The City of Domes [43]
The more you think about this panel the more you find there. To me it suggests the relation between fire and the abundance of the earth. See how cleverly, in each case of these two panels, Brangwyn has used smoke, first as a thin line, breaking into two lines as it goes up and interweaving, and then as a great flowing wreath, dividing the panel in two parts without weakening the unity."
For composition we decided that the two Earth panels were among the most remarkable of all. With satisfaction I heard Brangwyn compared by the painter to a great stage manager. "When I look at these groupings, I am reminded of Forbes-Robertson's productions of plays." Now we could see how brilliantly the decorator had planned in securing his effects of height by starting his group of figures close to the top of the canvas. And with what skill he had used trees and vines and vegetables and fruits, both for design and for coloring. "He has always been mad about apples and squashes," said that feminine voice. "In nearly every picture here you will find not one squash only, but several squashes. He loves them for their color and their shape. And how wonderful he makes the color of the grape. He suggests the miracle of its deep purple."
We admired the painter's pictorial use of shadow on those powerful and scantily draped figures and the animation he put into the bodies of the wine-pressers. And down there in a corner he had perfectly reproduced the attitude and facial expression of the worker at rest, holding out his cup for a drink. "There's another of those queer and interesting children. But oh, most wonderful of all is the opposite panel that ought to be called Abundance. See that mother, holding her lusty baby. The face is commonplace enough, but it has all motherhood in it. And the woman behind, she looks as if she might be a mother bereft or one of those women cheated out of motherhood."
The architect, though he still had his reservations on the subject of the Brangwyns, conceded that they were distinctly architectural. They blended into the spirit of the court.
The painter at once supported the opinion. "In these colonnades Guerin has done some of his finest coloring. The blue and the red are in absolute harmony with Brangwyn's rich tones. They must have been applied to fit the canvases. But the marvel is that the murals should show up so magnificently. Brangwyn painted them in London and he must have had second sight to divine just the right scheme. Do you realize," she went on enthusiastically, fairly losing herself in her enjoyment, "the immense difficulties he had to contend with? In the first place, see how huge those canvases are. Their size created all kinds of problems. To view them right, to get a line on the detail, so to speak, would have meant, for the average painter, walking long distances. But, in his studio, Brangwyn could not have taken anything like accurate measurements."
"Perhaps he painted them out of doors," the architect suggested.
"I believe the explanation is that he thought them all out and he saw them in their places. From Mr. Mullgardt he had probably received a complete account, with drawings, of just what the court was going to be like. Then it lived before him and he made the murals live. His work shows that he begins in the right place, unlike so many people who paint from outside. He feels the qualities of the people he is going to paint. He really loves them. He loves their surroundings. He must be very elemental in his nature. They say he is a great, uncouth sort of a fellow. When he first went to London he was very contemptuous of the work done by the academicians. It must have seemed to him, a good deal of it, effeminate and trifling. Can't you see how those murals show that he is a man clear through? They are masculine in every detail."
"And yet they have a good deal of delicacy, too, haven't they?" said the architect. "See how atmospheric those backgrounds are. They actually suggest nature."
"Because they are unconventional and because they are true. And yet they are purely
For composition we decided that the two Earth panels were among the most remarkable of all. With satisfaction I heard Brangwyn compared by the painter to a great stage manager. "When I look at these groupings, I am reminded of Forbes-Robertson's productions of plays." Now we could see how brilliantly the decorator had planned in securing his effects of height by starting his group of figures close to the top of the canvas. And with what skill he had used trees and vines and vegetables and fruits, both for design and for coloring. "He has always been mad about apples and squashes," said that feminine voice. "In nearly every picture here you will find not one squash only, but several squashes. He loves them for their color and their shape. And how wonderful he makes the color of the grape. He suggests the miracle of its deep purple."
We admired the painter's pictorial use of shadow on those powerful and scantily draped figures and the animation he put into the bodies of the wine-pressers. And down there in a corner he had perfectly reproduced the attitude and facial expression of the worker at rest, holding out his cup for a drink. "There's another of those queer and interesting children. But oh, most wonderful of all is the opposite panel that ought to be called Abundance. See that mother, holding her lusty baby. The face is commonplace enough, but it has all motherhood in it. And the woman behind, she looks as if she might be a mother bereft or one of those women cheated out of motherhood."
The architect, though he still had his reservations on the subject of the Brangwyns, conceded that they were distinctly architectural. They blended into the spirit of the court.
The painter at once supported the opinion. "In these colonnades Guerin has done some of his finest coloring. The blue and the red are in absolute harmony with Brangwyn's rich tones. They must have been applied to fit the canvases. But the marvel is that the murals should show up so magnificently. Brangwyn painted them in London and he must have had second sight to divine just the right scheme. Do you realize," she went on enthusiastically, fairly losing herself in her enjoyment, "the immense difficulties he had to contend with? In the first place, see how huge those canvases are. Their size created all kinds of problems. To view them right, to get a line on the detail, so to speak, would have meant, for the average painter, walking long distances. But, in his studio, Brangwyn could not have taken anything like accurate measurements."
"Perhaps he painted them out of doors," the architect suggested.
"I believe the explanation is that he thought them all out and he saw them in their places. From Mr. Mullgardt he had probably received a complete account, with drawings, of just what the court was going to be like. Then it lived before him and he made the murals live. His work shows that he begins in the right place, unlike so many people who paint from outside. He feels the qualities of the people he is going to paint. He really loves them. He loves their surroundings. He must be very elemental in his nature. They say he is a great, uncouth sort of a fellow. When he first went to London he was very contemptuous of the work done by the academicians. It must have seemed to him, a good deal of it, effeminate and trifling. Can't you see how those murals show that he is a man clear through? They are masculine in every detail."
"And yet they have a good deal of delicacy, too, haven't they?" said the architect. "See how atmospheric those backgrounds are. They actually suggest nature."
"Because they are unconventional and because they are true. And yet they are purely