JAPANESE ART (_continued_)--SCULPTURE--METAL WORK--PAINTING
Probably of all the Japanese arts there is none more interesting or
instructive than that of sculpture in wood and ivory. The sculpture of
Japan undoubtedly had its origin in the service of the Buddhist
religion. That religion, as I have attempted to show, has always
utilised art in the decoration of its temples and shrines as well as
in the perpetuation of the image of Buddha himself. At the beginning
of the seventeenth century an edict was promulgated directing that
every house should contain a representation of Buddha, and, as the
result of this, the sculpture trade received a considerable impetus.
Tobacco was introduced into the country in the same century, and the
smoking thereof soon came greatly into vogue among the Japanese
people. Tobacco necessitated a pouch or bag to contain the same, and
this in turn induced or produced the manufacture of something
wherewith to attach the bag to the girdle. Hence the evolution of the
netsuke, now as famous in Europe as in Japan. The carving of netsukes
developed into a very high art; indeed, there is perhaps no branch of
Japanese art which has aroused more enthusiasm among foreign
collectors and connoisseurs. Quite recently I attended a sale of
netsukes in London at which the bidding was both fast and furious,
while the prices realised were enormous. The netsuke, strictly
speaking, was the toggle attached by a cord to the tobacco pouch,
inro, or pipe of the Japanese man, with the object of preventing the
article slipping through the girdle or sash, but the word has been
more loosely employed by foreigners until, in popular parlance, it has
come to embrace all small carvings. Netsukes were nearly always
representations of the human figure, and various reasons have been
advanced to account for this fact. I need not consider those reasons
in these pages, as they, as well as the arguments by which they are
attempted to be supported, are almost entirely speculative. The
distinguishing characteristic of the true netsuke is two holes
admitting of a string being run through them. These holes were often
concealed behind the limbs of the figure. The material of which
netsukes were made varied, and consisted of ivory, wood horns,
fish-bones, and stones of various kinds. Those made of wood are
undoubtedly the most ancient, ivory being of comparatively recent
importation into Japan. Nevertheless, the netsukes made of ivory now
command the highest price. The names of many of the great
netsuke-makers are still famous, and much of their work is certainly
artistic and beautiful to a degree. I am afraid that in the collecting
of netsukes many European lovers of Japanese art have burnt their
fingers. The genuine old artistic productions are now extremely rare,
but a brisk trade has sprung up in reproductions which are skilfully
coloured to give them the appearance of age. The netsuke, I must
reiterate, was an almost indispensable adjunct to the costume of
every Japanese man, and it was, accordingly, made for use and not for
ornament alone. Of late years wood and ivory sculpture in Japan has
largely degenerated and deteriorated owing to the output of articles
not of utility, but made for the foreign market--"curios," in fact.
No one who has visited Japan can have failed of being impressed by
those gigantic statues of Buddha which have been erected in different
parts of the country. The largest and best known is the Dai Butsu, at
Kamakura, a few miles from Yokohama. The height of this great statue
is nearly 50 feet, in circumference it is 97 feet. The length of the
face is 8 feet 5 inches, the width of mouth 3 feet 2 inches, and it
has been asserted--though I do not guarantee the accuracy of the
calculation--that there are 830 curls upon the head, each curl 9
inches long. The statue is composed of layers of bronze brazed
together. It is hollow, and persons can ascend by a ladder into the
interior. The Dai Butsu at Nara is taller than the one at Kamakura. It
is dissimilar to most of the others in the country in having a black
face of a somewhat African type. This image is stated to have been
erected in the year 750 A.D., and the head has, I believe, been
replaced several times. In the Kamakura Dai Butsu both hands rest upon
the knees, while in the one at Nara the right arm is extended upward
with the palm of the hand placed to the front. The statue at Nara is
made of bronze which is stated to be composed of gold 500, mercury
1,950, tin 16,827, and copper 986,080 lbs., the total weight of the
statue being about 480 tons. Nearly all the Dai Butsus in the country
are of ancient workmanship. There is a modern one constructed of wood
erected in the year 1800 at Kyoto, 60 feet high. As a work of art it
has, however, no pretensions, which rest entirely upon its size.
Criticisms in regard to the artistic merits of these immense images
have been numerous and by no means unanimous. To my mind they are
superb specimens of the work of the old metallurgists of Japan, and
they are, moreover, deeply interesting as indicative of the ideas of
their designers in regard to the expression of placid repose of
Nirvana. Mr. Basil Chamberlain has appositely remarked in reference to
the great statue at Kamakura: "No other gives such an impression of
majesty or so truly symbolises the central idea of Buddhism, the
intellectual calm which comes of perfected knowledge and the
subjugation of all passion." And Lafcadio Hearn, that learned
authority on everything Japanese, who has brought into all his
writings a poetical feeling which breathes the very spirit of old
Japan, has observed in regard to the same statue: "The gentleness, the
dreamy passionlessness of those features--the immense repose of the
whole figure--are full of beauty and charm. And, contrary to all
expectations, the nearer you approach the giant Buddha the greater the
charm becomes. You look up into the solemnly beautiful face--into the
half-closed eyes, that seem to watch you through their eyelids of
bronze as gently as those of a child; and you feel that the image
typifies all that is tender and solemn in the soul of the East. Yet
you feel also that only Japanese thought could have created it. Its
beauty, its dignity, its perfect repose, reflect the higher life of
the race that imagined it, and, though inspired doubtless by some
Indian model, as the treatment of his hair and various symbolic marks
reveal, the art is Japanese.
"So mighty and beautiful is the work that you will for some time fail
to notice the magnificent lotus plants of bronze, fully 15 feet high,
planted before the figure on another side of the great tripod in which
incense rods are burning."
Kaemfer, writing in the seventeenth century, remarked of the Japanese:
"As to all sorts of handicraft, they are wanting neither proper
materials nor industry and application, and so far is it that they
should have any occasion to send for masters abroad, that they rather
exceed all other nations in ingenuity and neatness of workmanship,
particularly in brass, gold, silver, and copper." In metal work the
Japanese have certainly cultivated art to a high degree. Much of that
metal work was, of course, employed in connection with articles which
modern conditions of life in Japan have rendered absolutely or almost
entirely obsolete. The bronze workers of Japan were and indeed are
still famous. Their work as displayed in braziers, incense-holders,
flower-vases, lanterns, and various other articles evinces great
skill, while the effects often produced by the artists in the inlaying
and overlaying of metals with a view of producing a variegated picture
has long been the wonder and admiration of the Western world. It is
almost safe to assert that the finest specimens of work of this kind
can never be reproduced. In casting, too, there was no lack of skill
in old Japan. The big bell at Kyoto, which is 14 feet high by over 9
feet in diameter, is a sufficient object-lesson as to the proficiency
attained in casting in bygone days. Much of the bronze work of Japan,
especially in birds and insects, is to me incomparable. The modern
bronze work of the country, though certainly beautiful, does not in
any respect or any degree approach that of the masters of two or three
hundred years ago. In the manipulation of metals and amalgams these
men have reached a higher standard of perfection than had previously
or has since been attained. The bronze work of Japan is not, in my
opinion, as generally appreciated as it deserves to be. There is, I
think, nothing of the same kind in the world to be compared with it
when it was at its best. Like much of the other art of Japan modern
conditions are, as I have said, not conducive either to its progress
or development. Still, there is no lack of skill in this particular
branch of art in Japan at the present time, and I have seen some very
admirable, not to say magnificent, specimens of modern bronze work.
[Illustration: BRONZE INCENSE-BURNER AND SMALL FLOWER-VASE
EIGHTEENTH CENTURY]
Armour is now nearly as effete in Japan as in this country, and yet in
the decoration of armour the Japanese artist in metal was in the past
not only skilful but beautiful. Fine specimens of armour are now
extremely rare. That particular kind of work has, of course, gone
never to return. Next in importance to armour came the sword. Some of
us can remember when the two-sworded men of Japan were still
actualities, not, as they have now become, historical entities, the
terror of the foreign community there. The sword was an important and,
indeed, an essential weapon in the conditions of society that obtained
in old Japan, not only for self-defence but for offensive purposes,
either in respect of family feuds or individual quarrels, which were
almost invariably settled by the arbitrament of the sword. That weapon
was also used for those suicides known as hara-kiri, the outcome of
wounded honour or self-respect, which were such prominent features in
the Japanese life of the past. Some Western writers have attempted to
poke a mild kind of fun at this proneness of the Japanese for the
"happy despatch" on what seemed to the writers very flimsy or trivial
grounds. To me, on the contrary, the practice of hara-kiri,
indefensible as it may be in some respects, indicates the existence of
a high code of honour, the slightest infringement of which rendered
life intolerable. The sword then had innumerable functions, and, like
almost every article of utility in Japan, it became the subject of
elaborate ornamentation. The blade itself was brought to a high state
of perfection, and as regards the tempering of the steel has been the
admiration of cutlers in every part of the globe. Indeed the
sword-makers of Japan are famous from the tenth century downwards.
Many of the sword-blades had mottoes inscribed on them, and most had
designs ornate and often elaborate. The accessories of the blade and
the ornamentation thereof lent full scope for that artistic adornment
which has for ages past, as I have more than once remarked, been
characteristic of almost every article used in Japan. The wearing of
the sword was confined to persons of a certain rank, and different
classes wore different kinds of swords. About the sixteenth century
the custom of wearing two swords, one large, the other about the size
of a dirk, came into fashion. The two-handed sword was essentially a
war sword. The colour of the scabbard was almost invariably black with
a tinge of red or green, and it was in most instances beautifully
lacquered. The possessor of a sword gave full vent to his tastes in
regard to the size and decoration of his weapon. According to Griffis:
"Daimios often spent extravagant sums upon a single sword and small
fortunes upon a collection. A Samurai, however poor, would have a
blade of sure temper and rich mountings, deeming it honourable to
suffer for food that he might have a worthy emblem of his rank." On
January 1, 1877, the wearing of swords was abolished by an Imperial
decree, and foreigners visiting or resident in Japan in that and the
following years were able to pick up magnificent swords for a few
dollars each.
I have not space to describe in detail the many accessories which went
to form the complete sword for the strong man armed in old Japan, or
the elaborate and artistic ornamentation of every detail. In many of
the small pieces of metal work which adorned the swords gold, silver,
platina, copper, iron, steel, zinc, besides numerous alloys were used.
The abolition of sword-wearing gave a death-blow to the industry in
connection with the making of swords except in so far as it has been
continued for the purpose of turning them out for the European market.
But during the many centuries the art of metal work, as exemplified in
sword manufacture and the ornamentation of the sword and the various
accessories of it, existed in Japan it reached a magnificent height of
perfection. Dealing only with one period of it a French writer has
remarked: "What a galaxy of masters illuminated the close of the
eighteenth century! What a multitude of names and works would have to
be cited in any attempt to write a monograph upon sword furniture! The
humblest artisan, in this universal outburst of art, is superior in
his mastery of metal to any one we could name in Europe. How many
artists worthy of a place in the rank are only known to us by a single
piece, but which is quite sufficient to evidence their power! From
1790 to 1840 art was at fever heat, the creative faculty produced
marvels."
Besides the making and ornamentation of swords the metal workers in
Japan attained great skill in the design and finish of many other
articles which were in constant use by the people--pipes, cases to
hold the Indian ink which formed the writing material, the clasps and
buttons of tobacco pouches, besides vases, &c. In reference to the
making of alloys these metal workers showed considerable ingenuity,
the alloys used, amalgams of gold, silver, copper, and other metals in
deft proportions, resulting in magnificent effects as regards
ornamentation and permanency. Japan has undoubtedly been greatly aided
in the height to which the art of the country of various kinds has
attained by the plentifulness of minerals therein. Gold, silver,
copper, iron, lead, tin, and many other minerals exist. Strange to
say, gold at one time was considered no more valuable than silver--a
fact which may account for the lavish manner in which it was used for
decorative purposes in art of all descriptions.
I fear that an inevitable result of Western influences and the great,
indeed drastic, changes which have been effected thereby in the ideas,
manners, and customs of the Japanese people has been the decay, if not
the destruction, of the art connected with metal work. Sword
manufacture and everything relating thereto is, of course, gone; other
metal industries are following suit. The result, as I have said, was
inevitable, but it is none the less deplorable. Although it requires
an expert to deal with and describe in all its infinite detail the
metal work of Japan, it does not need an expert's knowledge to
profoundly admire it and be lost in admiration at the skill displayed
and the pains taken in respect of every part of it. The workers in
this, as indeed in all the other art industries of Japan in the past,
were quite evidently not men in a hurry or much exercised concerning
their output, and scamping their work in order to establish a record.
Their hearts must have been in everything they undertook, and their
sole aim, whatever they did, to put into their work all their skill
and knowledge and love of the beautiful. They, in fact, worked not for
pelf but for sheer love of art, and so long as the work of these
artists of various kinds endures the world will assuredly never cease
to admire it.
Painting has, in Japan, long been greatly cultivated, and in some
respects highly developed. There are various recognised schools of
painting, but I shall not weary my readers with any attempt,
necessarily imperfect as it would be, to describe them in detail.
China and the Buddhist religion have profoundly influenced painting as
the other arts of Japan. Indeed, the early painters of Japan devoted
themselves almost entirely to religious subjects. Most of their work
was executed on the walls, ceilings, and sliding screens of the
Buddhist temples, but some of it still exists in kakemonos, or wall
pictures, and makimonos, or scroll pictures. In the ninth century
painting, as well as the arts of architecture and carving, flourished
exceedingly. Kyoto appears to have been the great artistic centre. The
construction of temples throughout the country proceeded apace, and it
is related that no less than 13,000 images were carved and painted
during the reign of one emperor. Kyoto was, in fact, the centre of
religious art. We are told that the entire city was in a constant
artistic ferment, that whole streets were converted into studios and
workshops, and that the population of idols and images was as numerous
as the human habitation. Nearly all the temples then constructed and
adorned have vanished, but that at Shiba still remains to convey to us
some idea of the artistic glories of this period of intense religious
belief, which gave expression to its fervour and its faith in
architecture, carving, and painting. About the thirteenth century
flower and still-life painting came into vogue. Almost simultaneously
religious fervour, as expressed in art, began to grow cold. The artist
became the hanger-on of the Daimio, who was too often employed in
burning temples and destroying their artistic treasures. The painter
then painted as his fancy led him, and if he treated of religious
subjects did not invariably do so in a reverential spirit. From time
to time new schools of painting arose, culminating, in the eighteenth
century, in the Shijo school, which made a feature of painting
animals, birds, fishes, flowers, &c., from nature, instead of adhering
to the conventional style which had previously prevailed. The
colouring of some of the work of this school is superb and is greatly
in request among art collectors.
Of late years painting in Japan seems, to some extent, to have come
under Western influences. There is, indeed, a progressive party in
painting which not only does not resist these Western influences but
actually advocates the utilisation of Western materials and methods in
painting and the discarding of all that had made Japanese painting
essentially what it is. I confess to a hope that this progressive
school will not make quite so much progress as its disciples desire.
To introduce European pigments, canvas, brushes, &c., and discard the
materials formerly in use, to get rid of the Japanese method of
treating subjects, whether landscapes, country scenes, the life of the
people, representations of animals, and so on, and replace that method
by imitations of European schools of painting, must simply involve the
destruction of all that is essentially and characteristically Japanese
and the replacing of it by something that is not Japanese or indeed
Oriental. The essence of art is originality. I admit that art may come
under foreign influences and be improved, just as it may be degraded,
by them. If the influences of foreign art are to be advantageous that
art must, I suggest, be in some measure akin to the style of the art
which is affected by it. For example, the influence in the past of
China or Korea upon an analogous style of art in Japan. But for
Japanese painters to remodel their peculiar style upon that of Europe
must prove as fatal to Japanese painting as an art as any similar
endeavour of European painters to remodel their style upon that of
Japan would be fatal to the distinctive art of Europe. I make this
statement with full knowledge of the fact that some art critics in
this country declare that Mr. Whistler and other artists have been
largely affected or influenced in their style by a study of Japanese
art in painting and its methods.
I have referred to kakemonos, those wall pictures which are such a
pleasing feature of the simple decoration of Japanese houses. Many of
these are superb specimens of art, and the same remark may be made in
reference to the makimonos, or scroll pictures. It may be that not
every Western eye can appreciate these Japanese paintings fully at a
first glance, but they certainly grow upon one, and I hope the time is
far distant when kakemonos will be replaced in Japanese homes by those
mural decorations, if I may so term them, to be seen in so many
English houses, which are a positive eyesore to any person with even
the faintest conception of art. The work of the old painters of Japan,
as it appears on kakemonos and makimonos, is now rare. Much of it, as
is the case with the other art treasures of the country, has gone
abroad. I am, however, of opinion that painting has not deteriorated
to anything like the same extent as some of the other Japanese arts.
The subjects depicted by the artists have during the centuries from
time to time changed, but the technique has altered but little. It
does not, I know, appeal to everybody, but it is the kind of art, I
reiterate, that grows upon one. No person who has interested himself
in painting in modern Japan, especially on kakemonos, can, I think,
have failed to be impressed by the exquisite and beautiful work which
the Japanese artists in colour to-day produce.
[Illustration: KAKEMONO ON PAPER
ATTRIBUTED TO MATAHEI]
[Illustration: KAKEMONO ON PAPER
ATTRIBUTED TO SHIMMAN, UKIYO SCHOOL. EIGHTEENTH CENTURY]
Silk and satin embroidery as an industry and an art at one time
attained considerable importance in Japan, but of recent years has
greatly declined. The craze among the upper classes for European
dress has, of course, seriously affected the demand for elaborately
embroidered silk and satin garments, and is bound to affect it to an
even greater extent in the future as the custom of wearing European
garb spreads among the people. No one with any artistic
sensibilities can help regretting the fact that Japan is gradually
but surely discarding the distinctive costume of her people. That
costume was in every respect appropriate to their physique and
facial characteristics. The same certainly cannot be said of
European attire. However, it is now, I suppose, hopeless to arrest
the movement in this direction, and in a comparatively few years, no
doubt, the ancient and historic dress of the Japanese people will be
as obsolete as the silks, satins, ruffles, &c., of our forefathers.
And what remark shall I make of Japanese curios, the trade in which
has assumed such very large dimensions? Have they no claim, some of my
readers may ask, to be included in a chapter on art? There is no doubt
that many purchasers of them would be shocked were they to be told
that there was nothing artistic in many, if not most, of these
articles, that they were made simply and solely for the European
market, and that the manufacture of curios for this purpose was now
just as much a trade as is the making of screws in Birmingham. I am
quite prepared to admit that some of the articles included in the
generic term "curios," which can now be purchased in every large town
in Great Britain, are pretty and effective, but as regards many of
them there is certainly nothing artistic or indeed particularly or
peculiarly Japanese. This making of curios for the foreign market has,
as I have said, assumed considerable dimensions in Japan of recent
years, and in connection therewith the Japanese has certainly
assimilated many Western ideas in reference to pushing his wares. As
an example in point of this I will quote here an anecdote told me by a
friend who had a considerable knowledge of Japan in the 'seventies.
During one of his journeyings inland, when staying at a Japanese
tea-house, he was initiated into the use of Japanese tooth-powder,
which is in pretty general use among the lower classes. On leaving
Japan he purchased and brought to England a considerable quantity of
this tooth-powder, and on settling down in London he discovered a
Japanese shop where it was on sale. For some seventeen or eighteen
years he purchased the tooth-powder at the shop, sold in the little
boxes in which it was vended in Japan, not only using it himself but
introducing it to a large number of his acquaintances. One day last
year, on going into the shop referred to to make a further purchase,
he was informed that they were run out of tooth-powder and did not
quite know if they would have any more. My friend returned a month or
two later to the same shop on the same errand bent, and asked if they
had received a fresh supply. He was told that a further supply had
come to hand of very much the same description, but at double the
price. He purchased a box, the outside of which bore the following
inscription in English: "Japanese Sanitary Dentifrice; Superior
Quality. Apply the powder to the teeth by means of a brush, using
moderate friction over the whole surface." On opening the box my
friend found the powder was perfumed--perfumed for the European
market! Now tooth-powder is, of course, not a curio, nor is the
expression "moderate friction over the whole surface," I may remark,
characteristically Japanese. The little anecdote is, I think, typical
of the change that has come over and is still actively in progress in
Japan--a change which, however inevitable, and beneficial though in
many respects I believe it to be, is most assuredly not beneficial to
the interests of art of any kind.
The fact of the matter is that the hurry-scurry of modern civilisation
is not conducive to artistic work of any description. The man in a
hurry is unlikely to accomplish anything of permanent value. Working
against time is utterly subversive of the realisation of artistic
ideals. The past, whether in the West or the East, when railways,
telegraphs, telephones, newspapers, and all the adjuncts of modern
progress were unknown, was the period when men did good and enduring
work. They could then concentrate their minds upon their art free from
those hundred-and-one discomposing and disconcerting influences which
are the concomitants of modern civilisation. The true artist thinks
only of his art; for him it is not merely a predominant, but his sole
interest. He brings to it all his mind, his ideas and ideals, his
energy, enthusiasm, pertinacity; in it is concentrated all his
ambition. Extraneous matters can only distract his mind from his art,
and accordingly are to be abjured. I fear this exclusiveness, this
aloofness, is rare nowadays in the West; it is perhaps less rare in
the East, but it is becoming rarer there as Western influences,
Western ideas, and Western modes of life and method of regarding life
make progress. The poet, the painter, the sculptor, the novelist, the
dramatist, if their work is to be other than ephemeral, need an
atmosphere of repose and quietude wherein the mind can work and
fashion those ideas which are to be given material expression free
from all distracting and disturbing influences. Where can the aspiring
artist, under modern conditions of life, find such a haven of rest?
And even if he find it I fear he too often has no desire to cast
anchor there. The distractions of life are frequently alluring, and
the embryonic artists of to-day assure us that they must, in modern
jargon, keep "in touch" with modern thought with a view of, in modern
slang, being "up-to-date." Ideas such as these--and they seem to me to
be not only largely prevalent but almost universal--are in my opinion
fatal, not only to the development but to the very existence of art.
We see in this country the effect upon every department thereof.
Poetry, painting, sculpture, literature, the drama, are by almost
general consent in a state of utter decadence. The great poet or
painter, the great artist in words, on canvas, in marble, or in
wood--where is he? Are there any signs or portents of his advent?
None. Modern conditions of life have killed the artist, and replaced
him by artistic mediocrities or mechanicians who labour not for love
but for lucre, and are more concerned about the amount of their output
than the quality thereof. And as of England and Europe so I fear is
it, and will it be to a greater extent, in the near future in Japan.
The artist in lacquer, porcelain, metal, painting, embroidery, cannot
exist under the conditions of modern progress. He may still produce
good and beautiful work, but it will be no longer artistic in the
higher sense of that word, just because those ideas and ideals which
make the artist and connote art cannot exist in their fulness and
purity amidst the hurry and bustle and turmoil and desire for wealth
which are the essential characteristics of the civilisation of Europe
and America to-day--a civilisation which Japan has imported, and to a
large degree assimilated, and which she must accept with its defects
as well as its advantages. We may, and must, regret the effect of this
civilisation upon the art of old Japan, but there is no good shutting
one's eyes to obvious facts or affecting to believe that in due course
we shall witness a renaissance in Japan, a new birth of all that is
great and grand and magnificent in her past history.
There has for some years been a movement to prevent, as far as
possible, the passing out of Japan of its art treasures. The
Government has diligently catalogued all that remain in the temples
and public buildings to obviate their being sold, and museums have
been built for the purpose of collecting and exhibiting all that is
best and representative of Japanese art There has also been a movement
among the noblemen and the upper classes in the direction of forming
private collections. It was time that steps such as these should be
taken. It is a thousand pities they were not taken earlier. The drain
of Japan's art treasures went on unchecked year after year, and it is
probable that the private and public collections of Europe and America
contain more Japanese art treasures than are now to be found in Japan
itself. I am aware that in these collections are also to be found no
little of the spurious, and many articles with no claim to be
considered artistic in any sense of the word, but at the same time
there is no doubt that, as I have said, for years, there was a
constant export of artistic wealth from Japan. The Revolution of 1868,
with its consequent cataclysms, caused the treasures of many of the
great families to come on the market, with the result that they were
bought up at prices often greatly below their intrinsic value and
shipped from the country. They are of course gone for ever, and the
only thing that now remains to Japan is to prevent as far as possible
any of the treasures which she possesses meeting with a similar fate.
I know perfectly well that art, like music, knows nothing of
nationality, and that there is no reason why the resident of London or
New York should not enjoy the beauties of Japanese art, and feast his
eyes on the work of some great Japanese artist of three or four
hundred years back just as much as the citizen of Tokio. This is in
one sense true, but at the same time one cannot help sympathising with
the patriotic desire of a people to retain in their midst specimens of
the artistic conceptions and the artistic work of those famous men who
are now ashes, but whose work remains as a symbol and an incentive to
their countrymen to maintain a high standard, and to practise art
simply and solely for the love of it.