the great statuary of chinaby victor segalen

3
Leonardo The Great Statuary of China by Victor Segalen Review by: Richard Perry Leonardo, Vol. 15, No. 3 (Summer, 1982), pp. 251-252 Published by: The MIT Press Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/1574723 . Accessed: 18/06/2014 08:34 Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at . http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp . JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected]. . The MIT Press and Leonardo are collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to Leonardo. http://www.jstor.org This content downloaded from 62.122.72.20 on Wed, 18 Jun 2014 08:34:19 AM All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

Upload: review-by-richard-perry

Post on 13-Jan-2017

214 views

Category:

Documents


1 download

TRANSCRIPT

Page 1: The Great Statuary of Chinaby Victor Segalen

Leonardo

The Great Statuary of China by Victor SegalenReview by: Richard PerryLeonardo, Vol. 15, No. 3 (Summer, 1982), pp. 251-252Published by: The MIT PressStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/1574723 .

Accessed: 18/06/2014 08:34

Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at .http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp

.JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range ofcontent in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new formsof scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected].

.

The MIT Press and Leonardo are collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access toLeonardo.

http://www.jstor.org

This content downloaded from 62.122.72.20 on Wed, 18 Jun 2014 08:34:19 AMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

Page 2: The Great Statuary of Chinaby Victor Segalen

Books Books Books

for the discussions of theory. These include Perkins and Cooper's analysis of perception of incomplete forms, Haber's survey of geometric optics and the more technical accounts of geometry by Sedgwick and Lumsden, and Coffman's description of how the left and right hemispheres work together in perception. The discussions of issues includes Rosinski and Farber on how viewers of perspectival depictions compensate for being at incorrect viewings points; Olson, Yonas and Cooper on children's perception of pictures and Cobe on perception of representations by animals; and Kennedy's account of blind people's use of haptic pictures.

This material seems to test theories of picture perception. Determining if animals or people from cultures without depictions can see pictures tests Goodman's theory that we must learn to see pictures. Studying compensations for seeing perspectival pictures from wrong viewing points and how we see non-perspectival pictures relates to the dispute between Gombrich and Goodman about whether perspective is an arbitrary convention. But providing empirical disconfirmation of such theories isn't easy. That perspective is 'the most successful' (II, 220) mode of depiction or that animals without language can see pictures (II, 308) are not necessarily, as implied here, objections to Goodman's account. Frequently earlier data turn out to be confused or confusing. Jones and Hagan show that previous studies of Africans' picture perception used misleading charts and were racially biased; what positive conclusions can be drawn is harder to determine. It may be that theories of aestheticians are too vaguely formulated to be empirically testable. But showing that would require an explanation of the relations between a theory of perception and the data supporting it, and between theories of perception and aestheticians' theories. At least four positions on the later question may be found here. One: A correct theory of perception can disprove some aestheticians' claims. If perspective is the basis of perception and so non-conventional, Goodman is wrong. Two: Psychologists discover what painters and possibly art historians have already implicitly been aware of. Matisse and Vuillard flatten pictures, Hochberg says, using Gestalt laws only later discovered by psychologists. Three: Psychology may suggest, but cannot confirm or disconfirm theories of art. Gombrich's account of 'making and matching' in Art and Illusion is derived from psychology, but his claims about the value of naturalism involve a personal interpretation. Hochberg's more favorable evaluation of modernism-a flattening of the picture allows for 'a vastly wider subject matter' (11,89) than in traditional art-is not simply a product of his different analysis of perception. Four: Psychology can say nothing substantive about aesthetics. Vision, Wartofsky argues in his paper, is 'a cultural and historical artifact, created and transformed by our own modes of representation' (II, 132). Perhaps psychology only describes how pictures have taught us to see.

Until it is clear which of these not all incompatible positions are correct, non-psychologists like myself interested in applications of psychology to art will have a hard time knowing how or if psychology is useful for us. Synthesizing this large mass of often specialized material is difficult. Sometimes it isn't clear what the data could show. Friedman and Stevenson gather statistics on pictures depicting motion without linking that data to a theory of such pictures; surprisingly, they don't mention Gombrich's important paper on their subject. Their paper, like many here, would be easier to follow if better motivated. Often what larger questions are at stake, or what different approaches are available isn't explained; and since this material is intended in part for non- psychologists, this seems a serious defect. Here, as often in work intended to be interdisciplinary, the gap between specialists in different domains is hard to bridge. Only one essay here contributes directly to the study of art. Perkins and Hagan brilliantly show experimentally that the two major theories of caricature are wrong, and propose new approaches. Whether the rest of this fascinating work on psychology can be used equally productively by those interested in art remains, still, an open question.

Silk Screen Techniques. J. I. Biegeleisen and Max Cohn. Dover, New York, 1980. 185 pp., illus. Paper, $3.00. Reviewed by Romas Viesulas*

This book is a reprint of the one published by the same publisher in 1958 under the same title. It was a basic, useful book when it first appeared and still is. It deals with information at an introductory level and

for the discussions of theory. These include Perkins and Cooper's analysis of perception of incomplete forms, Haber's survey of geometric optics and the more technical accounts of geometry by Sedgwick and Lumsden, and Coffman's description of how the left and right hemispheres work together in perception. The discussions of issues includes Rosinski and Farber on how viewers of perspectival depictions compensate for being at incorrect viewings points; Olson, Yonas and Cooper on children's perception of pictures and Cobe on perception of representations by animals; and Kennedy's account of blind people's use of haptic pictures.

This material seems to test theories of picture perception. Determining if animals or people from cultures without depictions can see pictures tests Goodman's theory that we must learn to see pictures. Studying compensations for seeing perspectival pictures from wrong viewing points and how we see non-perspectival pictures relates to the dispute between Gombrich and Goodman about whether perspective is an arbitrary convention. But providing empirical disconfirmation of such theories isn't easy. That perspective is 'the most successful' (II, 220) mode of depiction or that animals without language can see pictures (II, 308) are not necessarily, as implied here, objections to Goodman's account. Frequently earlier data turn out to be confused or confusing. Jones and Hagan show that previous studies of Africans' picture perception used misleading charts and were racially biased; what positive conclusions can be drawn is harder to determine. It may be that theories of aestheticians are too vaguely formulated to be empirically testable. But showing that would require an explanation of the relations between a theory of perception and the data supporting it, and between theories of perception and aestheticians' theories. At least four positions on the later question may be found here. One: A correct theory of perception can disprove some aestheticians' claims. If perspective is the basis of perception and so non-conventional, Goodman is wrong. Two: Psychologists discover what painters and possibly art historians have already implicitly been aware of. Matisse and Vuillard flatten pictures, Hochberg says, using Gestalt laws only later discovered by psychologists. Three: Psychology may suggest, but cannot confirm or disconfirm theories of art. Gombrich's account of 'making and matching' in Art and Illusion is derived from psychology, but his claims about the value of naturalism involve a personal interpretation. Hochberg's more favorable evaluation of modernism-a flattening of the picture allows for 'a vastly wider subject matter' (11,89) than in traditional art-is not simply a product of his different analysis of perception. Four: Psychology can say nothing substantive about aesthetics. Vision, Wartofsky argues in his paper, is 'a cultural and historical artifact, created and transformed by our own modes of representation' (II, 132). Perhaps psychology only describes how pictures have taught us to see.

Until it is clear which of these not all incompatible positions are correct, non-psychologists like myself interested in applications of psychology to art will have a hard time knowing how or if psychology is useful for us. Synthesizing this large mass of often specialized material is difficult. Sometimes it isn't clear what the data could show. Friedman and Stevenson gather statistics on pictures depicting motion without linking that data to a theory of such pictures; surprisingly, they don't mention Gombrich's important paper on their subject. Their paper, like many here, would be easier to follow if better motivated. Often what larger questions are at stake, or what different approaches are available isn't explained; and since this material is intended in part for non- psychologists, this seems a serious defect. Here, as often in work intended to be interdisciplinary, the gap between specialists in different domains is hard to bridge. Only one essay here contributes directly to the study of art. Perkins and Hagan brilliantly show experimentally that the two major theories of caricature are wrong, and propose new approaches. Whether the rest of this fascinating work on psychology can be used equally productively by those interested in art remains, still, an open question.

Silk Screen Techniques. J. I. Biegeleisen and Max Cohn. Dover, New York, 1980. 185 pp., illus. Paper, $3.00. Reviewed by Romas Viesulas*

This book is a reprint of the one published by the same publisher in 1958 under the same title. It was a basic, useful book when it first appeared and still is. It deals with information at an introductory level and

for the discussions of theory. These include Perkins and Cooper's analysis of perception of incomplete forms, Haber's survey of geometric optics and the more technical accounts of geometry by Sedgwick and Lumsden, and Coffman's description of how the left and right hemispheres work together in perception. The discussions of issues includes Rosinski and Farber on how viewers of perspectival depictions compensate for being at incorrect viewings points; Olson, Yonas and Cooper on children's perception of pictures and Cobe on perception of representations by animals; and Kennedy's account of blind people's use of haptic pictures.

This material seems to test theories of picture perception. Determining if animals or people from cultures without depictions can see pictures tests Goodman's theory that we must learn to see pictures. Studying compensations for seeing perspectival pictures from wrong viewing points and how we see non-perspectival pictures relates to the dispute between Gombrich and Goodman about whether perspective is an arbitrary convention. But providing empirical disconfirmation of such theories isn't easy. That perspective is 'the most successful' (II, 220) mode of depiction or that animals without language can see pictures (II, 308) are not necessarily, as implied here, objections to Goodman's account. Frequently earlier data turn out to be confused or confusing. Jones and Hagan show that previous studies of Africans' picture perception used misleading charts and were racially biased; what positive conclusions can be drawn is harder to determine. It may be that theories of aestheticians are too vaguely formulated to be empirically testable. But showing that would require an explanation of the relations between a theory of perception and the data supporting it, and between theories of perception and aestheticians' theories. At least four positions on the later question may be found here. One: A correct theory of perception can disprove some aestheticians' claims. If perspective is the basis of perception and so non-conventional, Goodman is wrong. Two: Psychologists discover what painters and possibly art historians have already implicitly been aware of. Matisse and Vuillard flatten pictures, Hochberg says, using Gestalt laws only later discovered by psychologists. Three: Psychology may suggest, but cannot confirm or disconfirm theories of art. Gombrich's account of 'making and matching' in Art and Illusion is derived from psychology, but his claims about the value of naturalism involve a personal interpretation. Hochberg's more favorable evaluation of modernism-a flattening of the picture allows for 'a vastly wider subject matter' (11,89) than in traditional art-is not simply a product of his different analysis of perception. Four: Psychology can say nothing substantive about aesthetics. Vision, Wartofsky argues in his paper, is 'a cultural and historical artifact, created and transformed by our own modes of representation' (II, 132). Perhaps psychology only describes how pictures have taught us to see.

Until it is clear which of these not all incompatible positions are correct, non-psychologists like myself interested in applications of psychology to art will have a hard time knowing how or if psychology is useful for us. Synthesizing this large mass of often specialized material is difficult. Sometimes it isn't clear what the data could show. Friedman and Stevenson gather statistics on pictures depicting motion without linking that data to a theory of such pictures; surprisingly, they don't mention Gombrich's important paper on their subject. Their paper, like many here, would be easier to follow if better motivated. Often what larger questions are at stake, or what different approaches are available isn't explained; and since this material is intended in part for non- psychologists, this seems a serious defect. Here, as often in work intended to be interdisciplinary, the gap between specialists in different domains is hard to bridge. Only one essay here contributes directly to the study of art. Perkins and Hagan brilliantly show experimentally that the two major theories of caricature are wrong, and propose new approaches. Whether the rest of this fascinating work on psychology can be used equally productively by those interested in art remains, still, an open question.

Silk Screen Techniques. J. I. Biegeleisen and Max Cohn. Dover, New York, 1980. 185 pp., illus. Paper, $3.00. Reviewed by Romas Viesulas*

This book is a reprint of the one published by the same publisher in 1958 under the same title. It was a basic, useful book when it first appeared and still is. It deals with information at an introductory level and

*Tyler School of Art, Temple University, Philadelphia, PA 19126, U.S.A.

*Tyler School of Art, Temple University, Philadelphia, PA 19126, U.S.A.

*Tyler School of Art, Temple University, Philadelphia, PA 19126, U.S.A.

251 251 251

transmits that information with simple clarity and with an occasional touch of humor, that is a welcome help for a not-too-sure beginner in screenprinting. Information covers basic equipment, manual stencils and discusses rudimentary steps in photographic methods and color printing; there is even a brief look at the original of serigraphy. However, being a reprint of 1958, it stops short of more recent developments in screenprinting and they are many. Screenprinting is one of the processes which in the last several decades has expanded tremendously. Although fundamental methods have not changed much, there is impressive growth in new materials, equipment and their uses. In any recent publication that is meant for practical contemporary use, as this book is, these facts deserve at least to be mentioned. And that is precisely the problem with this reprint.

The book claims to be a corrected and enlarged edition that purportedly has a new preface by the author (information on cover). One only wishes that this was true, as the book, unfortunately has none of that and needs it badly. Being a facsimile reprint of the old edition, this book is not corrected or enlarged. Except for the new list of suppliers added to substitute the old outdated one, nothing has been added to it. If anything, by its own account, it has eight illustrations less, as several color illustrations have been removed from the previous edition (having 141 illustrations now instead of 149 before). The book is in bad need of at least a new preface or an introduction which would clarify some apparent incongruities in the text. As they appear now, to an innocent reader unaware of recent developments in art, these may be puzzling, if not outright confusing. To include an old preface which claims that 'many new illustrations have been added which reflect the latest and the best of the contemporary serigraphy printmaking', in a book to which nothing is added and which shows much outdated visual material of the 1950s, is a plain oversight. Many of the illustrations were insignificant at the time of the first publication, and in the present visual context, they seem to be plainly naive. Inevitably there are many technical items which would be in need of updating; some of them are very basic. For instance, the fabrics used in screenprinting mentioned here are still silk and organdie and there is no mention of the more versatile and durable synthetic fabrics (nylon, dacron, polyester); squeegee is mentioned as still having a rubber blade which is seldom used now as neoprene and polyurethane have replaced it. There are other curiosities like 'carpet tacks' (instead of staples) used in stretching screens and cost of silk still at a nostalgic $3.50 per yard. The book does have a new list of suppliers; however, in the text this has not been corrected and a number of long-ago defunct suppliers still remain listed (p. 141).

The Great Statuary of China. Victor Segalen. The University of Chicago Press, Chicago and London, 1978. 192 pp., illus. $20.00 hardcover. ISBN: 0-226-74448-5. Reviewed by Richard Perry*

Victor Segalen (1878-1919) served as a physician in the French navy, explored Polynesia, published a novel and wrote two librettos for Debussy before he discovered what was to provide the major focus for his brief life: the statuary of China. Following a preliminary expedition of the Far East, he returned to Paris to study with one of the great early writers on Chinese art, Edouard Chavannes. Segalen made three subsequent archaelogical explorations in China, first in 1907 with the Russian sinologist J. X. Alexeiev and then in 1909 and 1914 with his close colleagues Gilbert de Voisins and Jean Lartigue. His excavations revealed many rare, unique and important finds and he brought to these discoveries a particularly poetic sensibility, a somewhat febrile literary style, a keen intuition, and numerous prejudices.

His major work, Chine: La grande statuaire, somewhat stiffly but no doubt accurately translated here by Eleanor Levieux, is affected by all of these qualities. It is an important historical document itself in that it speaks with an excitement that can only come from penetrating terra incognita; it also has some nostalgia value in that Segalen admits to a 'vivid and biased' approach which modern scholars find anathema.

This freedom to approach art without an overbearing sense of academic objectivity and dispassion allowed Segalen to share his judgements and feelings rather spontaneously. The benefits can be seen in his descriptive passages which admit a sensuality rarely encountered today; e.g. in describing a winged lion from the Tomb of Hsiao Ching, Segalen notes that: 'the wet marble was black; the earth, ready for

transmits that information with simple clarity and with an occasional touch of humor, that is a welcome help for a not-too-sure beginner in screenprinting. Information covers basic equipment, manual stencils and discusses rudimentary steps in photographic methods and color printing; there is even a brief look at the original of serigraphy. However, being a reprint of 1958, it stops short of more recent developments in screenprinting and they are many. Screenprinting is one of the processes which in the last several decades has expanded tremendously. Although fundamental methods have not changed much, there is impressive growth in new materials, equipment and their uses. In any recent publication that is meant for practical contemporary use, as this book is, these facts deserve at least to be mentioned. And that is precisely the problem with this reprint.

The book claims to be a corrected and enlarged edition that purportedly has a new preface by the author (information on cover). One only wishes that this was true, as the book, unfortunately has none of that and needs it badly. Being a facsimile reprint of the old edition, this book is not corrected or enlarged. Except for the new list of suppliers added to substitute the old outdated one, nothing has been added to it. If anything, by its own account, it has eight illustrations less, as several color illustrations have been removed from the previous edition (having 141 illustrations now instead of 149 before). The book is in bad need of at least a new preface or an introduction which would clarify some apparent incongruities in the text. As they appear now, to an innocent reader unaware of recent developments in art, these may be puzzling, if not outright confusing. To include an old preface which claims that 'many new illustrations have been added which reflect the latest and the best of the contemporary serigraphy printmaking', in a book to which nothing is added and which shows much outdated visual material of the 1950s, is a plain oversight. Many of the illustrations were insignificant at the time of the first publication, and in the present visual context, they seem to be plainly naive. Inevitably there are many technical items which would be in need of updating; some of them are very basic. For instance, the fabrics used in screenprinting mentioned here are still silk and organdie and there is no mention of the more versatile and durable synthetic fabrics (nylon, dacron, polyester); squeegee is mentioned as still having a rubber blade which is seldom used now as neoprene and polyurethane have replaced it. There are other curiosities like 'carpet tacks' (instead of staples) used in stretching screens and cost of silk still at a nostalgic $3.50 per yard. The book does have a new list of suppliers; however, in the text this has not been corrected and a number of long-ago defunct suppliers still remain listed (p. 141).

The Great Statuary of China. Victor Segalen. The University of Chicago Press, Chicago and London, 1978. 192 pp., illus. $20.00 hardcover. ISBN: 0-226-74448-5. Reviewed by Richard Perry*

Victor Segalen (1878-1919) served as a physician in the French navy, explored Polynesia, published a novel and wrote two librettos for Debussy before he discovered what was to provide the major focus for his brief life: the statuary of China. Following a preliminary expedition of the Far East, he returned to Paris to study with one of the great early writers on Chinese art, Edouard Chavannes. Segalen made three subsequent archaelogical explorations in China, first in 1907 with the Russian sinologist J. X. Alexeiev and then in 1909 and 1914 with his close colleagues Gilbert de Voisins and Jean Lartigue. His excavations revealed many rare, unique and important finds and he brought to these discoveries a particularly poetic sensibility, a somewhat febrile literary style, a keen intuition, and numerous prejudices.

His major work, Chine: La grande statuaire, somewhat stiffly but no doubt accurately translated here by Eleanor Levieux, is affected by all of these qualities. It is an important historical document itself in that it speaks with an excitement that can only come from penetrating terra incognita; it also has some nostalgia value in that Segalen admits to a 'vivid and biased' approach which modern scholars find anathema.

This freedom to approach art without an overbearing sense of academic objectivity and dispassion allowed Segalen to share his judgements and feelings rather spontaneously. The benefits can be seen in his descriptive passages which admit a sensuality rarely encountered today; e.g. in describing a winged lion from the Tomb of Hsiao Ching, Segalen notes that: 'the wet marble was black; the earth, ready for

transmits that information with simple clarity and with an occasional touch of humor, that is a welcome help for a not-too-sure beginner in screenprinting. Information covers basic equipment, manual stencils and discusses rudimentary steps in photographic methods and color printing; there is even a brief look at the original of serigraphy. However, being a reprint of 1958, it stops short of more recent developments in screenprinting and they are many. Screenprinting is one of the processes which in the last several decades has expanded tremendously. Although fundamental methods have not changed much, there is impressive growth in new materials, equipment and their uses. In any recent publication that is meant for practical contemporary use, as this book is, these facts deserve at least to be mentioned. And that is precisely the problem with this reprint.

The book claims to be a corrected and enlarged edition that purportedly has a new preface by the author (information on cover). One only wishes that this was true, as the book, unfortunately has none of that and needs it badly. Being a facsimile reprint of the old edition, this book is not corrected or enlarged. Except for the new list of suppliers added to substitute the old outdated one, nothing has been added to it. If anything, by its own account, it has eight illustrations less, as several color illustrations have been removed from the previous edition (having 141 illustrations now instead of 149 before). The book is in bad need of at least a new preface or an introduction which would clarify some apparent incongruities in the text. As they appear now, to an innocent reader unaware of recent developments in art, these may be puzzling, if not outright confusing. To include an old preface which claims that 'many new illustrations have been added which reflect the latest and the best of the contemporary serigraphy printmaking', in a book to which nothing is added and which shows much outdated visual material of the 1950s, is a plain oversight. Many of the illustrations were insignificant at the time of the first publication, and in the present visual context, they seem to be plainly naive. Inevitably there are many technical items which would be in need of updating; some of them are very basic. For instance, the fabrics used in screenprinting mentioned here are still silk and organdie and there is no mention of the more versatile and durable synthetic fabrics (nylon, dacron, polyester); squeegee is mentioned as still having a rubber blade which is seldom used now as neoprene and polyurethane have replaced it. There are other curiosities like 'carpet tacks' (instead of staples) used in stretching screens and cost of silk still at a nostalgic $3.50 per yard. The book does have a new list of suppliers; however, in the text this has not been corrected and a number of long-ago defunct suppliers still remain listed (p. 141).

The Great Statuary of China. Victor Segalen. The University of Chicago Press, Chicago and London, 1978. 192 pp., illus. $20.00 hardcover. ISBN: 0-226-74448-5. Reviewed by Richard Perry*

Victor Segalen (1878-1919) served as a physician in the French navy, explored Polynesia, published a novel and wrote two librettos for Debussy before he discovered what was to provide the major focus for his brief life: the statuary of China. Following a preliminary expedition of the Far East, he returned to Paris to study with one of the great early writers on Chinese art, Edouard Chavannes. Segalen made three subsequent archaelogical explorations in China, first in 1907 with the Russian sinologist J. X. Alexeiev and then in 1909 and 1914 with his close colleagues Gilbert de Voisins and Jean Lartigue. His excavations revealed many rare, unique and important finds and he brought to these discoveries a particularly poetic sensibility, a somewhat febrile literary style, a keen intuition, and numerous prejudices.

His major work, Chine: La grande statuaire, somewhat stiffly but no doubt accurately translated here by Eleanor Levieux, is affected by all of these qualities. It is an important historical document itself in that it speaks with an excitement that can only come from penetrating terra incognita; it also has some nostalgia value in that Segalen admits to a 'vivid and biased' approach which modern scholars find anathema.

This freedom to approach art without an overbearing sense of academic objectivity and dispassion allowed Segalen to share his judgements and feelings rather spontaneously. The benefits can be seen in his descriptive passages which admit a sensuality rarely encountered today; e.g. in describing a winged lion from the Tomb of Hsiao Ching, Segalen notes that: 'the wet marble was black; the earth, ready for

*Dept. of Visual Arts, York University, 4700 Keele Street, Downsview, Ontario, M3J IPS, Canada.

*Dept. of Visual Arts, York University, 4700 Keele Street, Downsview, Ontario, M3J IPS, Canada.

*Dept. of Visual Arts, York University, 4700 Keele Street, Downsview, Ontario, M3J IPS, Canada.

This content downloaded from 62.122.72.20 on Wed, 18 Jun 2014 08:34:19 AMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

Page 3: The Great Statuary of Chinaby Victor Segalen

252 252 252 Books Books Books

germination, was brown and russet... The first thing we notice is the tongue, whose complete, fleshy, voluptuous curve was pleasant to touch.' For all of the advancement in our knowledge of Chinese statuary art, no one has ceded as immediate a tactile appreciation of the objects as Segalen did.

On the other hand, many of his annotations are charmingly impetuous at best. In approaching the famous t'ao t'ieh on the great Shen pillar, Segalen enjoyed too much his own metaphor that the beast was like a 'mole digging away and finishing his hole' when he used the metaphor to explain 'why the nose is flattened out: he has pushed back the stone'.

Likewise, what he admired, he praised with ebullience; what he despised, he simply dismissed. In the latter category falls all Ch'ing statuary, and almost all Buddhist sculpture, which he finds 'neither beautiful nor Chinese'. In a chapter entitled 'The Buddhist Heresy', he claims that 'the only thing great about the thousand Buddhas of Lung- men and Yun-kang ... is the span of their wide-open hands.'

An important feature in the present edition of Segalen's early exegesis on Chinese statuary encountered in the field is an 'Afterward' by Vadime Elisseeff, Director of the Cernuschi Museum, Paris. Elisseeff reminds the reader that Segalen died before the great period of excavation in China and proceeds to indicate some of the major advances since 1919 in order to augment, even if briefly, the young Frenchman's findings.

Ultimately, then, one must read Segalen's text less for art historical accuracy than for historiographic relevance; I believe that its idiosyncratic approach and style will enchant some and alienate others, but its reissue is certainly warranted and applauded.

The Artist by Himself: Self-portrait Drawings from Youth to Old Age. Joan Kinneir, ed., Granada, London, 1980. 224 pp., illus., ?9.95. ISBN: 0-236-40160-2. Reviewed by Inge Hoffman*

Here are seventy relatively little known self-portrait drawings and texts chosen from the work of men (plus 1 woman) who lived between 1400 and the present. Some of the painters are unknown, some perhaps not artists, but most of the works have an allure which will delight or profoundly move the gazer.

Even without the title explanation, we would have recognized these as self-portraits. Why? Is it the riveting stare of the artist's eyes looking into our own? Is it something indefinable in the pose? More personal than paintings, the calligraphy of the drawings clearly traces mood and character in its gestures. And in comparing these curiously assembled works one common impression emerges: there is a magic intensity in the self-portrait which infuses life and with it, artistic merit, even into the slighter works presented here. But beyond that, what is one to make of this collection?

Both the student and the scholar will be disappointed. For the editor shows poor judgment about nearly everything except the portraits themselves. The organization of the material is not felicitous and the texts are uneven.

The portraits are arranged chronologically by the age of the artist when he sketched it, but often the age of the artist is omitted in the text. So we begin with the ca 12 year old Diirer's famous self-portrait (1484) and go on to an unknown schoolboy's one known work, aged 14(1954), and to Raphael's undated portrait of the 15th century, aged 16/17. Eventually, the mid-life painters bring us to Wyndam Lewis, aged 51 in 1932, Holbein, 51 in 1516, Bellini, 65 in 1496, and Blake at 53 in 1810, in that order. Thus 1484, 1879, 1932, 1954, 1516, 1496 and 1810 is the chronological sequence of these portraits. The author tries to draw few conclusions from these juxtapositions. To us, this helter-skelter sequence doesn't reveal its merit as a principle of organization.

Perhaps in frustration, the reader will play guessing games along with the reviewer: looking at the portraits selected by the editor, do we detect more melancholy, brooding, introspective moods of self-doubt in youth than in later life? Whereas Rembrandt's at 29, Picasso's at 30 begin to show more of a sense of well-being? Do we agree with the editor that anyone besides Hokusai shows 'the resilience of old age'? Few are the expressions of delight on the faces of any of the portraits here chosen. But on the basis of such a selection, the scholar will beware of drawing any conclusions.

Accompanying each portrait, there is a hodge-podge of information. If we're lucky, the texts are written by the painters-there are a few good

germination, was brown and russet... The first thing we notice is the tongue, whose complete, fleshy, voluptuous curve was pleasant to touch.' For all of the advancement in our knowledge of Chinese statuary art, no one has ceded as immediate a tactile appreciation of the objects as Segalen did.

On the other hand, many of his annotations are charmingly impetuous at best. In approaching the famous t'ao t'ieh on the great Shen pillar, Segalen enjoyed too much his own metaphor that the beast was like a 'mole digging away and finishing his hole' when he used the metaphor to explain 'why the nose is flattened out: he has pushed back the stone'.

Likewise, what he admired, he praised with ebullience; what he despised, he simply dismissed. In the latter category falls all Ch'ing statuary, and almost all Buddhist sculpture, which he finds 'neither beautiful nor Chinese'. In a chapter entitled 'The Buddhist Heresy', he claims that 'the only thing great about the thousand Buddhas of Lung- men and Yun-kang ... is the span of their wide-open hands.'

An important feature in the present edition of Segalen's early exegesis on Chinese statuary encountered in the field is an 'Afterward' by Vadime Elisseeff, Director of the Cernuschi Museum, Paris. Elisseeff reminds the reader that Segalen died before the great period of excavation in China and proceeds to indicate some of the major advances since 1919 in order to augment, even if briefly, the young Frenchman's findings.

Ultimately, then, one must read Segalen's text less for art historical accuracy than for historiographic relevance; I believe that its idiosyncratic approach and style will enchant some and alienate others, but its reissue is certainly warranted and applauded.

The Artist by Himself: Self-portrait Drawings from Youth to Old Age. Joan Kinneir, ed., Granada, London, 1980. 224 pp., illus., ?9.95. ISBN: 0-236-40160-2. Reviewed by Inge Hoffman*

Here are seventy relatively little known self-portrait drawings and texts chosen from the work of men (plus 1 woman) who lived between 1400 and the present. Some of the painters are unknown, some perhaps not artists, but most of the works have an allure which will delight or profoundly move the gazer.

Even without the title explanation, we would have recognized these as self-portraits. Why? Is it the riveting stare of the artist's eyes looking into our own? Is it something indefinable in the pose? More personal than paintings, the calligraphy of the drawings clearly traces mood and character in its gestures. And in comparing these curiously assembled works one common impression emerges: there is a magic intensity in the self-portrait which infuses life and with it, artistic merit, even into the slighter works presented here. But beyond that, what is one to make of this collection?

Both the student and the scholar will be disappointed. For the editor shows poor judgment about nearly everything except the portraits themselves. The organization of the material is not felicitous and the texts are uneven.

The portraits are arranged chronologically by the age of the artist when he sketched it, but often the age of the artist is omitted in the text. So we begin with the ca 12 year old Diirer's famous self-portrait (1484) and go on to an unknown schoolboy's one known work, aged 14(1954), and to Raphael's undated portrait of the 15th century, aged 16/17. Eventually, the mid-life painters bring us to Wyndam Lewis, aged 51 in 1932, Holbein, 51 in 1516, Bellini, 65 in 1496, and Blake at 53 in 1810, in that order. Thus 1484, 1879, 1932, 1954, 1516, 1496 and 1810 is the chronological sequence of these portraits. The author tries to draw few conclusions from these juxtapositions. To us, this helter-skelter sequence doesn't reveal its merit as a principle of organization.

Perhaps in frustration, the reader will play guessing games along with the reviewer: looking at the portraits selected by the editor, do we detect more melancholy, brooding, introspective moods of self-doubt in youth than in later life? Whereas Rembrandt's at 29, Picasso's at 30 begin to show more of a sense of well-being? Do we agree with the editor that anyone besides Hokusai shows 'the resilience of old age'? Few are the expressions of delight on the faces of any of the portraits here chosen. But on the basis of such a selection, the scholar will beware of drawing any conclusions.

Accompanying each portrait, there is a hodge-podge of information. If we're lucky, the texts are written by the painters-there are a few good

germination, was brown and russet... The first thing we notice is the tongue, whose complete, fleshy, voluptuous curve was pleasant to touch.' For all of the advancement in our knowledge of Chinese statuary art, no one has ceded as immediate a tactile appreciation of the objects as Segalen did.

On the other hand, many of his annotations are charmingly impetuous at best. In approaching the famous t'ao t'ieh on the great Shen pillar, Segalen enjoyed too much his own metaphor that the beast was like a 'mole digging away and finishing his hole' when he used the metaphor to explain 'why the nose is flattened out: he has pushed back the stone'.

Likewise, what he admired, he praised with ebullience; what he despised, he simply dismissed. In the latter category falls all Ch'ing statuary, and almost all Buddhist sculpture, which he finds 'neither beautiful nor Chinese'. In a chapter entitled 'The Buddhist Heresy', he claims that 'the only thing great about the thousand Buddhas of Lung- men and Yun-kang ... is the span of their wide-open hands.'

An important feature in the present edition of Segalen's early exegesis on Chinese statuary encountered in the field is an 'Afterward' by Vadime Elisseeff, Director of the Cernuschi Museum, Paris. Elisseeff reminds the reader that Segalen died before the great period of excavation in China and proceeds to indicate some of the major advances since 1919 in order to augment, even if briefly, the young Frenchman's findings.

Ultimately, then, one must read Segalen's text less for art historical accuracy than for historiographic relevance; I believe that its idiosyncratic approach and style will enchant some and alienate others, but its reissue is certainly warranted and applauded.

The Artist by Himself: Self-portrait Drawings from Youth to Old Age. Joan Kinneir, ed., Granada, London, 1980. 224 pp., illus., ?9.95. ISBN: 0-236-40160-2. Reviewed by Inge Hoffman*

Here are seventy relatively little known self-portrait drawings and texts chosen from the work of men (plus 1 woman) who lived between 1400 and the present. Some of the painters are unknown, some perhaps not artists, but most of the works have an allure which will delight or profoundly move the gazer.

Even without the title explanation, we would have recognized these as self-portraits. Why? Is it the riveting stare of the artist's eyes looking into our own? Is it something indefinable in the pose? More personal than paintings, the calligraphy of the drawings clearly traces mood and character in its gestures. And in comparing these curiously assembled works one common impression emerges: there is a magic intensity in the self-portrait which infuses life and with it, artistic merit, even into the slighter works presented here. But beyond that, what is one to make of this collection?

Both the student and the scholar will be disappointed. For the editor shows poor judgment about nearly everything except the portraits themselves. The organization of the material is not felicitous and the texts are uneven.

The portraits are arranged chronologically by the age of the artist when he sketched it, but often the age of the artist is omitted in the text. So we begin with the ca 12 year old Diirer's famous self-portrait (1484) and go on to an unknown schoolboy's one known work, aged 14(1954), and to Raphael's undated portrait of the 15th century, aged 16/17. Eventually, the mid-life painters bring us to Wyndam Lewis, aged 51 in 1932, Holbein, 51 in 1516, Bellini, 65 in 1496, and Blake at 53 in 1810, in that order. Thus 1484, 1879, 1932, 1954, 1516, 1496 and 1810 is the chronological sequence of these portraits. The author tries to draw few conclusions from these juxtapositions. To us, this helter-skelter sequence doesn't reveal its merit as a principle of organization.

Perhaps in frustration, the reader will play guessing games along with the reviewer: looking at the portraits selected by the editor, do we detect more melancholy, brooding, introspective moods of self-doubt in youth than in later life? Whereas Rembrandt's at 29, Picasso's at 30 begin to show more of a sense of well-being? Do we agree with the editor that anyone besides Hokusai shows 'the resilience of old age'? Few are the expressions of delight on the faces of any of the portraits here chosen. But on the basis of such a selection, the scholar will beware of drawing any conclusions.

Accompanying each portrait, there is a hodge-podge of information. If we're lucky, the texts are written by the painters-there are a few good

ones by Van Gogh, Kokoshka and Henry Moore; but mostly they do not reveal anything important about the artist or his work. The reader loses even more confidence in the collector when he reads endless and irrelevant footnotes or tries to make comparisons between painters and finds no alphabetic index. Often the footnotes are mechanical identifications, e.g. is it important for the understanding of Rouault to know that it was a Mr. Gretry, born in 1741, who set the words of a childhood memory to music, and what of Vercingetorix, who the footnote reminds us, defeated Caesar in 51 BC? What do these two facts cluttering the references reveal about Rouault? So the reader may decide to skip the footnotes. Wrong again-for in that same clutter, we find a gem which should have been kept in the main text: 'Between the ages of 14 and 18, Rouault was apprenticed to a stainglass maker.' Here we have a lead to Rouault's later 'stainglass' style which may come as a surprise to some readers, who would like to learn more about that fact and could do without the two and a half pages describing what Mrs. Ingres spent on bacon, corn, her husband's hat and her gloves in July 1841.

Most baffling and symptomatic of the failures of this collection is the selection on Blake. The self-portrait is set on a page which may be his diary and where the tenacious reader may painfully decipher parts of a fascinating message of Blake's views on art and the model. Instead of helping the reader to decipher this text, Kinneir directs our attention only to the self-portrait and to her appended text, which is a letter by Blake of questionable centrality to his life as an artist.

There is no doubt good raw material here, if the serious student can find what he or she is looking for.

At least artists and others at the cocktail table can find delight in randomly opening the pages to the drawings. But it does seem like a high cost (price) for such return.

Illustrated Notebooks: 1917-55. Georges Braque. Dover, New York, 1971. 117 pp., illus. Paper, $4.00. ISBN: 0-486-20232-1. Reviewed by Inge Hoffman*

Here is a bedside book to be savoured slowly like bonbons for many years.

Dover is to be thanked for making available to the general reader, at a very modest price, a facsimile edition of private notebooks of the great Georges Braque. There are 113 pages of reflections and each page is embroidered by black ink drawings, allegedly spanning all of the painter's active painting life, from the age of 35 to 73. The pages are nearly opaque and sewn, a really superior paperback bargain.

In it the reader will find Braque's preoccupation with the definition of art; but it is hedged throughout by his distrust of 'definition': 'Peindre n'est pas depeindre...' (Painting is not depicting), 'Le conformisme commence avec la definition.' 'Une chose ne peut etre d la fois vraie et vraisemblable' (A thing cannot be true and likely at the same time). 'Le tableau estfini, quand il a efface l'idee ...' (The painting is finished when it has effaced the idea). 'Definir une chose, c'est substituer la d4finition a la chose' (To define a thing is to replace it with its definition).

The translations are the only additions of Dover's unabridged republication. They are prepared by Stanley Applebaum and, as can be seen, they are faithful, if uninspired, but never wooden. They are artfully and visibly stowed out of the way of Braque's original page layout.

The designs (familiar motifs of his paintings), and the differences in handwriting, may give the expert on Braque clues about when these pages were written and whether they are presented in the original sequence. But the 'innocent' reader is given little guidance by the publisher.

And here lies the flaw and of this and, primarily, of the original Maeght facsimile edition. The Dover edition is an unabridged republication of the Maeght publication, noting the discrepancies of dates, but not indicating the publication date of the Maeght portfolio. When Maeght first published these notebooks, the collection had several ambiguities of dates and sequence: There were the Notebooks of 1917-47 (also referred to by Maeght as those of 1916-1947 and 1917-1948), and the Notebooks of 1947-55; the whole was a portfolio, presumably of loose pages. If we compare some of the pages of the two notebooks as reproduced bound in the Dover edition, we wonder whether they are in the sequence in which they were conceived. For example: plates 18 and 47. The two plates appear to be mirror reflections in their identical design and similarity or handwritings; it seems likely that they were written, at most within days of each other, yet they are

ones by Van Gogh, Kokoshka and Henry Moore; but mostly they do not reveal anything important about the artist or his work. The reader loses even more confidence in the collector when he reads endless and irrelevant footnotes or tries to make comparisons between painters and finds no alphabetic index. Often the footnotes are mechanical identifications, e.g. is it important for the understanding of Rouault to know that it was a Mr. Gretry, born in 1741, who set the words of a childhood memory to music, and what of Vercingetorix, who the footnote reminds us, defeated Caesar in 51 BC? What do these two facts cluttering the references reveal about Rouault? So the reader may decide to skip the footnotes. Wrong again-for in that same clutter, we find a gem which should have been kept in the main text: 'Between the ages of 14 and 18, Rouault was apprenticed to a stainglass maker.' Here we have a lead to Rouault's later 'stainglass' style which may come as a surprise to some readers, who would like to learn more about that fact and could do without the two and a half pages describing what Mrs. Ingres spent on bacon, corn, her husband's hat and her gloves in July 1841.

Most baffling and symptomatic of the failures of this collection is the selection on Blake. The self-portrait is set on a page which may be his diary and where the tenacious reader may painfully decipher parts of a fascinating message of Blake's views on art and the model. Instead of helping the reader to decipher this text, Kinneir directs our attention only to the self-portrait and to her appended text, which is a letter by Blake of questionable centrality to his life as an artist.

There is no doubt good raw material here, if the serious student can find what he or she is looking for.

At least artists and others at the cocktail table can find delight in randomly opening the pages to the drawings. But it does seem like a high cost (price) for such return.

Illustrated Notebooks: 1917-55. Georges Braque. Dover, New York, 1971. 117 pp., illus. Paper, $4.00. ISBN: 0-486-20232-1. Reviewed by Inge Hoffman*

Here is a bedside book to be savoured slowly like bonbons for many years.

Dover is to be thanked for making available to the general reader, at a very modest price, a facsimile edition of private notebooks of the great Georges Braque. There are 113 pages of reflections and each page is embroidered by black ink drawings, allegedly spanning all of the painter's active painting life, from the age of 35 to 73. The pages are nearly opaque and sewn, a really superior paperback bargain.

In it the reader will find Braque's preoccupation with the definition of art; but it is hedged throughout by his distrust of 'definition': 'Peindre n'est pas depeindre...' (Painting is not depicting), 'Le conformisme commence avec la definition.' 'Une chose ne peut etre d la fois vraie et vraisemblable' (A thing cannot be true and likely at the same time). 'Le tableau estfini, quand il a efface l'idee ...' (The painting is finished when it has effaced the idea). 'Definir une chose, c'est substituer la d4finition a la chose' (To define a thing is to replace it with its definition).

The translations are the only additions of Dover's unabridged republication. They are prepared by Stanley Applebaum and, as can be seen, they are faithful, if uninspired, but never wooden. They are artfully and visibly stowed out of the way of Braque's original page layout.

The designs (familiar motifs of his paintings), and the differences in handwriting, may give the expert on Braque clues about when these pages were written and whether they are presented in the original sequence. But the 'innocent' reader is given little guidance by the publisher.

And here lies the flaw and of this and, primarily, of the original Maeght facsimile edition. The Dover edition is an unabridged republication of the Maeght publication, noting the discrepancies of dates, but not indicating the publication date of the Maeght portfolio. When Maeght first published these notebooks, the collection had several ambiguities of dates and sequence: There were the Notebooks of 1917-47 (also referred to by Maeght as those of 1916-1947 and 1917-1948), and the Notebooks of 1947-55; the whole was a portfolio, presumably of loose pages. If we compare some of the pages of the two notebooks as reproduced bound in the Dover edition, we wonder whether they are in the sequence in which they were conceived. For example: plates 18 and 47. The two plates appear to be mirror reflections in their identical design and similarity or handwritings; it seems likely that they were written, at most within days of each other, yet they are

ones by Van Gogh, Kokoshka and Henry Moore; but mostly they do not reveal anything important about the artist or his work. The reader loses even more confidence in the collector when he reads endless and irrelevant footnotes or tries to make comparisons between painters and finds no alphabetic index. Often the footnotes are mechanical identifications, e.g. is it important for the understanding of Rouault to know that it was a Mr. Gretry, born in 1741, who set the words of a childhood memory to music, and what of Vercingetorix, who the footnote reminds us, defeated Caesar in 51 BC? What do these two facts cluttering the references reveal about Rouault? So the reader may decide to skip the footnotes. Wrong again-for in that same clutter, we find a gem which should have been kept in the main text: 'Between the ages of 14 and 18, Rouault was apprenticed to a stainglass maker.' Here we have a lead to Rouault's later 'stainglass' style which may come as a surprise to some readers, who would like to learn more about that fact and could do without the two and a half pages describing what Mrs. Ingres spent on bacon, corn, her husband's hat and her gloves in July 1841.

Most baffling and symptomatic of the failures of this collection is the selection on Blake. The self-portrait is set on a page which may be his diary and where the tenacious reader may painfully decipher parts of a fascinating message of Blake's views on art and the model. Instead of helping the reader to decipher this text, Kinneir directs our attention only to the self-portrait and to her appended text, which is a letter by Blake of questionable centrality to his life as an artist.

There is no doubt good raw material here, if the serious student can find what he or she is looking for.

At least artists and others at the cocktail table can find delight in randomly opening the pages to the drawings. But it does seem like a high cost (price) for such return.

Illustrated Notebooks: 1917-55. Georges Braque. Dover, New York, 1971. 117 pp., illus. Paper, $4.00. ISBN: 0-486-20232-1. Reviewed by Inge Hoffman*

Here is a bedside book to be savoured slowly like bonbons for many years.

Dover is to be thanked for making available to the general reader, at a very modest price, a facsimile edition of private notebooks of the great Georges Braque. There are 113 pages of reflections and each page is embroidered by black ink drawings, allegedly spanning all of the painter's active painting life, from the age of 35 to 73. The pages are nearly opaque and sewn, a really superior paperback bargain.

In it the reader will find Braque's preoccupation with the definition of art; but it is hedged throughout by his distrust of 'definition': 'Peindre n'est pas depeindre...' (Painting is not depicting), 'Le conformisme commence avec la definition.' 'Une chose ne peut etre d la fois vraie et vraisemblable' (A thing cannot be true and likely at the same time). 'Le tableau estfini, quand il a efface l'idee ...' (The painting is finished when it has effaced the idea). 'Definir une chose, c'est substituer la d4finition a la chose' (To define a thing is to replace it with its definition).

The translations are the only additions of Dover's unabridged republication. They are prepared by Stanley Applebaum and, as can be seen, they are faithful, if uninspired, but never wooden. They are artfully and visibly stowed out of the way of Braque's original page layout.

The designs (familiar motifs of his paintings), and the differences in handwriting, may give the expert on Braque clues about when these pages were written and whether they are presented in the original sequence. But the 'innocent' reader is given little guidance by the publisher.

And here lies the flaw and of this and, primarily, of the original Maeght facsimile edition. The Dover edition is an unabridged republication of the Maeght publication, noting the discrepancies of dates, but not indicating the publication date of the Maeght portfolio. When Maeght first published these notebooks, the collection had several ambiguities of dates and sequence: There were the Notebooks of 1917-47 (also referred to by Maeght as those of 1916-1947 and 1917-1948), and the Notebooks of 1947-55; the whole was a portfolio, presumably of loose pages. If we compare some of the pages of the two notebooks as reproduced bound in the Dover edition, we wonder whether they are in the sequence in which they were conceived. For example: plates 18 and 47. The two plates appear to be mirror reflections in their identical design and similarity or handwritings; it seems likely that they were written, at most within days of each other, yet they are

*91 Washington Ave., Cambridge, MA 02140, U.S.A. *91 Washington Ave., Cambridge, MA 02140, U.S.A. *91 Washington Ave., Cambridge, MA 02140, U.S.A. *91 Washington Ave., Cambridge, MA 02140, U.S.A. *91 Washington Ave., Cambridge, MA 02140, U.S.A. *91 Washington Ave., Cambridge, MA 02140, U.S.A.

This content downloaded from 62.122.72.20 on Wed, 18 Jun 2014 08:34:19 AMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions