How we handle De Waag

> The training of the visual artist > A conversation with the painter-teacher G. van Duffelen > > [intro box:] Now that the visual arts in our country have the full attention of the government and the craftsmanship of the artist will be brought into play more than ever, we felt we ought to draw attention to the training of those who see free art as their life's purpose. We therefore, in an interview for "De Waag", put a few questions to the Amsterdam painter G. van Duffelen, who as a teacher at the Institute for Applied-Art Education, the so-called Museum School, has long experience and to whose judgement value may undoubtedly be attached. > > A first-floor apartment in the southern part of Amsterdam with a broad view over squares and new streets, where modern houses have risen from the green, flat land. A quiet sitting room, from which through the windows one sees a stretch of Dutch sky with racing clouds. Gulls glide past on narrowly beating wings. It must be wonderfully beautiful here in winter, with the gossamer-fine branches of the trees against the white blanket of snow that covers the slender façades. Exactly as we remember it from the splendid, atmospheric watercolour by v. Duffelen at the exhibition in "Arti". > > In the ridge of the house is the painter's studio. A kind of tower, in which a large plate-glass window lets the clear northern light stream in unhindered. On the walls, behind curtains and on an easel, paintings in deep and warm colours. A broadly-painted, fresh and open boy's portrait and many studies and sketches of children's figures. > > "My own boys," says the painter, and he says it in a tone that immediately makes one feel that this artist-and-father must be an excellent educator of future artists. > > I like to paint children, Van Duffelen tells us, and something sunny comes over the sharply-drawn face with the steel-blue eyes and the somewhat nervous mouth. "In a child's portrait you can put so much love, purity and tenderness that it as it were frees you from the oppression of the world around you. But still I have no particular genre that I practise. In general I do not find the subject so important either. What occupies me as a painter is only the problem of the rendering, the search for a whole, and that certainly need not be bound to a subject. > > — You paint a great deal, despite your many teaching hours, we remark. > — Yes, says Van Duffelen, that can and must be so. For in my view, he who gives art education must in the first place work himself. That is the foremost requirement to stay alive, not to stiffen, and to be able to give to the pupils. I have the subjects live-model painting and anatomy, and it is impossible to teach those well without "toiling and searching oneself", as my teacher Oldewelt put it. That is necessary in order to stand well and understandingly toward the young. > > I have myself gradually grown into teaching and it has become a part of my life. I would not gladly do without it. For I have learned to love youth with its enthusiasm and effervescent high spirits, and it gives great satisfaction to be able to give something of yourself to those young people whom you must guide. For above all it comes down to guidance, even though youth think they themselves know what they want. > > — How do young people actually come to the art-education institutions, and how is it decided who can be admitted there? > — You touch there on an important matter. I will not speak now of those prospective pupils who want to choose a trade that has to do only with drawing. This group finds its way well enough in the direction of applied art and ordinary drawing instruction. Besides a certain aptitude, other qualities can play a role here too. But the problem lies precisely with those who have set free art as their life's purpose. They are dependent on the teaching at the state academy of fine arts. Usually, however, they are far from advanced enough to be placed there in the first drawing class. They then come to us, often on the advice of the director-professor. So that we, at the Institute for applied-art education, are really assigned to make the pupils ready for higher art education. Now the great difficulty lies in judging the aptitude of such a beginner. One is confronted with his work, often his attempts, and the teacher must then just determine whether the candidate has talent. A great responsibility rests on us here. For with encouragement one must be extremely careful. The best solution usually proves to be, when the work holds a promise, to take the candidate into the training class and then to await his further development. > > [photo caption:] Self-portrait of G. van Duffelen (Photo Fellinga) > > Could the government's involvement with art also be of use here? > — Undoubtedly. Mr Gerdes has already said that art education — or rather the training to become an artist — must be transferred from the department of Education to that of Public Information and Arts. Then the Chamber of Culture (Kultuurkamer), together with the Guild (Gilde), will be able to have a decisive say in this. In this way this matter will then no longer, as was always the case before, be tackled by laymen, but by artists themselves. To make the choice as good as possible, cooperation will be needed between the secondary school or the gymnasium, the preparatory training and the academy. Only then will the chance of failure become considerably smaller. But then this youth must also not be plagued by the great cares of earning a living, which usually bring it too early to making its qualities productive. Its self-awareness will grow, and with it the sense of the obligations it has toward itself and its people (volk). > > — What, in this connection, is your opinion of the Labour Service (Arbeidsdienst) as a period of development, before academic study begins? > — It can only be to the good of the young artist when he must for some time work companionably with others. Besides the benefit that this work has for the body, he will experience the benefit of learning to understand the people (volk) in all its ranks and of feeling himself one with it. In this way a step is then taken on the road that leads to a good mutual understanding of artist and people. > > — How does the young generation in general stand toward the extremism in art? > — I believe we need not worry about that. In the time when these expressions were officially shown in museums as great art, it was understandable that the opinion could arise that professional study was superfluous and could even act as a brake on "free" artistic expression. Fortunately our youth prove to be spiritually healthy, and these phenomena, now that they have been pushed back out of public view, are passing of their own accord. When one now looks around at exhibitions, it is striking that professional study is increasingly being restored to honour and that work is again being done much more seriously. The young artists strive to be thorough in their work. But here too one must know how to keep measure. Although it is certainly necessary that art speaks to the people, it must also enrich the spirit of that people. The people must therefore learn to see through the eyes of the artists. And then the painters must above all not lapse into the worthy-bourgeois, for then they never rise above the people, but remain standing beneath their public. > > What do you mean by worthy-bourgeois? Were our 17th-century painters not that too? > — No. For that must not be sought in the subject. The very simplest thing can be seen grandly and painted splendidly in detail. But the details must remain subordinate to the whole and may never be pushed forward. Precisely our 17th-century painters are excellent examples of this. Just think of a still life by Heda or an interior by Vermeer. The great Japanese master Hokusai characterised it exactly by saying: "A bird is finished when it can fly, and not when the last little feather has been put on it!" Which does not at all mean that this last little feather may not be there. > > — What, finally, do you think of the Prix de Rome? > — This institution can only gain in value from the government's involvement in matters of art. Having arisen in a time of art patronage, it did not, in a certain period in our country, answer to its purpose. This is due above all to the spiritual attitude of our artists, or better still of the artists in that time. The Prix de Rome winner stood isolated in (continued from p.806) artistic life. In our country people cared nothing for the social position of the artist, and the bohème idea expressed itself even in the criticism, which often took a hostile attitude toward the laureate. Just think of what the painter-writer Jacobus van Looy wrote about this. Lately it has become much better. But still I believe that only through a revision of the government's attitude and through state care for the artist can the improvement that is necessary be achieved. And with this Van Duffelen ends his argument, which contains much worth heeding and about which it is good to reflect. > > [signed:] JAAP VALK.