Massachusetts College of Art and Design - Palette and Pen Yearbook (Boston, MA)

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PMOTCeCAPHS Faculty C ass of 1929 Class of 1930 Class of 1931 Class of 1932 Organizations 11

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far as the subjects were concerned for the large room was filled with oils and water colors of German castles, Italian and French streets and houses, bits of the canals of enice, and of the English sea- coast. The artist, Leonard Richmond, treats his picturesque subjects decoratively and his colors are clear and fresh. The water colors in particular are transpar- ent and very water-colory.” “Corfe Castle, Dorsetshire, England” is a grey pile upon a dark hill lightened in one spot where the sun strikes the green grass. The River Doubs, Besan- con, France” has a fragile and spotless (luality with its pale blues and faint shades of yellow. In Lakes in the Clouds, two cups of clear green-blue water are caught in the hollows of the gloomy hills. Among the oils were, The Entrance to the Bequinage,” a still, vhite street, barred with shadows, and on either side high, steep-gabled houses roofed with orange shingles. The Golden Sands of Dinard, Brittany captured me by its melodious title. I don ' t remember the picture, itself. At Messrs. Doll and Richards ' there has been a group of sculptures by Edgardo Simone, mostly portrait beads. There was a woman ' s figure emerging from the rough marble in an interesting pose. It was called Inspiration Musicale, and was intended for a foun ' .ain. Prayer is a subdued bust of a madonna-like per- son, whose meek, slim hands are up- raised on either side of her head. The Boston . rt C lub put on a large and varied show of prints, including etchings, dry-points and wood-blocks which are nearly all beautifully designed and woith studying for tbeir technical beauty alone. The first one that at- tracted my eye as I entered, ( probably because it resembled a costume sketch ) was an etching of a foreign-appearing woman, very likely a Russian, judging from the number of syllables in the ar- tist ' s name. The face was very carefully drawn in detail while the clothing, a printed shawl and skirt were simply sug- gested with a few lines and a surface pattern. The contrast between the fin- ished head and the simply rendered cos- tume made the whole very pleasing. Broken Rails by P. B. Parsons was a dry-point of a rickety rail fence lead- ing up a hill to a tree-shadowed fairy house like the one where the witch lived. There were several etching of fisher- men by Sears Gallagher and a delicate sketch of the dunes and the water. Sand and Sea, by E. B. Warren. Near the door were two very lovely etchings of a snow-storm. The solid masses of trees and fence posts were indicated by short broken lines far enough apart to suggest that snowflakes blurred the rest. (Jne of the best block prints in color is Ernest ' atson ' s, Day ' s End ; great dark horses tugging at a plow under a gold and purple sumset. A more striking print, tho ' not as beautiful, is the one called “Prayer for the Drowned, a group of women in silhouette, with upflung arms imploring the iieavens for mercy. At the Public Library the result of the annual “House Beautiful cover contest was shown. Many and varied are the ideas inspired by the word “house, ' ’ from “moving day” to a futuristic house and garden piled on top of a skyscraper. Moving Day had several versions. In one, the furniture was being neatly packed into a van in the orthodox way, in an- other, a vagabond fellow lazily drove along the highway with his cuckoo clock and bridge lamp tucked in the back of the wagon. M. rjorie E. Root A Rhapsody in Blue ■ t this time of the year it has appeared customary for local seniors to digress on pulling up the stakes, letting out the topsail or wheeling the plane out of the hangar to venture into the blue etber to answer a mysterious urge, the future. The air is teeming with suppre.ssed yearn- ings, lingering regrets and tearful fare- wells. Life, take me for what I am! I ' m your responsibility now. Those curling, yellow green tendrils left in the gutter in late . pril, the for- sythia dying in May, the haunting es- sence of the first roses in June no wonder we suddenly drop all the little strings we are pulling and sit down in the grass. There is the warmth of the sun, a lur- in,g sweetness of opening buds, damp from rain. There is the ground, hard, brown, cracking for a strong little, green spear. There are those wonderful, tou.gh, soaring columns encased in their fibrous, coarse, scale like bark. victi)rs over sn; w, sleet and icy winter blast. Those waiting trees stand with their emptiness rewarded. They are exultant on every bough. The air is busy with birds ; the sky, clear or massed with the schooners of the wind. film of green creeps over every dull and hardy shrub. Late in the day the sun glows low in the sky. The street warm in misty orange light is barred with shadows. There is a faint music of the birds, a rubbing of tbeir feathers as they nest. When the sun comes around the corner, you take your hat off. It lifts your hair, puts cool fingers over your eyes. . nd when evening setlcs down, the stir grows (piiet in the grass. The first faint piping of the crickets comes from far. In the still- ness that dying forsythia looks like a white ghost on the lawn ; there ' s a white moon swiftly skimming the stars. Deep in the heart of the night, blue branches mingle, make a lattice against gray distance. The pattern of outlines, of objects blurs. Grass, trees, and sky blend, a mist envelops all. There is no earth, only a space and a silence. Hili). L. Frost. What Follotus? The Vignette, as a bi-monthly fea- ture. is gone. Long live — what?? Now that the deed is done and a good work has been terminated, wbat is to be done to fill the space? It leaves a space. It is not entirely as if it had never ex- isted. We. who have worked for it, have had faith in it. We believe that it meant something, that it filled some need, even in a trade school. hor two years we have fought to build it up, to make it worthy of an art school, worth the effort that was put into it, worth the paper it was printed on. We have tried to give you timely, interesting articles. When we have been fortunate enough to hear a speak- er whose name means something to us all, we have tried to pass our experi- ence along for the enjoyment of those who couldn ' t go. When we have found things of interest in the theatre, in lit- erature, we have handed them on to you. We have tried to keep you in touch with current e.xhibitions. We have given you a regular column of humor. The Plumbline, lest our mag- azine become too serious. We have tried to give variety, and we have had faith enough in our work to know that The Vignette has not passed out of ex- istence because it was unworthy. There is a group of people, here, to whom The Vignette has been a source of information and enjoyment, people wbo appreciate the opportunity to con- tribute to such a paper, and who would like the experience which work of that sort offers. L ' nfortunately, these peo- ple are in the minority. The school owes them such an opportunity as ex- isted in The Vignette. They are the people of ability. They are the ones who will feel a loss. They are the ones through whom any e.xpression of the school as a whole must come, and because there is a larger number of people who take no interest in such a form of exi)ression, who do not care one way or the other, these others, who have the ability, and to whom it makes a difference, must be deprived of an opportunity which is their due. On what ground has The Vignette been discontinued? On this, that it was not representative of the school as a whole: that an art school is no place for a literary magazine. Why is this school unable to support a literary magazine? Why should our means of expression be limited to graphic form? Are we blind to other arts than our own? This has become a mere trade school, a place where people come to learn a trade, and where they get just what they come after. If extra things are offered, they feel no obligation to take them. If they do not like them they have the privilege of removing them. Certainly, if an organ of ex- pression is not serving its purpose ade- |uately, there is no question that it should be made to do so, but to destroy a good work and to offer no substitute, notbing to fill the .gap, that is some- thing entirely different. 1 (giestion the right of any majority to vote out an institution which has no greater fault than that of shooting over their heads, and which, for others, has proven a source of stimulation and enjoyment, an educational feature which they desire and appreciate. The majority vote may be a democratic feature, but it is not always the best move for a school as disorganized as this is. D. W. 10

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Koyai. B. Farntm 10 Prospect I ' errace, Newtomille 12