e carpets, are works of art; and therefore I
am less inclined to feel crushed by Mr. Davies's discovery that my
premises follow from my conclusions than to inquire why Mr. Davies does
not consider carpets and pots and buildings works of art, or, if, after
all, he does consider them works of art, to what class he relegates
pictures and statues. My object is to discover some quality common and
peculiar to all works of art. Such a quality there must be unless when
we use the term "works of art" we gibber. Does Mr. Davies assert that
only pictures and statues can be works of art? Or are we to assume that
he gibbers?
Even if I cannot argue profitably with my new friend I may be able to
give him a useful hint. For though, as he wittily observes, he is still
much older than I am, it is conceivable that I enjoy a wider aesthetic
experience.
"To look for the same qualities in a carpet and a picture would be
equally absurd, seeing that one is intended to hang on the wall and
the other to be laid on the floor. If any one doubts this, let him
frame his carpets and put his canvases over the parquet."
To hang on the wall was, of course, precisely the purpose for which many
of the finest Oriental carpets were intended; but disdaining all
considerations, no matter how relevant, that seem to set a premium on
scholarship, I will gladly put my friend and his readers in the way of
carrying out this interesting experiment. They need not jeopardize the
drawing-room furniture. Not far from the house in which Mr. Davies lives
stands a building so large and so silly that it can scarcely have
escaped his admiration. It is the Victoria and Albert Museum; and any
one who cares to step inside can see a fair collection of Oriental
carpets hanging picture-wise against the wall--hanging in frames too. I
shall be very much surprised if the more sensitive of those who trouble
to pay them a visit do not feel that these carpets are as aesthetically
satisfactory on the wall as they would be on the floor, and I shall be
amazed if they do not feel also that they are as definitely works of art
as the objects that adorn the walls of the Tate Gallery.
My purpose is to discover the quality common and peculiar to works of
art. I have suggested that this quality is what I call Significant
Form--i.e. combinations of lines and colours that are in themselves
moving. A good many people besides Mr. Davies have blamed me for giving
the na
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