Rome Free Academy - De O Wain Sta Yearbook (Rome, NY)

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16 Tue SENIOR ANNUAL. It is a charming picture, far more cheerful, both in color and in general conception, than is usual even in Watts’s best work. The Spotless Knight, clad in his silver armor, leaning idly and motionlessly against his snow-white charger, surrounded by soft foliage, stands with his pure, wistful, young profile uplifted. A half mystical light seems glowing down upon his face, upon his shining armor and upon the tangle of leaves at his spurred feet. He stands dreamily be- fore us, a true, perfect, young Galahad, ready to go forth to conquer the world in the strength of his youth. the picture is remarkably Technically, good. For Watts, although his perform- ances were always very uneven, often excel- lent, sometimes poor, and although he has been by some artists mercilessly criticised as a poor technician, was as a rule neither a slovenly nor an incompetent painter; on the contrary, he has done work that holds with the best produced in the nineteenth century. His Galahad is especially noticeable for its very rich key of color, and its painting of the armor and the woody background. The face, too, of the knight, as he stands bare- headed, gazing before him at the vision “none else might see,” expresses all the purity and Knight. Looking at the picture, one uncon- sciously recalls those words spoken to Gala- enthusiasm of the Spotless had, starting out upon his quest, by Tenny- son’s sweet young nun, into whose cell the vision of the Holy Grail had shone in all its wondrous loveliness: “Go forth, for thou shalt see what I have seen, And break through all, till one will crown thee king, Far in the splendid city.”’ Indeed there lingers in the pure wistful face of the Galahad so divine a beauty, that his might well be the haloed head of some: young saint; already has the knight seen the Holy Grail, and heard the cry, “O, Gala- had and O Galahad, follow me;”’ his is the rapt, purely impassioned face of one, who, having heard the call, has followed on until he has at last seen the vision face to face, Watts was always an idealist, a man of noble dreams, who would have those dreams who would have men think for themselves. He has said of his own pictures, that, “they must be considered as symbols, intended to suggest in the lan- reality; a thinker, guage of art, modern thought in things eth- Furthermore, it has been that the great power of Watts’s pictures, the reason for ical and spiritual.” generally conceded their grasp upon the multitude, lies in the meaning they possess; a meaning which is, perhaps, sometimes more suitable for expres- sion in literature than in art, but which is, still, always poetic, ennobling and lofty. At first sight Watts’s picture of Sir Galahad may seem simply a portrait, a fig- ure of a young knight, clad in silver armor, his sweet youthful profile upturned. But surely the artist who instilled into so simple a picture as this, such a subtle, mysterious but certain beauty, could not have failed to intend a deeper, more spiritual meaning. And in the Galahad even we, “blind unto holy things,”” recognize the face of one, who unearthly pure, has attained to the noblest, the best in life. For what, after all, is the vision of the Holy Grail but a symbol of true, high Good. But, although this knight, Galahad, was successful in his quest, saw the vision face to face, what of his comrades, who, also, longed to find the Holy Cup, who, also, left the duty on hand, but who were lost in quag- mires and never returned? ‘“‘For man can not bring Heaven down to earth; he can not sanctify by his own rapturous anticipations There must always be those who, by men’s standard, fail; who, im- perfect, struggle in vain and only look upon the Holy Grail veiled. Tennyson says: ‘Man is but as the hind, so often the mass of men?”

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THE SENIOR ANNUAL. 15 men, their hearts might once more become clean. The Holy Grail, brought ages be- fore to Glastonbury by Joseph of Arima- thea, was the cup used by Christ at the last supper, and had long been absent from mor- tal vision, for only the pure in heart could see it. So the knights set out, upon their several ways, filled with so eager a longing to see the beautiful vision that they heeded not even the prophetic warning of their beloved King, who said, ““Ah, Galahad, for such as And indeed the others pursued wandering fires thou art is the vision, not for these.”’ over the face of the whole earth for many years, and some were lost in quagmires so that they Galahad found — the immediately never Grail returned; but and was caught up to Heaven with the Holy Cup— which shall never again be seen by earthly eyes. The establishment, the greatness, and the downfall of this impracticably ideal king- dom of King Arthur’s, the adventures of Sir Galahad and the knights who vowed them- selves to the search of the Holy Grail, form a group of chivalric legends, unified by a thread of connecting meaning. Among the great poets and artists, who, attracted perhaps by some subtle underlying strain of wonderful beauty, have turned to these old legends fo r material for their art, is George Frederick Watts, who has given the world a beautiful Sir Galahad—the most perfect picture of the pure knight ever painted. young George Frederick Watts, during his long life England’s greatest artist, was born in London in 1817, and died, an old man, at his English home, in 1904. His artistic training was perhaps fragmentary, and, in- deed, it was not his technic, but his wonder- ful imagination which made Ruskin declare Watts to be the one painter of thought in England. Watts entered the schools of the Royal Academy when little more than a boy, and afterward went to Italy, spending many years there in the absorbing study of the old masters. His first notable picture was a prize cartoon of Caractacus, painted for the decoration of the House of Parliament; and following in quick succession he produced a wonderful series of pictures which made his name famous and his high position in Eng- lish art secure. As a youth Watts dreamed of building a shining Temple of Life with vast corridors and stately chambers; its walls covered with frescoes depicting in epic the eternal mys- teries of life and death. Although this im- practicably ideal ambition was never accom- plished, Watts always remained a dreamer of dreams and a seer of visions. An un- daunted idealist, he belonged to no partic- ular school of art; but, always broadly hu- man, struggled effectually against the medi- ocrity into which English painting seemed at one time inevitably sinking. Not openly re- bellious to the modern movement of art like the gallant young Pre-Raphaelites, Watts tried to revive the grand manner of the old masters and to preserve the dignity of art The result was such that even those modern artists and by a recourse to didacticism. critics, who impartially condemn all paint ers whose work is not entirely art for art’s sake, have had to acknowledge George Frederick Watts to have been a great and original artist. Outside of portraiture, in which he had few rivals, Watts generally chose classical or allegorical subjects for painting, rising often to grandeur in conception, and always, even in his weakest pictures, instilling something of ‘‘the glory and the dream.’ Sir Galahad, one of Watts’s principal subject pieces, was painted in 1862, and has, together with twenty-five of his other most celebrated pictures, been given by the artist to the National Gallery of British Art.

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THE SENIOR ANNUAL. 17 To whom a space of land is given to plough, Who may not wander from the allotted field, Before his Yet, surely, there may sometimes be one wo! k is done.” like Galahad, different from those baser ones who scarcely know what they go out into the wilderness to see; one, who filled with the glory of the vision, can say, “I have seen the Holy Grail;’’ one by whose side, both day and night, will move the beautiful vision. Pauline Clarke. Here he is himself, marred, as you see ONE LESS. The fifteenth of March brought dark shadows for the students of the Rome Free Miss Gowing, who is held in tender, loving remembrance by all of us, was with us that day for the last time as Of course the Seniors took steps to fittingly observe the sad departing. A Academy. a teacher. few of them purchased some heavy crepe with which they proceeded to decorate the abode of the Rt. Hon. Sidney K. Backus. On this sad mourning was placed a wreath of holly. A number of the Seniors then posted themselves in the hall to intercept the Honorable when he should appear. At exactly 1:05 p. m. he appeared bear- ing the marks of grief upon his unusually Soon afterward came the Rt. Howard MacFarland, Curiosity was grave face. Honorable’s porter, bearing a dress suit case. evinced by all the onlookers and these ob- structed the path of Mr. Backus, who there- fore was unable to enter the Study Hall un- til 1:15 p. m. Of course he was applauded, as he de- served, for when before has a student been so highly honored? But how his spirits fell when he faced his casket (the desk draped in black.) Promptly at 3:30 the cry “Miss Gow- ing,” ““Miss Gowing,” echoed through the Study Hall; but alas! That much-called for lady ap- was echoed and re- all in vain. peared for an instant and then disappeared. This was an awkward turn of affairs for the Seniors, but they retained their reputa- tion and somewhat added to their reputa- tion. After Mr. Harris had made a few fitting remarks one of the Seniors arose and spoke as follows : Mr. Harris: This is a sad, a very sad Sadness has crept into my heart (Slight laughter.) We have met here—because we could not meet (Laughter.) Oh Ro- mans! “If ye have tears to shed, prepare to When we think of what has been and remember what is to come, occasion. and tears fill my eyes. elsewhere. shed them now.” grief has been our only consoler. Look with tender pity on my esteemed friend (pointing out “‘Sid’’ Backus) who is now in deepest mourning. How sad is his heart this day! (Laughter.) How many beautiful times we have had together. Alas! they are no more. This is a sad day. (Laughter. ) But look again, ye mourners, at my sad friend (pointing to “Sid” Backus.) Be- hold! I see not only signs of mourning but I