- * a ~ .4 ~ a *~ , "Pt F - w w" r ! Aft to * t 0 DELACROIX: 'Beauty Through Boldness' (Continued from preceding page) ing can be. It also presents an accessible illustration of what he believed drawing should be. LIKE HIS BELOVED Rubens. Delacroix employed a free play of lines, lines whose purpose was not so much to separ- ate one object from another as to present the life and effect of the subject. The artist saw no power in a single line; his are rough strokes not elegant in them- selves (as was the pure, ornamental line of Botticelli, or Gothic line) but which suggest and which model plastically. "Straight lines are monsters," Delacroix exclaimed: they are not found in nature. I think it is partly because of the multi- plicity of his curved lines that nothing of his ever looks rooted or permanent; even his "seated Arabs" (of which there is an example, an etching, on display in our Museum) seem to surge up; drapery lines swirl even when the robed figure isn't moving. And although the lines curve and boldly reach out, they always have a definite place to go and each achieves a definite effect. Delacroix's doctrine was to draw con- tours after having blocked in masses: "Grasp things by their centers." He found that the classic artists had used this pro- cedure, which was at an opposite pole from the neo-classicists who instead de- veloped, like the Renaissance artists, single accented contour lines (Delacroix: "The contour, accented uniformly, be- THE WORLD OF The Young Negro Novelist's Highly Personal Message Transcends Social Criticism JAMES BALDWIN Etudes pour les Massacres de Scio (1824) yond proportion, destroys placticity."). No wonder that it was said that "when Delacroix paints, it is like a lion devour- ing his prey!" Van Gogh, another pas- sionate spirit, was to observe Delacroix's argument of mass versus outline, and Cezanne above all was to grasp volume and area through mass, as were other major painters from the Impressionists onward. (Delacroix's genius even inspired Cezanne to leave us with the idea for an Apotheosis of Delacroix, with the full reti- nue of adoring painters including Pissaro, Vonet and Cezanne himself, and a barking dog representing the envious critics!). IN THE MUSEUM pen-and-wash draw- ing, reproduced here, the function of the heavier, brushed-on line especially around the main horse's hind-quarters and hind leg is not so much to articulate shape (as a contour line) but to empha- size support and the thrust of movement out from it. It is easy to see that this line was freely brushed on after the artist had grasped the horse by the "middle," penning in the short, massy strokes which articulate the body's volume and bring that animal into the foreground by direct- ing our attention to their small detail. The main object is the most plastic and pre- cise, while the others not in the center of interest are flattened accordingly. The wash, including the accent of heavy wash line, sets the main horse in an at- mosphere of light and dark into which the dimmer horses fade. These back- ground figures are vital, too, as are all the elements in any fine drawing. There is never the repose of a single, continu- ous contour line describing any horse; a quick, sure series of strokes serves for each. As so often happens with Delacroix, the artist himself describes the ideal he has here realized: "A first-class drawing, which has the charm of being complete without detail, expresses the idea to a high degree, not because details are sup- pressed, but by reason of their total sub- ordination to the main strokes, which will prove exceedingly moving." This drawing's multiple technique adds great- ly to its impact and to its richness. (On its reverse side is another fine pen-and-wash drawing, that of a seated woman in a landscape. It is interesting to notice how differently the artist treats a more tran- quil subject while using most of the same techniques as in the study of the horses.) HOW CAN an artist who himself always emphasized his independence be cate- gorized? Delacroix himself avoided an en- framement like Romantic or Classical; he wrote: "Truth in the arts depends sole- ly on the person writing, painting, etc ... it is consequently impossible to hand on the feeling for beauty an truth or their expression; to start a new school is no less than absurd." He studied nature fervently on his own, always seeking its dynamic heart because of a loving kinship with that heart and never with the vain aspiration of founding an artistic move- ment. His sketches and drawings, magni- ficent in themselves and always reflect- ing his smallest endeavors, must often have served him as his first delicate con- tact with that essence for which he tire- lessly probed. By MARILYN KORAL DON QUIXOTE once said that the times no longer afforded man opportunity to be heroic. He mourned that the art of sacrificing, of giving-for another human being' or a priceless ideal-was dead. But he subsequently acknowledged that it had never lived, really. James Baldwin has exploded on the American literary scene with a modern answer to Quixote: It is only by dar- ing to realize the human capacity for self-preoccupation and cruelty which Cervantes classically exposed that man may come to a firm establishment of his own identity. And only when this identity is ineradicable is it possible to transcend oneself. Baldwin views this transcendence as a victory for the human imagination. Particularly since publication of Anoth- er Country (1961), Baldwin's distinction is that he has cracked open the intellec- tual strait-jackets of notably provincial American critics. UNFORTUNATELY, they have been as baffled with him as they were with Ernest Hemingway in the '30's. This baf- flement can be traced to Baldwin's un- usual attempt to be essayist, novelist, and poet; he does not, however, feel compelled to preserve the rigidity of each media. His novels are in part sheer poetry, his essays are rich in undeveloped but pre- cious novel characters. What is clearly poetry in both his essays and fiction is heavy with social criticism usually con- fined to the form of persuasive but flat prose. Such fluidity in expression is a source of the greatest present misinterpretation of Baldwin: that his highest aim is to depict the American Negro at mid-twen- tieth century. He deals largely with Ne- gro problems. But what predicates even Baldwin essays such as "Nobody Knows My Name" is the subtle contention that Negro strife is a mere symbol of larger forces eating away at the foundations of American society. What makes Baldwin such a pure revolutionary is that he is not solely championing the Negro cause: he is championing ruthless and erosive upheaval in the most personal ways. BALDWIN'S INSIGHT into pragmatic concerns of the current Negro struggle is subjective. His attempts at contem- porary social comment in the essays are often distorted: "As far as the color problem is con- cerned, there is but one great difference between the Southern white and the Northerner: the southerner remembers historically and in his own psyche, a kind of Eden in which he loved black people and they loved him . . . None of this is true for the Northerner. Negroes repre- sent nothing to him personally, except, perhaps the dangers of carnality. He nev- er sees Negroes. Southerners see them all the time. Northerners never really think about them whereas Southerners are nev- er really thinking of anything else." -Nobody Knows My Name But despite the stories their ancestors may relate, how many young southerners today can remember genuinely loving Negroes? Although the image of carnality in place of humanity may be true in the North, it can hardly be said that south- erners "are never really thinking of any- thing else." Baldwin's essays are studded with such generalizations as, "A vast amount of the energy that .goes into what we call the Negro problem is produced by the white man's profound desire not to be judged by those who are not white . . . The real reason that non-violence is considered to be a virtue . . . in Negroes . . . is that white men do not want their lives, their self-image, or their property threatened . .. White Americans do not believe in death, and this is why the darkness of my skin so intimidates them." Critics have been countering statements such as the above three in ways similar to F. W. Dupree's recent tirade in the New York Times Review of Books: in the first statement, Baldwin obviously exaggerates the white man's conscious- ness of the Negro. Secondly, it is not a momentous conclusion that men do not want their property or lives threatened. Also, to impute in a pat way "real rea- sons" for the behavior of entire popula- tions is incredulous. Finally, one might consider the linking of black skin with death good Poe, but what does it have to do with the white man's real opinion of Negroes? YET IT IS PRECISELY Baldwin's lack of consistently sensible social com- ment which proves an artistic advantage. His experience as "Negro" and all the meanings therein is utterly singular; this permits him depth of emotional penetra- tion and an aesthetic triumph of deafen- ing magnitude: "And blood, in all the cities through which he passed, ran down. There seemed no door, anywhere, behind which blood did not call out, unceas- ingly for blood; no woman, whether singing before defiant trumpets or re- joicing before the Lord, who had not seen her father, her brother, her lover, or her soul cut down without mercy; who had not seen her sister become part of the white man's whorehouse, who had not, all too nar- rowly, escaped that house herself; no man, preaching, or cursing, strum- ming his guitar in the lone, blue evening, or blowing in fury and ec- stasy his golden horn at night, who had not been made to bend his head and drink white men's muddy water; no man whose manhood had not been, at the root, sickened, whose loins had not been dishonored, whose seed had not been scattered into oblivion and worse than oblivion, into living shame and rage, and into endless battle. Yes, their parts were all cut off, they were dishonored, their very names were nothing more than dust blown disdainfully across the field of time-to fall where, to blossom where, bringing forth what fruit hereafter, where?-their very names were not their own. Behind them was the darkness, nothing but the darkness, and all around them destruction, and before them nothing but the fire-a bastard people, far from God, singing and crying in the wilderness!" --Go Tell It On the Mountain This excerpt from Go Tell It On the Mountain illustrates Baldwin's reverence for one man's personal experience. He re- lates this experience, however, in a way which bears relevance to our society. He is predisposed to the belief that what each man knows and feels does make a differ- ence in an important larger context; thus the key to revealing history and the fu- ture's secrets lies in the conscious and subconscious lives of particular people. IN DELVING passionately into the mo- tives of real human beings, Baldwin ascribes a responsibility to, and a respect for the individual which is unusual among American fiction writers today. He Writes in Notes of a Native Son: "Human freedom is a complex, difficult- and private-thing. If we can liken life, for a moment, to a furnace, then freedom is the fire which burns away illusion ... the recovery of this standard demands of everyone who loves this country a hard look at himself, for the greatest achieve- ment must begin somewhere, and they always begin with the person." (Continued on following page) The dynamic 'Arab Rider Galloping' "That man who attached fundamental importance to color and its reflections - doesn't he merit, before Claude Monet the name, father of Im- pressionism? . . . Most of the researches of the Impressionists find in him a precursor. Delacroix said: 'The enemy of all painting is gray.' Let us note however an essential difference in this move- ment. While the art of Delacroix was always the expression of his thought, that of the Impression- ists contents itself with registering a purely visual sensation." --Maurice Serullaz Curator au Louvre L'Impressionisme The artist's self-portrait THE MICHIGAN 4 E