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SMAD. An Organ of Student Opinion. 1937. Volume 8. Number 8.

The Art of La Morn a Birch. — A Retrospect

The Art of La Morn a Birch.

A Retrospect.

When an artist gives a picture a name, say "Gray Weather, Raetahi." he means "I conceived the idea of this landscape on a grey day at Raetahi," It is the product of his imagination, and it is no criticism to say that we have never seen Raetahi like that on a grey day.

Mr. Lamorna Birch is an Englishman, nearly seventy years old, so his conception of New Zealand scenery is very different from mine. The bright blue of the summer sky with its passing clouds meant nothing to him, nor did the ever-changing shadows of the brown hills. He passed by the quiet, eternal green of the bush, the snow-fed rivers with their background of jagged mountains, and the silver tussock-covered foothills. These were alien to him. He could not understand the excitement of looking out from same peak, perhaps Tinakori Hill, and saying, "This is my own country."

Nearly all the water-colour drawings were in low tones. His skies were quiet yet clear, as we sec them in other parts of New Zealand just before rain. Thank God, he did not give us "prettiness" but surely the scenery of our country possesses a strength, almost a challenge, which is lacking in these quiet pictures.

The most interesting pictures were those of the more ordinary part of New Zealand. He was quite at home in the Mackenzie Country, and for this reason alone he touched a sympathetic memory, but he was familiar with their subject-matter before ever he came here—a willow tree, a quiet smoethly flowing stream, a stretch of pasture, and a round hill in the background. He would have enjoyed painting round Havelock North, or near Nelson.

He did not attempt to paint the bush, very wisely perhaps, and his pohutukawas were dull affairs, quite lacking the contrast between the dull green and silver leaves and the brilliant crimson blossoms. Also his hills were not the brown hills with a ripple of silver as we know the m, but drab hills like the waste lands of Marlborough on a wet day.

But the craftsmanship was there, however. The drawing of the rainbow trout was magnificent brush-work, his painting of sheer light in the small oil "Sunset, Piha." was memorable, and only a true artist endowed with the skill of a master could have caught the light of the sun behind the clouds as he did in the drawing "Pohutukawas at Piha."

The best of the oils was m my opinion. "Piha." The composition in this is very strong. The Lion Rock is seen through Pohutukawas. with a breaking sea behind, and a real creek with typical green river-flats.

Of the watercolours, liked best, "The Lion Rack. Piha." with its simple composition, and very impressive light effects.

In conclusion, I must repeat that it is unfair to criticise an artist because he sees things in a totally different aspect from our own. Art would be a deadly business if he did. We live in a younger and freer country. Where life is still fresher than in the older parts of the world, and New Zealand scenery can be truly interpreted only by New Zealand artists, men and women whose art is rooted in the land where they were born Art of all things springs straight from the soil.