Judge — April 26, 1924 — page 24: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

HOW TO TELL THE PICTURES FROM THE CLAM CHOWDER NcE when I was on a newspaper the O editor sent me out to the reception- room to see what a caller wanted. I found there a small, mild man with gentle blue eyes, a soft voice and a sweet smile. He wanted us, of course, to print something he had written. It was an impas- sioned and defiant defense of anarch- ism. Sheldon Chen is a mild and ge tle soul. He would not harm a kitten. He has a sweet courtesy of man- ners whichisalmost an anachronism in this strident mod- ern world. Natur- ally, he is the author of “A Primer of Modern Art,” published by Boni & Liveright in handsome style and crammed with illustrations. — In this Primer, Mr. Cheney gently and sweetly wipes from consideration all the art of the world prior to Cézanne, with the possible exception of a few little things by Michael Angelo and the negro sculpture from the Congo jungle, and bids us turn our gaze exclusively upon those pic- tures which a writ- er in that well- known humorous publica’ Christian Monitor, ov scribed as resembling a plate of old-fash- ioned clam chowder, seen from abc Mr. Cheney, of course, is not unaware that the average man, who has been brought up to consider Coles Phillips and Neysa McMein artists, cannot all at once grasp the full meaning of an “A by Walter Prichard Eaton arrangement of cubes which looks as if Senator Wheeler had been investigating a box of the baby’s blocks, and which is labeled, “Man with a Mandolin.” Not being able to see either the man or the Cheney, not scornful of him, but full of pity for his ignorance, has prepared this Primer, to take, as he says, the blinders from the eyes of just’ such ordinary mortals, and to initiate them into the mysteries of Mod- ernism. Tt so chanced that the Primer lay conspicuously on my table for two or three weeks before I got a chance to be ini- tiated myself, and during that time I had ample proof that just such a text-book is need- ed. Guest after guest. came in, picked up thebook, looked at the pic- tures, and proceed- ed to air his (or her) wit at the ex- pense of modern art. “Hello, what's this? A. slightly shop-worn custard Well, some nen may look like that, but give me the Follies “The Brooklyn Bridge, eh I thought it was an explosion in a wire factory. “My God, does he call that beau- tiful?” “Hello, here's a peanut on top of an egg! Oh, beg pardon, it’s the statue of a lady.” “ ‘Mother and creature not too bright or good for human Child, by Jacob nature’s daily food.”—Wadsworth. mandolin, the ordinary chap, who has never had any difficulty in detecting that school-girl complexion or the lustrous sheen of darn-defying hosiery, considers the artist an ass. It does not occur to him that possibly the trouble is with him as much as with the artist. So the kindly Epstein.” Hm, it looks more like a monkey with a basket ball.” “Say, is the guy who wrote this book serious?” “Well, all I've got to say about it is, if that is modern art, I'm glad I'm old- fashioned!” (Continued on page 29) comicbooks.com