Leonardo

Thought-Forms. Sculptures. Poems by Mirtala Bentov; Sylvia JuranReview by: John E. BowltLeonardo, Vol. 10, No. 2 (Spring, 1977), pp. 167-168Published by: The MIT PressStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/1573732 .

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In building design, the decade produced 'houses of tomorrow', characterized by open design and curved surfaces. Their interiors featured indirect lighting, built-in furniture and new materials such as Formica. Fuller hoped to transform the housing industry by substituting mass production for hand-crafting, but this idea is not yet fully accepted. In order to furnish the 'modern home'. manufacturers competed vigorously for new designs, some of which achieved the elegance of simplicity, along with those that were undeniably ridiculous.

Bush's small book, with its chapters on ships, planes, trains and architecture and with a large number of photographs, reminds one of the impermanence of style and design in the 20th century and of the rapidity of change in public taste. It is now apparent that the public in the U.S.A. is experiencing a phase of nostalgia symbolized by the popularity of the 'cathedral' radio and other artifacts. It is an open question whether this public mood will lead to a second 'classical' period or will turn away from nostalgia to new visions.

Matisse on Art. Jack D. Flam. Phaidon, New York and London, 1973. 199 pp., illus. $12.50, ?4.25. Reviewed by Judith Brovitz**

This is an anthology of 44 'significant statements' by Matisse in chronological order, taken from articles in magazines, essays, introductions to exhibition catalogs, interviews and transcrip- tions of conversations. Matisse's correspondence is not included, although frequently cited in the notes located (most inconveniently) in the back of the book. Each statement is preceded by a commentary that places it in context and summarizes its main points (often a repetition of the obvious). This is in addition to a 20-page Introduction on the development of Matisse's painting in its art-historical context.

Introductory remarks by interviewers and critics have been deleted or paraphrased by Flam; in the original they might have added much to the understanding of Matisse's response. Flam's translations are, as he notes, intended to sound like translations. Yet just a glance at the title page fills one with certain misgivings: 'II faut regarder toute la vie avec des yeux d'enfants' (1953) has become 'Looking at Life with the Eyes of a Child'-hardly the same thing. A biography of Matisse, instead of a simple year-by- year outline, is in an awkward narrative form. I regret the omission of a thematic index (an index on proper names and works by Matisse is included) and of color plates. However, in spite of the book's awkward format, redundant material and certain omissions, Flam, in gathering together the more important of Matisse's writings on art for the first time in English, definitely fills a need for the documentation and understanding of this artist and writer.

Thought-Forms. Sculptures. Poems. Mirtala Bentov. Trans. by Sylvia Juran. Branden Press, Boston, Mass., 1975. 118pp. $15.00. Reviewed by John E. Bowlt$

This is an unusual book in that it is by one of those rare artists who possess both literary and visual perception. Bentov expresses this pleasing duality not simply in her recourse to poetry, on the one hand, and to sculpture, on the other (the pieces here date from 1965-75), but also in her narrative and philosophical integration of the two disciplines. True, the visual element is dominant in the poetry itself and the melodic and rhythmic function of the original Russian has, inevitably, been lost in the translation. Even so, Bentov's manipulation of words is clearly a very distinctive and sensitive one, as, for example, in her use of verbal 'montage' to transmit a sculptural experience of reality. The result is a series of 'reliefs' confirming, as it were, the thought expressed in 'A straight line-how boring,/yet it beckons forward./While a circle-leads on/safely in secure orbit'. It would not be an exaggeration to state that these poems,

**Dept. of Fine Arts, University of Rochester, River Campus

In building design, the decade produced 'houses of tomorrow', characterized by open design and curved surfaces. Their interiors featured indirect lighting, built-in furniture and new materials such as Formica. Fuller hoped to transform the housing industry by substituting mass production for hand-crafting, but this idea is not yet fully accepted. In order to furnish the 'modern home'. manufacturers competed vigorously for new designs, some of which achieved the elegance of simplicity, along with those that were undeniably ridiculous.

Bush's small book, with its chapters on ships, planes, trains and architecture and with a large number of photographs, reminds one of the impermanence of style and design in the 20th century and of the rapidity of change in public taste. It is now apparent that the public in the U.S.A. is experiencing a phase of nostalgia symbolized by the popularity of the 'cathedral' radio and other artifacts. It is an open question whether this public mood will lead to a second 'classical' period or will turn away from nostalgia to new visions.

Matisse on Art. Jack D. Flam. Phaidon, New York and London, 1973. 199 pp., illus. $12.50, ?4.25. Reviewed by Judith Brovitz**

This is an anthology of 44 'significant statements' by Matisse in chronological order, taken from articles in magazines, essays, introductions to exhibition catalogs, interviews and transcrip- tions of conversations. Matisse's correspondence is not included, although frequently cited in the notes located (most inconveniently) in the back of the book. Each statement is preceded by a commentary that places it in context and summarizes its main points (often a repetition of the obvious). This is in addition to a 20-page Introduction on the development of Matisse's painting in its art-historical context.

Introductory remarks by interviewers and critics have been deleted or paraphrased by Flam; in the original they might have added much to the understanding of Matisse's response. Flam's translations are, as he notes, intended to sound like translations. Yet just a glance at the title page fills one with certain misgivings: 'II faut regarder toute la vie avec des yeux d'enfants' (1953) has become 'Looking at Life with the Eyes of a Child'-hardly the same thing. A biography of Matisse, instead of a simple year-by- year outline, is in an awkward narrative form. I regret the omission of a thematic index (an index on proper names and works by Matisse is included) and of color plates. However, in spite of the book's awkward format, redundant material and certain omissions, Flam, in gathering together the more important of Matisse's writings on art for the first time in English, definitely fills a need for the documentation and understanding of this artist and writer.

Thought-Forms. Sculptures. Poems. Mirtala Bentov. Trans. by Sylvia Juran. Branden Press, Boston, Mass., 1975. 118pp. $15.00. Reviewed by John E. Bowlt$

This is an unusual book in that it is by one of those rare artists who possess both literary and visual perception. Bentov expresses this pleasing duality not simply in her recourse to poetry, on the one hand, and to sculpture, on the other (the pieces here date from 1965-75), but also in her narrative and philosophical integration of the two disciplines. True, the visual element is dominant in the poetry itself and the melodic and rhythmic function of the original Russian has, inevitably, been lost in the translation. Even so, Bentov's manipulation of words is clearly a very distinctive and sensitive one, as, for example, in her use of verbal 'montage' to transmit a sculptural experience of reality. The result is a series of 'reliefs' confirming, as it were, the thought expressed in 'A straight line-how boring,/yet it beckons forward./While a circle-leads on/safely in secure orbit'. It would not be an exaggeration to state that these poems,

**Dept. of Fine Arts, University of Rochester, River Campus

In building design, the decade produced 'houses of tomorrow', characterized by open design and curved surfaces. Their interiors featured indirect lighting, built-in furniture and new materials such as Formica. Fuller hoped to transform the housing industry by substituting mass production for hand-crafting, but this idea is not yet fully accepted. In order to furnish the 'modern home'. manufacturers competed vigorously for new designs, some of which achieved the elegance of simplicity, along with those that were undeniably ridiculous.

Bush's small book, with its chapters on ships, planes, trains and architecture and with a large number of photographs, reminds one of the impermanence of style and design in the 20th century and of the rapidity of change in public taste. It is now apparent that the public in the U.S.A. is experiencing a phase of nostalgia symbolized by the popularity of the 'cathedral' radio and other artifacts. It is an open question whether this public mood will lead to a second 'classical' period or will turn away from nostalgia to new visions.

Matisse on Art. Jack D. Flam. Phaidon, New York and London, 1973. 199 pp., illus. $12.50, ?4.25. Reviewed by Judith Brovitz**

This is an anthology of 44 'significant statements' by Matisse in chronological order, taken from articles in magazines, essays, introductions to exhibition catalogs, interviews and transcrip- tions of conversations. Matisse's correspondence is not included, although frequently cited in the notes located (most inconveniently) in the back of the book. Each statement is preceded by a commentary that places it in context and summarizes its main points (often a repetition of the obvious). This is in addition to a 20-page Introduction on the development of Matisse's painting in its art-historical context.

Introductory remarks by interviewers and critics have been deleted or paraphrased by Flam; in the original they might have added much to the understanding of Matisse's response. Flam's translations are, as he notes, intended to sound like translations. Yet just a glance at the title page fills one with certain misgivings: 'II faut regarder toute la vie avec des yeux d'enfants' (1953) has become 'Looking at Life with the Eyes of a Child'-hardly the same thing. A biography of Matisse, instead of a simple year-by- year outline, is in an awkward narrative form. I regret the omission of a thematic index (an index on proper names and works by Matisse is included) and of color plates. However, in spite of the book's awkward format, redundant material and certain omissions, Flam, in gathering together the more important of Matisse's writings on art for the first time in English, definitely fills a need for the documentation and understanding of this artist and writer.

Thought-Forms. Sculptures. Poems. Mirtala Bentov. Trans. by Sylvia Juran. Branden Press, Boston, Mass., 1975. 118pp. $15.00. Reviewed by John E. Bowlt$

This is an unusual book in that it is by one of those rare artists who possess both literary and visual perception. Bentov expresses this pleasing duality not simply in her recourse to poetry, on the one hand, and to sculpture, on the other (the pieces here date from 1965-75), but also in her narrative and philosophical integration of the two disciplines. True, the visual element is dominant in the poetry itself and the melodic and rhythmic function of the original Russian has, inevitably, been lost in the translation. Even so, Bentov's manipulation of words is clearly a very distinctive and sensitive one, as, for example, in her use of verbal 'montage' to transmit a sculptural experience of reality. The result is a series of 'reliefs' confirming, as it were, the thought expressed in 'A straight line-how boring,/yet it beckons forward./While a circle-leads on/safely in secure orbit'. It would not be an exaggeration to state that these poems,

**Dept. of Fine Arts, University of Rochester, River Campus

In building design, the decade produced 'houses of tomorrow', characterized by open design and curved surfaces. Their interiors featured indirect lighting, built-in furniture and new materials such as Formica. Fuller hoped to transform the housing industry by substituting mass production for hand-crafting, but this idea is not yet fully accepted. In order to furnish the 'modern home'. manufacturers competed vigorously for new designs, some of which achieved the elegance of simplicity, along with those that were undeniably ridiculous.

Bush's small book, with its chapters on ships, planes, trains and architecture and with a large number of photographs, reminds one of the impermanence of style and design in the 20th century and of the rapidity of change in public taste. It is now apparent that the public in the U.S.A. is experiencing a phase of nostalgia symbolized by the popularity of the 'cathedral' radio and other artifacts. It is an open question whether this public mood will lead to a second 'classical' period or will turn away from nostalgia to new visions.

Matisse on Art. Jack D. Flam. Phaidon, New York and London, 1973. 199 pp., illus. $12.50, ?4.25. Reviewed by Judith Brovitz**

This is an anthology of 44 'significant statements' by Matisse in chronological order, taken from articles in magazines, essays, introductions to exhibition catalogs, interviews and transcrip- tions of conversations. Matisse's correspondence is not included, although frequently cited in the notes located (most inconveniently) in the back of the book. Each statement is preceded by a commentary that places it in context and summarizes its main points (often a repetition of the obvious). This is in addition to a 20-page Introduction on the development of Matisse's painting in its art-historical context.

Introductory remarks by interviewers and critics have been deleted or paraphrased by Flam; in the original they might have added much to the understanding of Matisse's response. Flam's translations are, as he notes, intended to sound like translations. Yet just a glance at the title page fills one with certain misgivings: 'II faut regarder toute la vie avec des yeux d'enfants' (1953) has become 'Looking at Life with the Eyes of a Child'-hardly the same thing. A biography of Matisse, instead of a simple year-by- year outline, is in an awkward narrative form. I regret the omission of a thematic index (an index on proper names and works by Matisse is included) and of color plates. However, in spite of the book's awkward format, redundant material and certain omissions, Flam, in gathering together the more important of Matisse's writings on art for the first time in English, definitely fills a need for the documentation and understanding of this artist and writer.

Thought-Forms. Sculptures. Poems. Mirtala Bentov. Trans. by Sylvia Juran. Branden Press, Boston, Mass., 1975. 118pp. $15.00. Reviewed by John E. Bowlt$

This is an unusual book in that it is by one of those rare artists who possess both literary and visual perception. Bentov expresses this pleasing duality not simply in her recourse to poetry, on the one hand, and to sculpture, on the other (the pieces here date from 1965-75), but also in her narrative and philosophical integration of the two disciplines. True, the visual element is dominant in the poetry itself and the melodic and rhythmic function of the original Russian has, inevitably, been lost in the translation. Even so, Bentov's manipulation of words is clearly a very distinctive and sensitive one, as, for example, in her use of verbal 'montage' to transmit a sculptural experience of reality. The result is a series of 'reliefs' confirming, as it were, the thought expressed in 'A straight line-how boring,/yet it beckons forward./While a circle-leads on/safely in secure orbit'. It would not be an exaggeration to state that these poems,

**Dept. of Fine Arts, University of Rochester, River Campus

recall when he began working with Alex Raymond on Flash Gordon. On page 82 there is a virtual repeat of the same befuddlement. But such oversights are trivial flaws in an otherwise superior book. Moreover, while I have some reservations about Goulart's assessments of graphic style, judgments that seem to me both commonplace and unreliable, I cannot imagine that any of them would mislead any of his readers.

I am sure that many who are otherwise interested in the book will turn away when they see how sparsely illustrated it is. After all, it can be quite annoying to read about a brilliant style that you are not allowed to see, especially if the artist is obscure or the point being made is somewhat contentious. Here, at least, I can come to the author's and the publisher's defense, for I have also just completed work on a book that concentrates on cartoons and comic strips. Having a fair amount of experience in securing illustrative material for books and articles on the fine arts, I was stunned by the comparatively exorbitant reprint fees charged by most publications and syndicates. The average cost per illustration came to about $150!

You can read Goulart's book with another, The World Encyclopedia of Comics, edited by Maurice Horn, at your side. The book is expensive, but it is profusely illustrated (850 illustrations, uneven in quality but some in impressively accurate color) and it is comprehensive, containing an enormous amount of factual material on artists, writers, features, media and comic art in general (over 1200 entries) as well as an historical introduction, a critical analysis, chronology, bibliography and glossary. The entries sometimes seem eccentric and their cross- referencing may appear inconsistent. For an English-speaking enthusiast of the comics, this fat tome is a mandatory purchase.

The Streamlined Decade. Donald J. Bush. Braziller, New York, 1975. 215 pp., illus. Paper, $7.95. Reviewed by Robert F. Erickson*

To anyone who was a schoolboy in the U.S.A. in the 1930's and spent many hours making models of Sikorsky's flying boats, the Zephyrs and streamlined automobiles, Bush's book is vividly evocative of an age of style and design that now seems quite ancient. In some ways, we have come almost full circle in our appreciations and our demands in vehicles, appliances and housing; for example, manufacturers no longer produce vacuum cleaners in the shape of torpedoes and the modern ambulance is now a functional box on wheels.

The author, who is a teacher of design and a research engineer, has adopted the thesis that streamlining was a response to the problems of life in the Depression era in the U.S.A. and that it was a reaction to the freer life-style of the 1920's. In that time, there occurred the archaic period of design, to be followed by the classical of the 1930's; without elaborating, Bush suggests mannerist and baroque as labels for the decades after World War II, a suggestion that is not very tenable for obvious reasons.

What exactly was streamlining? If one relates this concept of design to its scientific fundamentals, it is seen as based in hydro- and aerodynamics, and the efforts to find the shapes of bodies that will pass most easily through a fluid medium. In the determination of maximum efficiency of both penetration and motion, experimenters have been guided by the shapes of fish and birds and in the late 19th century began to use wind tunnels for observation. From this work, there came the dirigible, the submarine and the streamlined train. In the latter case, it was possible to make exact findings of the energy efficiency of such notable trains of the 1930's as the City of Salina.

It is not surprising that designers of the era should have turned their attention to automobiles, which from the middle 1920's were no longer considered to be only for the rich. Norman Bel Geddes, R. Buckminster Fuller and others designed cars with a teardrop shape and Chrysler's Airflow (1934) was mass- produced. However, the latter automobile suffered from the shrinking market of the late 1930's and was probably too advanced for public taste.

recall when he began working with Alex Raymond on Flash Gordon. On page 82 there is a virtual repeat of the same befuddlement. But such oversights are trivial flaws in an otherwise superior book. Moreover, while I have some reservations about Goulart's assessments of graphic style, judgments that seem to me both commonplace and unreliable, I cannot imagine that any of them would mislead any of his readers.

I am sure that many who are otherwise interested in the book will turn away when they see how sparsely illustrated it is. After all, it can be quite annoying to read about a brilliant style that you are not allowed to see, especially if the artist is obscure or the point being made is somewhat contentious. Here, at least, I can come to the author's and the publisher's defense, for I have also just completed work on a book that concentrates on cartoons and comic strips. Having a fair amount of experience in securing illustrative material for books and articles on the fine arts, I was stunned by the comparatively exorbitant reprint fees charged by most publications and syndicates. The average cost per illustration came to about $150!

You can read Goulart's book with another, The World Encyclopedia of Comics, edited by Maurice Horn, at your side. The book is expensive, but it is profusely illustrated (850 illustrations, uneven in quality but some in impressively accurate color) and it is comprehensive, containing an enormous amount of factual material on artists, writers, features, media and comic art in general (over 1200 entries) as well as an historical introduction, a critical analysis, chronology, bibliography and glossary. The entries sometimes seem eccentric and their cross- referencing may appear inconsistent. For an English-speaking enthusiast of the comics, this fat tome is a mandatory purchase.

The Streamlined Decade. Donald J. Bush. Braziller, New York, 1975. 215 pp., illus. Paper, $7.95. Reviewed by Robert F. Erickson*

To anyone who was a schoolboy in the U.S.A. in the 1930's and spent many hours making models of Sikorsky's flying boats, the Zephyrs and streamlined automobiles, Bush's book is vividly evocative of an age of style and design that now seems quite ancient. In some ways, we have come almost full circle in our appreciations and our demands in vehicles, appliances and housing; for example, manufacturers no longer produce vacuum cleaners in the shape of torpedoes and the modern ambulance is now a functional box on wheels.

The author, who is a teacher of design and a research engineer, has adopted the thesis that streamlining was a response to the problems of life in the Depression era in the U.S.A. and that it was a reaction to the freer life-style of the 1920's. In that time, there occurred the archaic period of design, to be followed by the classical of the 1930's; without elaborating, Bush suggests mannerist and baroque as labels for the decades after World War II, a suggestion that is not very tenable for obvious reasons.

What exactly was streamlining? If one relates this concept of design to its scientific fundamentals, it is seen as based in hydro- and aerodynamics, and the efforts to find the shapes of bodies that will pass most easily through a fluid medium. In the determination of maximum efficiency of both penetration and motion, experimenters have been guided by the shapes of fish and birds and in the late 19th century began to use wind tunnels for observation. From this work, there came the dirigible, the submarine and the streamlined train. In the latter case, it was possible to make exact findings of the energy efficiency of such notable trains of the 1930's as the City of Salina.

It is not surprising that designers of the era should have turned their attention to automobiles, which from the middle 1920's were no longer considered to be only for the rich. Norman Bel Geddes, R. Buckminster Fuller and others designed cars with a teardrop shape and Chrysler's Airflow (1934) was mass- produced. However, the latter automobile suffered from the shrinking market of the late 1930's and was probably too advanced for public taste.

recall when he began working with Alex Raymond on Flash Gordon. On page 82 there is a virtual repeat of the same befuddlement. But such oversights are trivial flaws in an otherwise superior book. Moreover, while I have some reservations about Goulart's assessments of graphic style, judgments that seem to me both commonplace and unreliable, I cannot imagine that any of them would mislead any of his readers.

I am sure that many who are otherwise interested in the book will turn away when they see how sparsely illustrated it is. After all, it can be quite annoying to read about a brilliant style that you are not allowed to see, especially if the artist is obscure or the point being made is somewhat contentious. Here, at least, I can come to the author's and the publisher's defense, for I have also just completed work on a book that concentrates on cartoons and comic strips. Having a fair amount of experience in securing illustrative material for books and articles on the fine arts, I was stunned by the comparatively exorbitant reprint fees charged by most publications and syndicates. The average cost per illustration came to about $150!

You can read Goulart's book with another, The World Encyclopedia of Comics, edited by Maurice Horn, at your side. The book is expensive, but it is profusely illustrated (850 illustrations, uneven in quality but some in impressively accurate color) and it is comprehensive, containing an enormous amount of factual material on artists, writers, features, media and comic art in general (over 1200 entries) as well as an historical introduction, a critical analysis, chronology, bibliography and glossary. The entries sometimes seem eccentric and their cross- referencing may appear inconsistent. For an English-speaking enthusiast of the comics, this fat tome is a mandatory purchase.

The Streamlined Decade. Donald J. Bush. Braziller, New York, 1975. 215 pp., illus. Paper, $7.95. Reviewed by Robert F. Erickson*

To anyone who was a schoolboy in the U.S.A. in the 1930's and spent many hours making models of Sikorsky's flying boats, the Zephyrs and streamlined automobiles, Bush's book is vividly evocative of an age of style and design that now seems quite ancient. In some ways, we have come almost full circle in our appreciations and our demands in vehicles, appliances and housing; for example, manufacturers no longer produce vacuum cleaners in the shape of torpedoes and the modern ambulance is now a functional box on wheels.

The author, who is a teacher of design and a research engineer, has adopted the thesis that streamlining was a response to the problems of life in the Depression era in the U.S.A. and that it was a reaction to the freer life-style of the 1920's. In that time, there occurred the archaic period of design, to be followed by the classical of the 1930's; without elaborating, Bush suggests mannerist and baroque as labels for the decades after World War II, a suggestion that is not very tenable for obvious reasons.

What exactly was streamlining? If one relates this concept of design to its scientific fundamentals, it is seen as based in hydro- and aerodynamics, and the efforts to find the shapes of bodies that will pass most easily through a fluid medium. In the determination of maximum efficiency of both penetration and motion, experimenters have been guided by the shapes of fish and birds and in the late 19th century began to use wind tunnels for observation. From this work, there came the dirigible, the submarine and the streamlined train. In the latter case, it was possible to make exact findings of the energy efficiency of such notable trains of the 1930's as the City of Salina.

It is not surprising that designers of the era should have turned their attention to automobiles, which from the middle 1920's were no longer considered to be only for the rich. Norman Bel Geddes, R. Buckminster Fuller and others designed cars with a teardrop shape and Chrysler's Airflow (1934) was mass- produced. However, the latter automobile suffered from the shrinking market of the late 1930's and was probably too advanced for public taste.

recall when he began working with Alex Raymond on Flash Gordon. On page 82 there is a virtual repeat of the same befuddlement. But such oversights are trivial flaws in an otherwise superior book. Moreover, while I have some reservations about Goulart's assessments of graphic style, judgments that seem to me both commonplace and unreliable, I cannot imagine that any of them would mislead any of his readers.

I am sure that many who are otherwise interested in the book will turn away when they see how sparsely illustrated it is. After all, it can be quite annoying to read about a brilliant style that you are not allowed to see, especially if the artist is obscure or the point being made is somewhat contentious. Here, at least, I can come to the author's and the publisher's defense, for I have also just completed work on a book that concentrates on cartoons and comic strips. Having a fair amount of experience in securing illustrative material for books and articles on the fine arts, I was stunned by the comparatively exorbitant reprint fees charged by most publications and syndicates. The average cost per illustration came to about $150!

You can read Goulart's book with another, The World Encyclopedia of Comics, edited by Maurice Horn, at your side. The book is expensive, but it is profusely illustrated (850 illustrations, uneven in quality but some in impressively accurate color) and it is comprehensive, containing an enormous amount of factual material on artists, writers, features, media and comic art in general (over 1200 entries) as well as an historical introduction, a critical analysis, chronology, bibliography and glossary. The entries sometimes seem eccentric and their cross- referencing may appear inconsistent. For an English-speaking enthusiast of the comics, this fat tome is a mandatory purchase.

The Streamlined Decade. Donald J. Bush. Braziller, New York, 1975. 215 pp., illus. Paper, $7.95. Reviewed by Robert F. Erickson*

To anyone who was a schoolboy in the U.S.A. in the 1930's and spent many hours making models of Sikorsky's flying boats, the Zephyrs and streamlined automobiles, Bush's book is vividly evocative of an age of style and design that now seems quite ancient. In some ways, we have come almost full circle in our appreciations and our demands in vehicles, appliances and housing; for example, manufacturers no longer produce vacuum cleaners in the shape of torpedoes and the modern ambulance is now a functional box on wheels.

The author, who is a teacher of design and a research engineer, has adopted the thesis that streamlining was a response to the problems of life in the Depression era in the U.S.A. and that it was a reaction to the freer life-style of the 1920's. In that time, there occurred the archaic period of design, to be followed by the classical of the 1930's; without elaborating, Bush suggests mannerist and baroque as labels for the decades after World War II, a suggestion that is not very tenable for obvious reasons.

What exactly was streamlining? If one relates this concept of design to its scientific fundamentals, it is seen as based in hydro- and aerodynamics, and the efforts to find the shapes of bodies that will pass most easily through a fluid medium. In the determination of maximum efficiency of both penetration and motion, experimenters have been guided by the shapes of fish and birds and in the late 19th century began to use wind tunnels for observation. From this work, there came the dirigible, the submarine and the streamlined train. In the latter case, it was possible to make exact findings of the energy efficiency of such notable trains of the 1930's as the City of Salina.

It is not surprising that designers of the era should have turned their attention to automobiles, which from the middle 1920's were no longer considered to be only for the rich. Norman Bel Geddes, R. Buckminster Fuller and others designed cars with a teardrop shape and Chrysler's Airflow (1934) was mass- produced. However, the latter automobile suffered from the shrinking market of the late 1930's and was probably too advanced for public taste.

*Dept. of Historical Studies, Social Sciences Division, Southern Illinois University, Edwardsville, Il 62025, U.S.A. *Dept. of Historical Studies, Social Sciences Division, Southern Illinois University, Edwardsville, Il 62025, U.S.A. *Dept. of Historical Studies, Social Sciences Division, Southern Illinois University, Edwardsville, Il 62025, U.S.A. *Dept. of Historical Studies, Social Sciences Division, Southern Illinois University, Edwardsville, Il 62025, U.S.A.

Station, Rochester, NY 14627, U.S.A.

tDept. of Slavic Languages, Box 7217, University of Texas, Austin, TX 78712, U.S.A.

Station, Rochester, NY 14627, U.S.A.

tDept. of Slavic Languages, Box 7217, University of Texas, Austin, TX 78712, U.S.A.

Station, Rochester, NY 14627, U.S.A.

tDept. of Slavic Languages, Box 7217, University of Texas, Austin, TX 78712, U.S.A.

Station, Rochester, NY 14627, U.S.A.

tDept. of Slavic Languages, Box 7217, University of Texas, Austin, TX 78712, U.S.A.

Books Books Books Books 167 167 167 167

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168 168 168 Books Books Books

so tactile in their presence, serve as illustrations to the sculptures and not vice versa, although, of course, both media are intended to be mutually complementary.

In endeavoring to combine literary and artistic media, Bentov maintains the well-known 'synthetic' traditions of the Russian and Ukrainian Modernists and, like them, is interested primarily not in form but in content and in its relevance to the human and spiritual condition. Her concern with the theme of escape ('illusory desires', 'freedom from matter', 'the radiant fire-bird') is deeply autobiographical and seems to allude to her experiences of a forced-labor camp, darkly remembered. Essentially, however, Bentov's objective is not the evocation of a cruel, distant childhood but the anticipation of some luminous ideal. Just as her sculptures 'end' often with an ascendant or forward impulse (stairs, raised hands, etc.), so her poems end on a note of presentiment. It is the kind of optimism, of imminent flight that we identify with Bentov's Ukrainian colleagues, Archipenko and Zadkine (she studied with Zadkine in Paris).

Sylvia Juran, who translated the poems from the original Russian texts (some published in 1972), has succeeded in rendering the essential meaning of the poems, although, of course, she cannot reproduce the economy of image and subtlety of orchestration germane to the Russian.

Arthur Dove. Barbara Haskell. New York Graphic Society, Boston, Mass., 1974. 136 pp., illus. ?11.50. Reviewed by Naomi Boretz*

This is a well-designed and carefully-organized exhibition catalog, with good color reproductions, accompanied by a thoroughly researched and documented text. The author had access to Dove's unpublished writings and consulted, as well, with Dove's son and others who knew him well. She has made a real effort to be accurate and has done an excellent job of placing Dove's early work in its proper chronological context. That task was rather more difficult than it might appear at first glance. With rare exceptions, Dove did not date the work he did between 1911-1920. To complicate matters further, it seems that his dealer, Steiglitz, often changed the titles of paintings after they had been delivered to the gallery.

A group of pastels (1911), originally entitled 'The Ten Commandments' and exhibited at Steiglitz's '291' gallery in 1912, were shown again in 1916 as part of a 'Nature Symbolized' series; some of them later acquired individual titles. The significance of these works-the fact that they, as well as Dove's 1910 'Abstractions 1-6' (1910), were the first nonre- presentational works to be produced in the U.S.A. before the Armory Show (1913)-makes it particularly disappointing that they cannot be identified correctly, so that they may take their rightful place in the early 'modernist' movement. That Dove was an innovator cannot be denied. Steiglitz had said of Dove's first exhibition: 'So the pictures went up, and, of course they were over the heads of the people ... They were beautiful, they were not reminiscent of any one else.'

Although the Armory Show in New York City had shocked the public, for artists the shock was rather that of sudden recognition. It seemed impossible for them to avoid the impact of the European Moderns. Interestingly, Dove had been thinking in a 'modernist' vein since 1910, apparently without any knowledge of similar innovations in that year by Kandinsky and Delaunay. By 1913, when others were turning to 'abstraction', Dove spoke of giving up working with 'pure form' and 'going back to nature'. But his vision remained amazingly consistent and his earliest 'Abstractions' still have much in common with his later work. Actually, in a letter he wrote to Arthur Jerome Eddy in 1912, he defined his attitude toward his art that was to hold true throughout his life: 'One of these principles [in all good art] which seemed the most evident was the choice of the simple motif... a few forms and a few colors sufficed for the creation of an object .... I gave up trying to express an idea by stating innumerable little facts, the statement of facts having no more to do with the art of painting than statistics with literature ....'

For reasons difficult to assess, Dove never achieved a popular

so tactile in their presence, serve as illustrations to the sculptures and not vice versa, although, of course, both media are intended to be mutually complementary.

In endeavoring to combine literary and artistic media, Bentov maintains the well-known 'synthetic' traditions of the Russian and Ukrainian Modernists and, like them, is interested primarily not in form but in content and in its relevance to the human and spiritual condition. Her concern with the theme of escape ('illusory desires', 'freedom from matter', 'the radiant fire-bird') is deeply autobiographical and seems to allude to her experiences of a forced-labor camp, darkly remembered. Essentially, however, Bentov's objective is not the evocation of a cruel, distant childhood but the anticipation of some luminous ideal. Just as her sculptures 'end' often with an ascendant or forward impulse (stairs, raised hands, etc.), so her poems end on a note of presentiment. It is the kind of optimism, of imminent flight that we identify with Bentov's Ukrainian colleagues, Archipenko and Zadkine (she studied with Zadkine in Paris).

Sylvia Juran, who translated the poems from the original Russian texts (some published in 1972), has succeeded in rendering the essential meaning of the poems, although, of course, she cannot reproduce the economy of image and subtlety of orchestration germane to the Russian.

Arthur Dove. Barbara Haskell. New York Graphic Society, Boston, Mass., 1974. 136 pp., illus. ?11.50. Reviewed by Naomi Boretz*

This is a well-designed and carefully-organized exhibition catalog, with good color reproductions, accompanied by a thoroughly researched and documented text. The author had access to Dove's unpublished writings and consulted, as well, with Dove's son and others who knew him well. She has made a real effort to be accurate and has done an excellent job of placing Dove's early work in its proper chronological context. That task was rather more difficult than it might appear at first glance. With rare exceptions, Dove did not date the work he did between 1911-1920. To complicate matters further, it seems that his dealer, Steiglitz, often changed the titles of paintings after they had been delivered to the gallery.

A group of pastels (1911), originally entitled 'The Ten Commandments' and exhibited at Steiglitz's '291' gallery in 1912, were shown again in 1916 as part of a 'Nature Symbolized' series; some of them later acquired individual titles. The significance of these works-the fact that they, as well as Dove's 1910 'Abstractions 1-6' (1910), were the first nonre- presentational works to be produced in the U.S.A. before the Armory Show (1913)-makes it particularly disappointing that they cannot be identified correctly, so that they may take their rightful place in the early 'modernist' movement. That Dove was an innovator cannot be denied. Steiglitz had said of Dove's first exhibition: 'So the pictures went up, and, of course they were over the heads of the people ... They were beautiful, they were not reminiscent of any one else.'

Although the Armory Show in New York City had shocked the public, for artists the shock was rather that of sudden recognition. It seemed impossible for them to avoid the impact of the European Moderns. Interestingly, Dove had been thinking in a 'modernist' vein since 1910, apparently without any knowledge of similar innovations in that year by Kandinsky and Delaunay. By 1913, when others were turning to 'abstraction', Dove spoke of giving up working with 'pure form' and 'going back to nature'. But his vision remained amazingly consistent and his earliest 'Abstractions' still have much in common with his later work. Actually, in a letter he wrote to Arthur Jerome Eddy in 1912, he defined his attitude toward his art that was to hold true throughout his life: 'One of these principles [in all good art] which seemed the most evident was the choice of the simple motif... a few forms and a few colors sufficed for the creation of an object .... I gave up trying to express an idea by stating innumerable little facts, the statement of facts having no more to do with the art of painting than statistics with literature ....'

For reasons difficult to assess, Dove never achieved a popular

so tactile in their presence, serve as illustrations to the sculptures and not vice versa, although, of course, both media are intended to be mutually complementary.

In endeavoring to combine literary and artistic media, Bentov maintains the well-known 'synthetic' traditions of the Russian and Ukrainian Modernists and, like them, is interested primarily not in form but in content and in its relevance to the human and spiritual condition. Her concern with the theme of escape ('illusory desires', 'freedom from matter', 'the radiant fire-bird') is deeply autobiographical and seems to allude to her experiences of a forced-labor camp, darkly remembered. Essentially, however, Bentov's objective is not the evocation of a cruel, distant childhood but the anticipation of some luminous ideal. Just as her sculptures 'end' often with an ascendant or forward impulse (stairs, raised hands, etc.), so her poems end on a note of presentiment. It is the kind of optimism, of imminent flight that we identify with Bentov's Ukrainian colleagues, Archipenko and Zadkine (she studied with Zadkine in Paris).

Sylvia Juran, who translated the poems from the original Russian texts (some published in 1972), has succeeded in rendering the essential meaning of the poems, although, of course, she cannot reproduce the economy of image and subtlety of orchestration germane to the Russian.

Arthur Dove. Barbara Haskell. New York Graphic Society, Boston, Mass., 1974. 136 pp., illus. ?11.50. Reviewed by Naomi Boretz*

This is a well-designed and carefully-organized exhibition catalog, with good color reproductions, accompanied by a thoroughly researched and documented text. The author had access to Dove's unpublished writings and consulted, as well, with Dove's son and others who knew him well. She has made a real effort to be accurate and has done an excellent job of placing Dove's early work in its proper chronological context. That task was rather more difficult than it might appear at first glance. With rare exceptions, Dove did not date the work he did between 1911-1920. To complicate matters further, it seems that his dealer, Steiglitz, often changed the titles of paintings after they had been delivered to the gallery.

A group of pastels (1911), originally entitled 'The Ten Commandments' and exhibited at Steiglitz's '291' gallery in 1912, were shown again in 1916 as part of a 'Nature Symbolized' series; some of them later acquired individual titles. The significance of these works-the fact that they, as well as Dove's 1910 'Abstractions 1-6' (1910), were the first nonre- presentational works to be produced in the U.S.A. before the Armory Show (1913)-makes it particularly disappointing that they cannot be identified correctly, so that they may take their rightful place in the early 'modernist' movement. That Dove was an innovator cannot be denied. Steiglitz had said of Dove's first exhibition: 'So the pictures went up, and, of course they were over the heads of the people ... They were beautiful, they were not reminiscent of any one else.'

Although the Armory Show in New York City had shocked the public, for artists the shock was rather that of sudden recognition. It seemed impossible for them to avoid the impact of the European Moderns. Interestingly, Dove had been thinking in a 'modernist' vein since 1910, apparently without any knowledge of similar innovations in that year by Kandinsky and Delaunay. By 1913, when others were turning to 'abstraction', Dove spoke of giving up working with 'pure form' and 'going back to nature'. But his vision remained amazingly consistent and his earliest 'Abstractions' still have much in common with his later work. Actually, in a letter he wrote to Arthur Jerome Eddy in 1912, he defined his attitude toward his art that was to hold true throughout his life: 'One of these principles [in all good art] which seemed the most evident was the choice of the simple motif... a few forms and a few colors sufficed for the creation of an object .... I gave up trying to express an idea by stating innumerable little facts, the statement of facts having no more to do with the art of painting than statistics with literature ....'

For reasons difficult to assess, Dove never achieved a popular success. Other painters associated with the Steiglitz gallery, success. Other painters associated with the Steiglitz gallery, success. Other painters associated with the Steiglitz gallery,

*15 Southern Way, Princeton, NJ 08540, U.S.A. *15 Southern Way, Princeton, NJ 08540, U.S.A. *15 Southern Way, Princeton, NJ 08540, U.S.A.

notably John Marin and Georgia O'Keefe, whose work was also innovative, seemed to appeal to a wider public. Thus, Dove has seldom been accorded the recognition due to him for his significant role in the acceptance of modern art in the U.S.A. This catalog, based on a traveling exhibition organized by the San Francisco Museum of Art, is a substantive addition to the scholarly literature on Dove and the corrected information makes it an indispensable source for researchers. There is a selected bibliography and chronology of personal events and exhibitions.

Masterpieces of Dobell. Masterpieces of Drysdale. Masterpieces of Nolan. Charles Osborne. Each: Thames & Hudson, London, 1975. 24 pp., illus. Paper. 75p. Reviewed by Julie Ewington**

This collection extends, in a most enterprising fashion, the possibilities in art-book publication for the sale of the maximum in full-colour illustration with the minimum of intellectual content. Indeed, the books are actually glorified annotated postcards, 'high-culture' versions of the fold-out variety offered to tourists. As such, the illustrations in these books will be useful teaching aids in Australian classrooms, for which they are so obviously and so cynically intended; no teacher need hesitate to dismember and display a book that costs so little.

However, with the one exception of Nolan's 'Menopause' (1946), these illustrations are available in other Thames and Hudson monographs (James Cleeson's on Dobell, Geoffrey Dutton's on Drysdale, and Colin Maclnnes and Bryan Robertson's on Nolan, all first released in 1961)-more interesting still, so are the texts. The collection under review claims texts by 'an established authority': Charles Osborne is particularly knowledgeable about Australian literature but has never been at the centre of informed debates about Australian visual art. Perhaps this is the explanation for his heavy reliance on the works mentioned above, but it is more difficult to see why no reference was made to this debt.

Unhappily, Osborne's texts seem to be merely paraphrased and abbreviated versions of these monographs. Worse, they can be criticized for a series of inaccuracies attributable to lack of familiarity and to abbreviation. For example, the text accompanying Plate 3 of the Drysdale book incorrectly interprets a quoted statement by Donald Friend about Drysdale's experiences during the years of World War II. Friend refers to time spent in the country town of Albury, not to that spent in Sydney as is implied here. Osborne's version makes nonsense of the Friend quotation, mentioning as it does 'lanky gnarled farmers with their amply-shaped wives in sulkies and gigs', and nonsense of the illustration, supposedly a painting of one of these country women in a hotel bedroom.

Another error of omission occurs on the Plate 6 text of the Dobell book where Osborne claims that in 1938 Dobell returned from Europe to a country 'untouched by twentieth-century movements in modern art'. Gleeson's account [ World Library of Art, 1969, pp. 73-74] is not so sweeping in its generalizations, indicating that while the Australian public was then, as it is now, profoundly conservative in its attitude towards modern art, contemporary European painters had been studied in Australia. In fact, many artists had been painting and showing work that was clearly influenced by post-impressionist and cubist painting for over two decades. And if by 1938 many of them had abandoned the quasi-academic style to which Dobell clung, it was not under the influence of one travelling exhibition of modern European art, seen in that year, as Osborne implies.

Plate 10 by Dobell, which is discussed in detail, is incorrectly titled 'Narrows Beach' (1956) instead of 'Westerly Breeze' (1948), which can easily be ascertained by reference to the illustration itself, where the word Westerly and the date 1948 appear. And so on....

Finally, the text in the three books is quite out-of-date, skimpy on the painters' work in the late 1960's and 1970's and makes no attempt at a re-assessment of their work that must be made in the light of developments in Australian art during the last 15 years. How dreary these books are: potted art history, in the fulsome

notably John Marin and Georgia O'Keefe, whose work was also innovative, seemed to appeal to a wider public. Thus, Dove has seldom been accorded the recognition due to him for his significant role in the acceptance of modern art in the U.S.A. This catalog, based on a traveling exhibition organized by the San Francisco Museum of Art, is a substantive addition to the scholarly literature on Dove and the corrected information makes it an indispensable source for researchers. There is a selected bibliography and chronology of personal events and exhibitions.

Masterpieces of Dobell. Masterpieces of Drysdale. Masterpieces of Nolan. Charles Osborne. Each: Thames & Hudson, London, 1975. 24 pp., illus. Paper. 75p. Reviewed by Julie Ewington**

This collection extends, in a most enterprising fashion, the possibilities in art-book publication for the sale of the maximum in full-colour illustration with the minimum of intellectual content. Indeed, the books are actually glorified annotated postcards, 'high-culture' versions of the fold-out variety offered to tourists. As such, the illustrations in these books will be useful teaching aids in Australian classrooms, for which they are so obviously and so cynically intended; no teacher need hesitate to dismember and display a book that costs so little.

However, with the one exception of Nolan's 'Menopause' (1946), these illustrations are available in other Thames and Hudson monographs (James Cleeson's on Dobell, Geoffrey Dutton's on Drysdale, and Colin Maclnnes and Bryan Robertson's on Nolan, all first released in 1961)-more interesting still, so are the texts. The collection under review claims texts by 'an established authority': Charles Osborne is particularly knowledgeable about Australian literature but has never been at the centre of informed debates about Australian visual art. Perhaps this is the explanation for his heavy reliance on the works mentioned above, but it is more difficult to see why no reference was made to this debt.

Unhappily, Osborne's texts seem to be merely paraphrased and abbreviated versions of these monographs. Worse, they can be criticized for a series of inaccuracies attributable to lack of familiarity and to abbreviation. For example, the text accompanying Plate 3 of the Drysdale book incorrectly interprets a quoted statement by Donald Friend about Drysdale's experiences during the years of World War II. Friend refers to time spent in the country town of Albury, not to that spent in Sydney as is implied here. Osborne's version makes nonsense of the Friend quotation, mentioning as it does 'lanky gnarled farmers with their amply-shaped wives in sulkies and gigs', and nonsense of the illustration, supposedly a painting of one of these country women in a hotel bedroom.

Another error of omission occurs on the Plate 6 text of the Dobell book where Osborne claims that in 1938 Dobell returned from Europe to a country 'untouched by twentieth-century movements in modern art'. Gleeson's account [ World Library of Art, 1969, pp. 73-74] is not so sweeping in its generalizations, indicating that while the Australian public was then, as it is now, profoundly conservative in its attitude towards modern art, contemporary European painters had been studied in Australia. In fact, many artists had been painting and showing work that was clearly influenced by post-impressionist and cubist painting for over two decades. And if by 1938 many of them had abandoned the quasi-academic style to which Dobell clung, it was not under the influence of one travelling exhibition of modern European art, seen in that year, as Osborne implies.

Plate 10 by Dobell, which is discussed in detail, is incorrectly titled 'Narrows Beach' (1956) instead of 'Westerly Breeze' (1948), which can easily be ascertained by reference to the illustration itself, where the word Westerly and the date 1948 appear. And so on....

Finally, the text in the three books is quite out-of-date, skimpy on the painters' work in the late 1960's and 1970's and makes no attempt at a re-assessment of their work that must be made in the light of developments in Australian art during the last 15 years. How dreary these books are: potted art history, in the fulsome

notably John Marin and Georgia O'Keefe, whose work was also innovative, seemed to appeal to a wider public. Thus, Dove has seldom been accorded the recognition due to him for his significant role in the acceptance of modern art in the U.S.A. This catalog, based on a traveling exhibition organized by the San Francisco Museum of Art, is a substantive addition to the scholarly literature on Dove and the corrected information makes it an indispensable source for researchers. There is a selected bibliography and chronology of personal events and exhibitions.

Masterpieces of Dobell. Masterpieces of Drysdale. Masterpieces of Nolan. Charles Osborne. Each: Thames & Hudson, London, 1975. 24 pp., illus. Paper. 75p. Reviewed by Julie Ewington**

This collection extends, in a most enterprising fashion, the possibilities in art-book publication for the sale of the maximum in full-colour illustration with the minimum of intellectual content. Indeed, the books are actually glorified annotated postcards, 'high-culture' versions of the fold-out variety offered to tourists. As such, the illustrations in these books will be useful teaching aids in Australian classrooms, for which they are so obviously and so cynically intended; no teacher need hesitate to dismember and display a book that costs so little.

However, with the one exception of Nolan's 'Menopause' (1946), these illustrations are available in other Thames and Hudson monographs (James Cleeson's on Dobell, Geoffrey Dutton's on Drysdale, and Colin Maclnnes and Bryan Robertson's on Nolan, all first released in 1961)-more interesting still, so are the texts. The collection under review claims texts by 'an established authority': Charles Osborne is particularly knowledgeable about Australian literature but has never been at the centre of informed debates about Australian visual art. Perhaps this is the explanation for his heavy reliance on the works mentioned above, but it is more difficult to see why no reference was made to this debt.

Unhappily, Osborne's texts seem to be merely paraphrased and abbreviated versions of these monographs. Worse, they can be criticized for a series of inaccuracies attributable to lack of familiarity and to abbreviation. For example, the text accompanying Plate 3 of the Drysdale book incorrectly interprets a quoted statement by Donald Friend about Drysdale's experiences during the years of World War II. Friend refers to time spent in the country town of Albury, not to that spent in Sydney as is implied here. Osborne's version makes nonsense of the Friend quotation, mentioning as it does 'lanky gnarled farmers with their amply-shaped wives in sulkies and gigs', and nonsense of the illustration, supposedly a painting of one of these country women in a hotel bedroom.

Another error of omission occurs on the Plate 6 text of the Dobell book where Osborne claims that in 1938 Dobell returned from Europe to a country 'untouched by twentieth-century movements in modern art'. Gleeson's account [ World Library of Art, 1969, pp. 73-74] is not so sweeping in its generalizations, indicating that while the Australian public was then, as it is now, profoundly conservative in its attitude towards modern art, contemporary European painters had been studied in Australia. In fact, many artists had been painting and showing work that was clearly influenced by post-impressionist and cubist painting for over two decades. And if by 1938 many of them had abandoned the quasi-academic style to which Dobell clung, it was not under the influence of one travelling exhibition of modern European art, seen in that year, as Osborne implies.

Plate 10 by Dobell, which is discussed in detail, is incorrectly titled 'Narrows Beach' (1956) instead of 'Westerly Breeze' (1948), which can easily be ascertained by reference to the illustration itself, where the word Westerly and the date 1948 appear. And so on....

Finally, the text in the three books is quite out-of-date, skimpy on the painters' work in the late 1960's and 1970's and makes no attempt at a re-assessment of their work that must be made in the light of developments in Australian art during the last 15 years. How dreary these books are: potted art history, in the fulsome

*School of Humanities, The Flinders University, Bedford Park, South Australia 5042. *School of Humanities, The Flinders University, Bedford Park, South Australia 5042. *School of Humanities, The Flinders University, Bedford Park, South Australia 5042.

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