SO YOU DON'T LIKE MODERN ART by Doyle Strong Editor's note: Doyle Strong, an art instructor at Weber, won first award in the professional division of the 49th Annual Competitive Exhibit sponsored by the Utah Institute of Fine Arts. This is the type of article that can lose for the writer that group of friends whose painting is not compatible with the idea presented therein. If one chooses to write on such a controversial subject as Modern Art, he must of necessity make a definite stand and at the same time be prepared to divorce himself from that group which is just as definite in a negative way. Since my sympathies in this matter of painting are with a minority group, and since my paintings have long since committed me to a definite point-of-view that is more positive than anything I may write, my good-byes have already been indelibly said with pigment. So, with nothing more to lose, with the possible exception of my literary friends, your patience and picture sales, let us appraise Modern Art from its true worth rather than its imaginary "value." However, let me point out that what I say here is directed at a philosophy and not at individuals within a group who enshroud themselves within the filmy veil of that philosophy. I do not, however, take exception to that group of "experts" who, merely because parrots have off-spring, take it upon themselves to perpetuate the folly of this philosophy. I feel certain that the one element in painting the average observer is as competent to judge as the so called expert is the element of representation; that is, an accurate portrayal of forms as they exist in nature. The "modern" painter needs only eliminate this element then, and paint in a "non-objective" manner lose all identity of objects and he has increased the gap between the artist and observer to such an extent that there no longer exists any criteria on which the public can base a sound judgment. It is then the observer turns to the "expert" for an explanation. And the "expert" or "authority" on Modern Art, almost without exception, is that person who, having failed at painting, has turned to writing about it. He does not realize that the very thing that kept him from being a competent painter also keeps him from having an accurate appraisal of it. This person may be a fine writer, however, and although he knows nothing about the intrinsic merit of art, it is not unusual for the reader to misinterpret the journalistic merit if one does not notice how much the terms employed resemble fog for artistic merit. Reporting of this type is almost as bad as the painting it chooses to exhalt. Bad, because it forces a decadent art upon an unsuspecting public by enlisting the dilettante, the "amateur fringe" and the "band wagon" writers and their followers to lend their authority of numbers to the "movement." The spokesmen of the modern groups repudiate representation in painting, because, they say, "It is an imitation of superficial forms." They say further, that "It is no part of their purpose to render what they see or to copy the visual elements of the world, but rather to create a 'formal order' derived from the mind rather than from nature." They envisage painting as a language of imaginative creation not as "objective reporting." Rather than being concerned with the external appearance of things, they would express the inner nature of, and the emotion aroused by an object without depiciting the object itself. It appears to me that by such cerebrally conceived "formal order," the attempt is to make bricks not only without straw, but also without clay. Such exhalted objectives, and the language in which they are couched, make a strong appeal to people who are only interested in painting when it is interpreted in terms of something else. If one confines himself to only reading the objectives they are not difficult to accept. The discrepancy between the program and the execution is emphasized, however, when one views in the pictures produced. Whenever any object is recognizably portrayed in one of their canvases, the folly of their theory as a painters' working hypothesis becomes painfully apparent. For, as soon as an object is understood to resemble a tree, a head, or the sea, the average observer inevitably becomes critical of the effectiveness of its representation. Considerable knowledge and skill are required to portray an object that is persuasive to the average eye. And the necessary knowledge is acquired only through the study of precisely those visual aspects of nature which these new painters take pride in ignoring. They apparently do not realize that the forms which they profess to draw from within their minds are simply fragmentary memories of just such visual aspects of external nature. Memories, which as artistic material are too slight and too incomplete unless they are reinforced by observation and study. The painters of these pictures may choose to remain in the realm of cerebral inspiration exclusively, or to take surreptitious glances at the world about them; the result, however, is still representation. But it is representation so inadequate, so clumsy that it is often indistinguishable from the attempts at painting associated for centuries with beginners, amateurs and "artistic children." Only the twentieth century has seen fit to call such efforts either "modern" or art. 6 Scenes From Family Portrait Director, John Kelly FAMILY PORTRAIT By Anne Rasmussen If anyone is wondering why Mr. John G. Kelly didn't speak to him in the halls during the first half of the quarter, here's the answer. He wasn't seeing you; he was seeing Mary, Joseph, Judah, Simon or perhaps Judas Iscariot. Hell week was Kelly's jumping off place. He left Cellar Theater while The Male Animal was still in full swing and started rehearsals on Lenore Coffee and William Joyce Cowan's Family Portrait. Not only did he jump from the frying pan into the fire, Kelly kept that fire blazing for five full weeks. Then during the sixth week he packed in six full houses to experience one of the Community Theater's finest dramatic productions. Anyone who didn't see Carolyn Glassman missed something. As Christ's mother she was delicate, but convincing. One couldn't help thrilling at the exquisite beauty and strength which made her Mary so near and dear to each member of her audience. The community was well represented by other adult members of the cast and by sparkling Alfred Shaw, who played the part of Mary's fun-loving, cookie-loving grandson. Bruce Thompson as Judah, Mary's youngest son, more nearly resembled his mother than any of his brothers. Yet even he did not understand why Mary considered his brother Jesus so special. Judah's sweet, sincere personality was portrayed so genuinely that one almost forgot Bruce was acting. Bruce wasn't the only student representing W. G.; even his English teacher, Helen Mally, carried a lifelike and convincing role as Mary's sister-in-law. It's next to impossible to list here all the merits of all the cast, for it was one of the largest and best on Community Theater records. Weber College and Ogden Community are definitely advancing dramatically. Those who missed Family Portrait, missed a big step almost a leap in that advancement. Yes, it looks as though Weber, Kelly and the community did it again! 7