Art that endures is sincere. It is universal in its appeal though it may
have been produced in a remote corner of the world by one who was
unacquainted with the work of artists.
I remember going with a friend into a picture gallery in Chicago, where an
artist—I think his name was Bradford—was showing some sketches he had
brought back from the arctic regions. “How true these are” I exclaimed.
“How do you know?” said my companion, “you have never been to the North
Pole.” “That is not necessary” I rejoined. “These studies have the truth
written in every inch of them.” The work proclaimed the sincerity of its
maker.
He who reverently observes life and wrests from its verities those
elements which are in tune with his “ego”—transposes these into some
concrete form without the damning desire for self aggrandizement,
pretense, or mere seeking for originality—is building on good
foundations. It is from an over-weening desire for originality that most
of the affectations of so called “Modern Art” proceed.
Natural individuality—the sincere personal vision of the artist—is an
inherited asset. His work is the acquiring of a technique, the constant
patient practice and experiment in his particular craft. This unending
exercise gives the artist power to state his message clearly—in the
simplest way.
The graphic artist is concerned with “_pictorial_” ideas. These are
necessarily limited; they must be ideas possible of expression by light
and shade, by line, by form, by color. The artist’s vision includes his
point of view. He receives an impression and simultaneously determines
how he will express it. He has, as it were, analyzed his subject and
decided at once on the form of its presentation—in the clay, on the
canvas, in the drawing or photograph.
Given the most favorable mechanical contrivances which science places
today at the disposal of the painter or photographer, the latter may
proceed in his work under the same maxims, the same theories, that guide
the painter. His design may be as interesting, his key as aptly chosen,
his black and white (values) as colorful, his composition in the space as
distinguished.
If over and above his technical skill the photographer starts with a
“vital idea,” he may like the painter convey with his photograph “_the
moving thrill_” which is the final test of any work of art.
Then perchance, working patiently along the lines here barely indicated,
the artist may one day unconsciously achieve that coveted note of true
originality which marks a forward step to be hailed and recorded in the
great tradition.