The City of Domes [42]
their children, going home as fast as they could, fighting the wind, their picturesque draperies flying around them.
The architect was impressed. "He's caught the feeling of the thunderstorm, hasn't he?" he said.
"And he's brought out all the picturesqueness and the color and the majesty and even the humor," said the painter. "See how wonderfully be has composed the picture, what pictorial use he has made of every detail. The background of the clouds and the rain, the dark blues and the green and the pink; and the kites catching some of the color, and the lovely color of the mill and of the grass dried by the sun. And see that figure up there on the steps, all windblown and rushing under cover. It's all beautiful and yet there's not one face or figure there that would be considered beautiful by the painter who works for prettiness. He has no interest whatever in what the average mural decorator considers beautiful. And yet he sees beauty everywhere and he makes it felt. How pictorially he has used those purple flowers in the foreground at the base of the composition. And observe their relation to the purple clouds on top. And then what character he has put into those active figures, particularly in this queer little boy, naked except for the purple drapery flying from his waist. He has caught something of the fantastic spirit that you often see in children."
In nearing the two panels illustrating Water we had a chance to see how dexterously Brangwyn could manage his design without perspective, which would have made a hole in the wall. Those women with jars on their heads stood against a sky none the less lovely because it was flat. It was exquisite in its varieties of blue and white and green. That sturdy fellow lifting a heavy jar was actually working and working hard. "And how splendidly Brangwyn has modeled the figure with his back turned to us," the painter exclaimed. "What a stroke of genius it was that a yellow handkerchief of just that shade should hang from his neck. And the figures in the companion panel drawing their nets, they are putting their heart and soul into their work and they are having a good time, too. And this man here in the corner, with the purple shadows on his bare back, lifting his net, he's evidently had a big catch. He's holding the net in a way that shows it's heavy. And how decorative those men in the background are, with the baskets on their heads. Brangwyn loves to use figures in this attitude. They are interesting and picturesque and dramatic at the same time."
"But they're too conscious," the architect insisted, "too posed.
"Remember, they're not paintings," the painter insisted. "They're formal decorations."
In the panel representing the elementary use of Fire we were all struck by Brangwyn's daring and fine treatment of the ugly. Nearly every face was almost grotesque. And yet every face was appealing for the simple reason that it expressed attractive human qualities. Two, a man and a woman, had noses ridiculously large. The group of men in the center of the background, at the base, around the fire, had apparently started the fire by rubbing sticks together. One was intently leaning forward, as if in the act of blowing. Among the figures behind the group stood a man with an infant in his arms, vividly characterized by the unseeing eyes.
That infant was instantly singled out by the painter.
"Brangwyn is very wonderful in his observation of children. He has a quality that is almost maternal. Observe the difference between the expression in the face of that baby and the expression in the face of that little boy to the left of the fire-makers. How intently he is looking on as he leans against the brown jar. He shows all the interest of a boy just learning how to do things."
The kiln charmed us, too, though we regretted that it did not explain itself quite so spontaneously as most of the other panels. "But symbolism ought not to be too obvious, you know," the painter argued. "There's a certain charm in vagueness. It makes you feel your way toward a work- of art.
The architect was impressed. "He's caught the feeling of the thunderstorm, hasn't he?" he said.
"And he's brought out all the picturesqueness and the color and the majesty and even the humor," said the painter. "See how wonderfully be has composed the picture, what pictorial use he has made of every detail. The background of the clouds and the rain, the dark blues and the green and the pink; and the kites catching some of the color, and the lovely color of the mill and of the grass dried by the sun. And see that figure up there on the steps, all windblown and rushing under cover. It's all beautiful and yet there's not one face or figure there that would be considered beautiful by the painter who works for prettiness. He has no interest whatever in what the average mural decorator considers beautiful. And yet he sees beauty everywhere and he makes it felt. How pictorially he has used those purple flowers in the foreground at the base of the composition. And observe their relation to the purple clouds on top. And then what character he has put into those active figures, particularly in this queer little boy, naked except for the purple drapery flying from his waist. He has caught something of the fantastic spirit that you often see in children."
In nearing the two panels illustrating Water we had a chance to see how dexterously Brangwyn could manage his design without perspective, which would have made a hole in the wall. Those women with jars on their heads stood against a sky none the less lovely because it was flat. It was exquisite in its varieties of blue and white and green. That sturdy fellow lifting a heavy jar was actually working and working hard. "And how splendidly Brangwyn has modeled the figure with his back turned to us," the painter exclaimed. "What a stroke of genius it was that a yellow handkerchief of just that shade should hang from his neck. And the figures in the companion panel drawing their nets, they are putting their heart and soul into their work and they are having a good time, too. And this man here in the corner, with the purple shadows on his bare back, lifting his net, he's evidently had a big catch. He's holding the net in a way that shows it's heavy. And how decorative those men in the background are, with the baskets on their heads. Brangwyn loves to use figures in this attitude. They are interesting and picturesque and dramatic at the same time."
"But they're too conscious," the architect insisted, "too posed.
"Remember, they're not paintings," the painter insisted. "They're formal decorations."
In the panel representing the elementary use of Fire we were all struck by Brangwyn's daring and fine treatment of the ugly. Nearly every face was almost grotesque. And yet every face was appealing for the simple reason that it expressed attractive human qualities. Two, a man and a woman, had noses ridiculously large. The group of men in the center of the background, at the base, around the fire, had apparently started the fire by rubbing sticks together. One was intently leaning forward, as if in the act of blowing. Among the figures behind the group stood a man with an infant in his arms, vividly characterized by the unseeing eyes.
That infant was instantly singled out by the painter.
"Brangwyn is very wonderful in his observation of children. He has a quality that is almost maternal. Observe the difference between the expression in the face of that baby and the expression in the face of that little boy to the left of the fire-makers. How intently he is looking on as he leans against the brown jar. He shows all the interest of a boy just learning how to do things."
The kiln charmed us, too, though we regretted that it did not explain itself quite so spontaneously as most of the other panels. "But symbolism ought not to be too obvious, you know," the painter argued. "There's a certain charm in vagueness. It makes you feel your way toward a work- of art.