Of all the foreign nations represented, with the exception of Japan and
China, none possesses so distinct a national character as the art of
Sweden. I cannot help expressing my personal conviction that it is the
best national section in the whole exhibition, showing, as it does, not
merely easel painting, but also many splendid examples of so-called
applied art, which often permits one to get a deeper insight into the
standard of art of a people than easel painting alone. It is true that
certain examples of painting in the French or American sections are more
appealing to us, but in the light of the national characteristics of the
people and the country, Swedish art has a very definite quality,
consistently shown. Their work has a robustness which has nothing to do
with the salon aspect of the art of southern Europe, particularly
France. In fact it is almost opposed to the art of the Romanic races,
and distinctly apart from the art of Germany. It is fortunate Sweden
could make such a splendid showing without the support of the art of
such a man as Anders Zorn, who, while decidedly Swedish, is after all
much of a cosmopolitan painter, with all the earmarks of an
international training. The art of the most artistic of all people, that
of the French, is often said to have a decadent note. In comparison,
Swedish art may be said to be absolutely robust, healthy, and vigorous,
without being coarse. To those who pretend to find a certain physical
brutality in Swedish art, I should like to point out that the most
delicate pictures in the entire exhibition - those of John Bauer - are
the chief asset of the Swedish exhibit. The great variety of the work in
this section makes it very interesting, and permits, as said before,
close insight into many phases of modern art.
The most pronounced individualities in the collection, covering all
fields, are Bruno Liljefors, Gustav Fjaestad, Carl Larsson, John Bauer,
Mr. and Mrs. Boberg, David Edström, Mas-Olle, and others too numerous to
mention. Bruno Liljefors for many years has been known internationally
as one of the best of animal painters, and particularly of sea fowl. He
has had the experience common to many great artists, of working himself
up from very academic beginnings to a wonderful personality of marked
freedom. His canvas of the nine wild swans is perhaps the biggest single
picture in the entire Exposition. It is immediately suggestive of a
decoration, and to think of it in that sense, as a part of a wall seen
from a great distance, makes one almost tremble with expectation. This
truly great picture is a rhythmic masterpiece. The placing of these
graceful swans is marvelously well studied from the point of view of
design, yet none the less does an expression of reality animate these
divine birds. There is something about swans which puts them even above
the king of birds, the eagle. I can conceive of men killing any animal,
but the thought of one of these noble birds falling victim to man's
perverse desires is incomprehensible to me. Of the other pictures by the
same artist, the flock of wild geese, standing in the shallow water of a
stony beach, carries all the conviction of being well studied which
applies to any of Liljefors' pictures. The eagles and the seagulls are
scarcely as interesting as the swans. Liljefors is never better than
when he depicts flying birds - and fly they do. There is never any doubt
about it. Those swans are actually in the air, and moving. A certain
disagreeable fuzziness in the skies of all of his pictures interferes
somewhat with their full enjoyment.
Of the other painters Mrs. Boberg should be mentioned next. She is the
wife of Ferdinand Boberg, the architect of the Swedish Building, who
himself, as a true artist excelling in a number of things, has a
splendid collection of etchings in the long black and white gallery
adjoining the Liljefors' room. Mrs. Anna Boberg's pictures, in a very
small gallery at the eastern end of this section, are not advantageously
hung. Her work is so decorative, and so painted for distant effect, that
to see it close at hand is disappointing. The eleven of her pictures are
unusual in subject and for that reason win less sympathy than they
deserve. All of them were painted on a trip she made with her husband to
the Lofoden islands, and when one considers the proverbial coldness of
the Arctic seas, her interpretations seem marvelous in their beauty and
richness of colour. A study of their titles in the catalogue seems
hardly necessary for understanding of their meaning, and I for one am
perfectly satisfied to feast on the gorgeous colouring and the great
veracity they possess. Some of them are already sold, a most surprising
thing when one considers that to most people a picture actually executed
in three dimensions is seldom considered meritorious. I do think that
while the physical width and height of Mrs. Boberg's pictures are
governed by conventional considerations, a little less depth of paint
might accomplish the same solid appearance without making one feel like
slipping sideways past them into the next gallery for fear of knocking
off a few lumps of paint.
In the adjoining gallery, a somewhat larger one on the east, Gustav
Fjaestad's very fine decorations form what we are in the habit of
calling a "one-man show." Mr. Fjaestad certainly has the decorative
feeling, whether he paints a picture or designs a rug. In fact all of
his pictures look like designs for rugs. And why not? If a wall rug is a
decoration, a picture should be one in just the same way. It is hard to
single out among the many good examples the best one, and it may be left
to the taste of the individual, who among nothing but good things cannot
make a poor choice. The time will come again when our artists will find
it honourable and profitable to apply their talents to utilitarian art,
as does Fjaestad, and the interrelated activities of the Swedish in both
fine and applied arts afford a lesson which is by no means new. It is
the basic condition on which the art of the Renaissance flourished that
develops men like the Swedes.
There is a big difference between Liljefors and Mrs. Boberg, or again
between her and Fjaestad, but not any greater than between all of these
artists and John Bauer. John Bauer's paintings are exquisite, and even
such abused adjectives as "sweet" and "delicate" are not out of place
when applied to his work. I hope we have some enlightened person among
us who can afford to buy the whole batch of them, and do it quickly,
before any more of them are sold singly. It takes more time to enjoy
these little fairy tales than one can afford to give to them. They
possess everything a good illustrative painting ought to have. A wealth
of ideas imaginatively represented, good drawing, and intimate feeling
tell of the keen pleasure the artist must have had in producing these
gems.
As an illustrator, though very different, Carl Larsson appeals in a
comprehensive group of pictures in another gallery. Carl Larsson's
extraordinary resourcefulness in getting everything he needs out of the
confines of his home has for years been the cause of his great
popularity abroad, and in his thirty-three cheerful drawings he
discloses his entire home life, in all the variety of happenings which
makes married existence a success. His drawing is faultless, his sense
of colour supple and refreshing, and his ability to make such extensive
use of the relatively narrow atmosphere of his home without exhausting
it proves his caliber. Larsson has a roommate of great distinction and
modesty in Oscar Bergman, who has contributed some twenty tender bits of
northern landscapes and marines. They are reminiscent of the Japanese,
although it becomes almost foolish to think of the Japanese every time
someone develops a capacity for acute observation and drawing. Bergman's
little lighthouse is particularly convincing and, like most of these
things, should not be allowed to return to the artist.
I shall probably have to retrench in attention to the American section
if I keep on giving pages to this section. But in spite of their great
merit, the work of Kallstenius, Schultzberg, Carlberg, and Osslund will
have to go with only meager reference. Osslund's pictures are somewhat
startling at first, owing to a complexity of technical treatment. He
does not seem to be working in the right medium, for I believe his
Japanesque landscapes could be far more sympathetically presented in
watercolour. Of the group comprising his work, his "Waterfall", "Summer
Evening", and "Evening on Angermann Land" are very fascinating.
Mas-Olle's portraits are interesting not only for good technical
painting but also for fine characterization. His portrait of an old
peasant of Dalecarlia is almost faultless. Near the Mas-Olle portrait
Herman Lindquist has a "Sunny April Day" of unusual poetic claim.
Schultzberg's big sunlit winter scenes hardly need recommendation to
justify their increasing popularity. Alfred Bergstrom's poetic
landscapes add more interest, in the small adjoining room on the east.
Marine pictures by Hullgren are the only contributions in that field,
but quite sufficient to maintain the general standard of excellence. The
drunken man seated at a café table is psychologically interesting. As an
object lesson to discourage the consumption of liquor it is the most
effective picture I have ever seen, and certain interests would do well
to buy it for that reason alone, not to speak of the relief this would
afford. Ernst Küsel's animal pictures, opposite John Bauer's delightful
group, seem quite out of place. His ducks and the goats are satisfactory
enough, but I wish he had to live with that calf picture and see it
every day. Küsel is undoubtedly humourously inclined, without knowing
proper limitations.
The sculpture of the Swedes is of the same unusual excellence that
commands so much respect in their other work. Edstrom easily outranks
his fellow-artists in his group of naturalistic and conventional
architectural heads, in the Liljefors gallery, while in the long and
narrow adjoining gallery a multitude of excellent etchings, drawings,
and black and white work compel mention. They hardly need any
explanation, since in their very character they readily convey their
meaning. One could dwell at greater length upon this most representative
of all national displays, but I fear that it would have to be done at
the expense of the American section, which hospitality has already
placed under a disadvantage.