Euterpe; or, The future of art
TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW
A Full List of the Series will be found at the end of this Volume
EUTERPE OR THE FUTURE OF ART
BY LIONEL R. McCOLVIN Author of The Theory of Book-Selection , Music in Public Libraries , etc.
London: KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO., Ltd. New York: E. P. Dutton & Co.
Made and Printed in Great Britain by M. F. Robinson & Co., Ltd., at The Library Press, Lowestoft
EUTERPE
At the outset it will be desirable to state that when I speak of the future of art I do not mean the “art of the future”. Art can be considered from either an inside or an outside point of view; that is to say, we can deal either with its nature, problems, and performances—art itself, or with the amount and quality of the interest taken in art by men and women—the “art-life” of the community. The latter subject is that dealt with here.
The “art-life” of the civilized world is at present in a transition period, which is fraught with distinct, though maybe unrealized, dangers. Its problems are only indirectly related to the present and the future state of art-production: whether we foresee development or retrogression in modern tendencies in literature, painting, music, and so on, these dangers will need to be faced, or they will, at least, minimize the value of the creative work of to-morrow. For we are concerned not with the production of art but with the enjoyment and appreciation of art. As the latter is the more important, since without it production would be sterile, it is an essential preliminary that the conditions necessary for the healthy growth of a more widespread, deeper-rooted love of the beautiful should exist. We are now viewing the situation as sociologists, as men, rather than as artists. The artist can be satisfied when he attains a certain level of performance: at least he can work with content and happiness while he is seeking to reach a may-be unattainable perfection. He is, naturally and rightly, concerned with absolute values; and the critic and the individual lover can maintain the same attitude. If a painting or a poem reaches perfection, he asks no more. But the sociologist must take a different attitude. To the artist and the critic the work is the end; to the sociologist it is the beginning. It is not enough for him to know that the painting is great, since to him it is only the means by which men attain artistic enjoyment; it has no significance until it has acted upon the minds of men. That being so he must ask other questions about it—firstly, How many men can see it? How many are able to appreciate its value intelligently, gaining the full aesthetic, spiritual, or intellectual stimulus from it?—in short, What is the aggregate of its human significance?