All art is relative, but relatives are seldom art. My Aunt Letitia is a case in point: she has a face that terrifies children under twelve, and tradesmen. The latter quality is useful, but you have to live with Aunt Letitia to get the benefit of it: this is unfortunate. Indiarubber is the salvation of Amateur Art, but rubbing-out should not be indulged in except under the direct supervision of an Art master. If you can't get a thing where you want it first time, keep trying on separate pieces of paper.

Great Moderns have been known to draw with burnt match-sticks on the tablecloths in restaurants; others, under the stress of conflicting emotion, draw on walls in gouache, tempera, charcoal, silver point, pin point and pencil stub. Waiters are unhappy people. To refer to "Hercules Leaning on Club" (see picture on page 42) as "all knobs and bumps" is the height of ignorance - if, after drawing it forty-seven times, you still lack a feeling for form it is because (a) you are naturally plump, or (b) you had the foresight to bring a cushion. Landseer, G. F. Watts, and a German painter whose name I can't remember, are all great artists - cultured business men bought thousands of their works and gave them to provincial galleries. "The Dobbses are the Medici of the nineteenth century," writes a contemporary critic . . . but I think that Marx is right when he says the Borgias are to blame. Art is a great leveller; it brings the public down to the level of its most successful exponents.

Drawing as a means of self-expression is better than fretwork, because it is more difficult to put drawings round clocks. To half-close the eyes when looking at a picture is to be a connoisseur - completely to close the eyes when looking at a picture is rude. Any picture is pornographic that has hairs on . . . except Landseer. Blotting paper, rolled up tightly into a pointed cylinder, tones up flabby muscles and reduces observation to a formula.

To copy a photograph at all requires infinite patience; to copy a photograph so exactly that it is difficult, without a magnifying glass, to tell the copy from the

Art In Camera UncleAlbertsManualOfPracticalPhotography 131

Following the lead of my brothers-in-art I was persuaded to call this Salon Exhibit "No. 196." The critics simply loved it, and, exercising ineffable ingenuity, countered by giving it Balham-wide publicity as ". . . That brilliant example of modern photographic art . . . dramatising, as it does, a whole vivid chapter of British History . . . will, we are certain, go right down to posterity. . . . No. 196 or 'Canute had a word for it, too' is undoubtedly a masterpiece of the first magnitude." original is Art. To have studied from the Life is to have lived dangerously; girls who sit astride are emancipated. Pimples are nature's revenge for being emancipated. Emancipation and emaciation are not necessarily the same thing. Popular Art is very shiny; this is so that finger marks can be washed off. If Art isn't shiny (a) it isn't art, or (b) it isn't popular. Photographs are not Art unless they are out of focus. There are some ignorant people who can't tell fig-leaves from acanthus leaves. Statues without fig-leaves tend to be pornographic . . . except Landseer.

A feeling for drapery is invaluable in a sculptor, painter, or photographer. Etty would have made more money if he'd had more of it. Parts of the human body are beautiful, others are merely functional. Paris capitalizes a low liking for detail. The Greeks had no sense of propriety, but to blame them for it would be priggish because they had no penny post either.

To express an admiration for antiquity is normal; to know anything about it is to be boring. We live in an essentially moral age. Once the Church was Art's greatest patron; now soap is. Cleanliness and Godliness clasp hands across the centuries ..."Bubbles" symbolizes The Church Triumphant. All great An can be useful . . . this is not a wilde statement, young men like Bernard Shaw think so, too. Kipling was right when he said . . .:

"Creation's cry goes up on high

From age to cheated age: 'send us the men who do the work

For which they draw the wage ' . . ." Kipling is always right. To quote is a sign of erudition; books of quotations are very popular.

To know the name of a picture is more important than knowing what the artist is after; there is a deplorable tendency amongst some modern artists to give their pictures irrelevant names, or, worse still, to give them numbers instead of names. This shows a lack of inventiveness and puts yet another burden on the art critic; naming the picture is a good critic's first job. Many of them are very good at it.

Uncle Albert's Patent Distorting Mirror.

Uncle Albert's Patent Distorting Mirror (obtain able, price is. 9d., from all the leading Art Emporiums) is invaluable to those Pure-Art students who do not possess the natural obliquity of vision so necessary in successful modern practice.

Whistler is a great offender; you don't know, without going to the trouble of looking at it, whether "A Study in Grey and Silver" is a review of the Household Troops in Hyde Park, or a portrait of his mother. This sort of tiling should be stopped in the interests of popular education. Pictures without names can never be popular. A nice glossy picture with a richly descriptive title makes a good supplement to any periodical. Blatent advertising is when you can read the name on the packet. This is carrying things too far - like putting bladders with words in coming out of angels' mouths.

Patriotic pictures shine up well, but it is better to go back to Agincourt, or further. Otherwise you end up with a canvas full of red coats and brown heathen and the whole thing looks very uneven. Borrowed armour should never be dented, and when painting "King Charles I Saying Farewell to His Children," don't forget the lace collars and the highlights on the curls. Save your studies in case you have the luck to get a commission for a "Blind Boy." Don't try to run before you can walk, but remember, you'll never really get anywhere until you have combined twelve square yards of canvas and a hundredweight of plaster-and-gilt in one picture.