Commenting upon one of Mr. Max Beerbohm's caricatures in the Spring Exhibition of the New English Art Club, 1909, the Times critic writes as follows—"Here an art-critic meets a number of Mr. John's strange females with long necks and bent, unlovely heads, like a child's copy of a Primitive; and the puzzled critic ejaculates, 'How odd it seems that thirty years hence I may be desperately in love with these ladies!' Odd, indeed, but perfectly possible," continues the Timesexpert. "Some of us have learned, in twenty years, to find nature in Claude Monet, and the time may come when the women in Mr. John's 'Going to the Sea,' or in the 'Family Group' at the Grafton, will seem as beautiful as the Venus de Milo. The 'return of Night primeval and of old chaos' may be nearer than we think." Then after paying Mr. John's drawing a compliment, the writer continues: "But can any one, for all that, whose mind is not warped by purely technical prepossession in favour of a technician, say that the picture would not have been enormously improved if the artist had thought more of nature and less of his 'types' If Mr. John would throw his types to the winds, look for a beautiful model, and paint her as she is, we should not have to wait the thirty years of Mr. Max Beerbohm's critic, but might begin to fall in love with her at once."[57]
And this, let me assure you, is a comparatively able criticism!
But, what guidance does it give? Why is it so timid and non-committing? And, where it is committing, why is it so vague? The words "beautiful model" mean absolutely nothing nowadays. How, then, can the critic employ them without defining the particular sense in which he wishes them to be understood?
I examined this picture of Mr. John's, as also the one at the Grafton. Both of them were full of his personal solution of the deepest problems associated with the ideas of Art and beauty; but how can we know whether to accept these solutions unless they are made quite plain by our critics? It may be suggested that Mr. John's solutions of these problems is not sufficiently important. Why, then, discuss them at all?
The Daily Telegraph also contained a so-called criticism of Mr. John. After commenting, as the previous critic did, upon Mr. Max Beerbohm's caricature and the words accompanying it, the writer proceeds: "How true—to give the most obvious of all instances—with respect to Wagner! And yet Mr. Max Beerbohm, the satirist, is as regards the actual moment, not quite, quite up to date. To-day, for fear of being accused of a Bœotian denseness, we hasten to acclaim, if not necessarily to enjoy, Cézanne, Maurice Denis, the neo-Impressionists, etc., etc."[58]
"For fear of being accused of Bœotian denseness!" Yes, that is the whole trouble! Apparently, then, if we are to believe the Daily Telegraph critic, Mr. John has been acclaimed, simply in order that his critics may escape the gibe of being classically dense!
Possessing neither the necessary knowledge, nor the necessary values, nor yet the necessary certainty, to take up a definite stand for or against, these critics "acclaim" novelty, in whatever garb it may come, lest, perchance, their intelligence be for one instant doubted. Very good!—at least this is a confession which reveals both their humility and their honesty, and, since it entirely supports my contention, I am entirely grateful for it.
But what ought to be said to the implied, ingenuous and perfectly unwarrantable assumption, that that which posterity endorses must of necessity have been right all along? Why should Wagner be vindicated simply because an age subsequent to his own happens to rave about him? Before such posthumous success can vindicate a man, surely the age in which it occurs must be duly valued. In the event of its being more lofty, more noble, and more tasteful than the age which preceded it, then certainly posthumous fame is a vindication; but if the case be otherwise, then it is a condemnation. In an ascending culture the classic of yesterday becomes the primitive of to-morrow, and in a declining culture the decadent of yesterday becomes the classic of to-morrow. Thus in valuing, say, Michelangelo, it all depends whence you come. If you come from Egypt and walk down towards him, your opinion will be very different from that of the man who comes from twentieth-century Europe and who walks up towards him.
But we are not ascending so rapidly or so materially—if we are ascending at all—as to make posthumous success a guarantee of excellence. In fact, precisely the converse might be true, and men who are now quickly forgotten, may be all the greater on that account alone. In any case, however, the matter is not so obvious as to allow us to make the broad generalizations we do concerning it.
Perhaps, in order to be quite fair, I ought now to refer to other critics, as well as to other criticisms concerning John written by the critics already quoted. True, in the Times for October 14th, 1905, there appears a more elaborate discussion of Mr. John's powers. (I say more elaborate, but I mean more lengthy!) And the Daily Telegraph has also given us more careful views, as, for instance, in their issues of October 17th, 1905, and November 23rd, 1909. I doubt, however, whether it could be honestly said that one really understands any better how to place Mr. John after having read the articles in question, though, in making this objection, I should like it to be understood, that I regard it as applying not only to the art-criticism of the two particular papers to which I have referred, but to art-criticism in general.[59]