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at present he is making a tour in Morocco.
In the pictures by Myron Barlow one witnesses
a more physiological vision. To simplify an under-
standing of his art, I might say he paints the luxury
of the poor. If you have ever seen a country pedlar
offering his wares to the crofters’ wives and peasants’
daughters, and been observant, you will under-
stand the art of Myron Barlow ; and if you have
been fortunate enough to have gained their con-
fidence you will enjoy it. Mr. Barlow designs his
work : he is not a slave to nature ready-made; his
work is always decorative, not decorated, and
his colour broad and simple: though bright at
times it is never disturbing by a lack of harmony.
I have heard it said that his subjects are a little
similar. Perhaps he feels that too, for he told me
he intended seeking a new line. But whatever
outcome his art takes, one can be certain it will
not be superficial.

Parke C. Dougherty ex-
presses himself entirely in
landscape. One does not
find in his work any eccen-
tricity or strained origin-
ality ■ nature satisfies him,
and it is with her ever-
changing seasons he
sympathetically battles-
His canvases are never
hastily framed fcchades;
in each there is a finished
relation. The greater at-
tainment observable in
Mr. Dougherty’s work
each year proves that he
is no satisfied idler always
basking in the sun of past
success. Though to
dream of it and imagine
the future promotes dis-
covery, to ignore any new
movement because you
don’t understand it is
cowardly and stupid. Mr.

Dougherty does not accept
this age of art as a resting-
place, but a road, and if
what he has done is good,
what he is doing is better,
and America must count
him with her artists in
Paris who are helping to
establish for her an art of
her own. E. A. T.

290

A SWISS ARTIST: EDMOND G.
REUTER. BY PROF. ROBERT
MOBBS.

At a time when not a few artists and writers
allow the pure gold of their talents to be tarnished
by the passion for easy and loud-sounding success
or insane theory it is refreshing to turn to those who
have kept steadily before them a lofty ideal of their
vocation. Happily there are many silent workers
whose beautiful inventive gift is accompanied by a
decorous modesty that “ neither strives nor cries,”
who carry on a great tradition in art or letters,
and who are true to the secret vision of beauty it
nourishes.

M. Edmond Reuter certainly belongs to this
category by nature and predilection. His in-
stinctive reserve, as of one who could only find

ILLUMINATED PAGE: “CASTLES IN,, THE AIR”

RY EDMOND G. REUTER