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theory of husband and lover." So she dwells shut up in cloister, chanting chaste hymns to the cold, fruitless moon, in a decadence of monotone tranquillity.
The academic person would be the last to strike a defiant attitude. It is true that the academic person settling into a comfortable middle age near the campus of a girls' college must often shake herself out of pageantry into reality, must constantly test the wires which connect her with the outside hurly-burly where the general population grows up and grows old. Occasionally an uncommonly restive spirit will cry out with the rebellious shepherdess in the fair old pastoral, "Oh, if only a very little wolf would break in!" Yes, the academic person will not deny that her life is lacking in dramatic effect.
She would, however, be probably the last to suspect that her calling could need defense. Her lameness she would cite as the index of her value. She would call it excuse enough in a hasty and vocational America to uphold the tradition that study is a slow thing.
For pur modern world, seeking always new and newer inventions for putting quick girdles round the earth, has not quite given up the notion that it may happen soon on some handy method for the rapid diffusion of general culture. We have not hit upon it yet. We have known now for a long time that the millennium will not happen when everybody goes to college. A college senior once said to me: "You can get a B.A. without knowing much, can't you? I've been thinking about it for four days."
We have most of us been thinking about it for longer than that. The B.A. has not turned out to be an absolute short cut to learning. And the graduate world is pathet.ically full of attempted short cuts which do not quite arrive, of second-hand expedients for instruction.
We can buy a complete manual of everything from Greek art to psychological pedagogy. We are beginning to study Gothic on the phonograph. We are to go on conveniently with our history and literature by means of the moving-picture show. We get our music so nicely on the Victrola. And even the graduate schools of our universities can show plenty of "earnest students" who would like to acquire their education as the young robin gets its worm—to hold the head up and the mouth open, expecting little
junks of learning to be dropped in predigested and cut up.
There may then be a more than ever necessary place, among women as elsewhere, for academic resistance to a too easy progress. There may be a more than ever necessary place, in the girl's college as in the man's, for the frightfully academic person who, though loving the touch of practical affairs, nevertheless gives scholarship her central devotion, who cherishes as a reasonable service that fine ardor for the things of the mind, that zest of purely intellectual curiosity, which we are wont to associate in faint-hearted moments with the lost arts of the lost centuries.
Whether we used to pose as grind or butterfly or philosopher, we all remember an intellectual experience as the essential stuff of college life. As college women we are concerned that intellectual experience should be the increasingly essential stuff of college future, that a more vitally rooted culture should grow more wide-spread in the gardens of young America. And culture, that "plant and flower of light," does seem to require for its health a slow and careful nurture. For the quick-growing vine, the gourd which sprang up in a night, we are told that God prepared the first worm. And since have been sent grasshoppers and caterpillars innumerable for all plants good and bad.
Grubbing is tame business. A life of grubbing among books must have its narrowness. But it need not be too narrow. "For out of olde bokes, in good feith, cometh al this newe science that men lere." And we are brought up in the doctrine that "a good book is the precious life-blood of a master spirit," not just the dusty urn which contains his ashes.
So there may be grinds still, like Browning's grammarian—among women too, as we may venture to admit—worthy to be buried on the heights because they have found leisure through life to putter around the very little roots of the very little things of learning. Even the despised "grind" of the college girl's dread had the under side of a bright hope. And the day is perhaps at hand when the college- girl will lose her dread of scholarly unloveliness, discard her occasional pose of nonchalant detachment, and confess with full sincerity her fundamental preference for the "free liberty of the mind and the garnishing of the same." PUTTING ART TO WORK FOR THE MASSES
THE democratizing of art by relating its creative powers to the development of the natural resources of the state is comparatively a new movement for this country, though in Europe art has been a popular, democratic institution, enjoyed alike by poor and rich for generations. Americans have poured hundreds of millions of dollars of their money into the pockets of European tradesmen in order that they, too, might participate in the enjoyment of this far-reaching utilization of art. Now comes an American State with a well-defined programme for the adaptation of art to the work of developing its industries and natural resources, which in time will add many millions to the wealth of the people.
Rich in the art heritage which has come to it from the Old World through the medium of its alien citizens, Minnesota is harnessing art for the development of the common people. This is rather a difficult undertaking, due to the fact that the average American has looked upon art as the fad of the excessively rich, or a drawing-room profession, but Minnesota has made appreciable progress in this new undertaking. The coming of millions of immigrants from the art centres of the Old World has made it possible for the United States to reap the benefit of a splendid foundation for such work, but failure to make use of this opportunity has permitted American industries to remain in the background while European manufacturers have reaped the profits of commercial art. The sudden halt in the flow of European artisans to America has given the nation an opportunity to take an inventory of its resources in the ranks of the common people for the first time.
Ten years ago Minnesota set out to prove that art is related to the good of the masses as well as the classes. It created a State Art Commission, a bureau patterned on the same lines as the State Bureau of Mines or any other department of State government. It was the first American State Vol. LX11.—79
to take this step and even to-day stands alone in this respect. The commission has undertaken the task of showing the common people that art has a dollar-and-cents value, and is extremely democratic, despite misleading appearances. Its sphere of influence has been extended beyond that of creating fine canvases and statuary to the development of industries having in them latent art possibilities.
Seventy-five per cent of the State's population is of Old World descent. Most of these people found themselves unable to compete with machine-made articles, despite their superior ability in craftsmanship, and have allowed their art instinct to be crowded out by attempting to adapt themselves to the competition of American machinery. This accounts in no small way for the huge sums Americans have been spending annually for goods bearing such trade-marks as "Made in Germany," "Made in Belgium," or "Made in France," which are guarantees of beauty as well as serviceability.
Minnesota's greatest resource, in the opinion of Maurice I. Flagg, director of the State Art Commission, is her people, and the first work of the commission has been devoted to the development of better ideals and an increased earning capacity among the workers in the homes and factories. Art has been harnessed and put to work building more attractive farm homes, planning attractive lawns and yards for farmers and city residents, fostering infant industries having in them great art possibilities, making farm life more attractive for the young people, and doing the thousand-andone things which Minnesotans have neglected heretofore. Nor has the struggling artist been neglected, for it is Minnesota's aim to foster the fine as well as the common arts.
The Minnesota manufacturer is being shown how to utilize art in the development of his business along broader lines. He is now adapting something of the beauty of designs and patterns used in European industries of the same character, improv
ing the working and living conditions of his workers, and encouraging the individual stamp of quality and beauty in every article made in his plant, whether it be clothespins or farming implements. On the other side, the farmer is finding that better and more attractive homes encourage greater efficiency and content among the members of his family and his workers. His crops are being benefited thereby, though the average farmer would have to laugh if he were told that art could help in growing better and larger crops. The working man is learning that quality as well as quantity are demanded by his employer, and that each finished article he turns out establishes his standing as an artist. Flower-pots and shrubbery arc taking the places of the tin cans and dumping spots in the back yards of the workers, and there has been an increased demand for paint among this class of people in an effort to beautify and improve their homes. Fatter pay envelopes have been the result in every factory where art has been put to work by employer and employee.
The incorporation of art into the work of the manufacturing plants and industries of America will in time serve to wean the average American away from the shopping counters of Europe to his own stores and shops, as he will find that he can obtain the same beauty and quality for which he has been going to Europe to pay the foreign merchant fancy prices. When that time comes the trade-mark "Made in America" will have attained something more of worldwide significance, inasmuch as it will have opened new markets and channels of trade which have been swamped with European goods. The vision of an American trademark with other distinguishing marks than the sign of the dollar is one which is beginning to appeal to the far-sighted manufac
Hirer, thanks to the work of the art commission.
"To study the consular reports of current trade journals is to realize that art needs no defense as a practical, vital force in the development of economic and industrial Europe," said Mr. Flagg in outlining the plans of the State Art Bureau. "These foreign trade-marks are being accepted by Americans as guarantees of beauty and quality, QBBIBIHBHfl an^ lne American public has been willing to pay the price demanded. We have had no other choice because there has been little or no American competition. Not only are we willing to pay the price, but we insist on going abroad for the purpose of purchasing. In [1913 the citizens of the United States paid four hundred millions of dollars for enjoying the beauty side of Europe."
The secret of the success of the European manufacturer of chinaware is explained in a recent trade report, which says that the American manufacturer cannot compete at the present time with the foreign trade-mark. The American product lacks quality, says this report, because we do not have the right kind of clay and do not put beauty into our designs.
Americans are apt to boast of the immensity of their wheat and corn crops, but only a few years ago the value of the industrial art products of France exceeded that of a bumper American wheat crop.
Having been awakened somewhat by the European war, the American manufacturer has been entertaining a vision of a better and wider market for his products. He has begun to realize that he must begin to study the art side of his business if he is to engage in the commercial scramble into which the starved European industries will plunge at the end of the war. The love of beauty —whether it be on canvas, in woman, or
in the manufactured article—is inherent in the Spanish-speaking nations of South America, a fact which has been ignored too long by the American industries. This is the first attempt by any State to lend concrete assistance to the exporter who has designs on the South American trade. On every hand there is plenty of evidence that the American public is to be treated to an awakened national conscience as far as the development of art in industry is concerned.
At some time not far distant Minnesota plans to build a great art school, which will be founded on the idea of making art the common possession of all the people. The art commission will serve as a clearinghouse for the fine and industrial arts, standing ready to find a market for everything worth while produced by Minnesota artists, whether they be painters or brickmakers. Just now the commission is lending its assistance to the preparation of programmes for civic gatherings, an extensive educational programme being conducted with the aid of the State club-women.
A concrete illustration of how art has been put to work in Minnesota is the lacemaking industry among the foreign-born women. There are in Minnesota many
thousands of women who came from Vienna and Old World art centres as are found in Sweden, Norway, Bohemia, Russia, and central Europe. Because of inability to find a worth-while market for their fine laces, these women had allowed the industry in which their mothers and grandmothers were engaged to die out with them or to become commercialized in a cheap fashion. The women in the smaller towns had formed the habit of exchanging their laces for groceries and other supplies, receiving only meagre credit for their handiwork. The result was it soon deteriorated in quality and quantity. They saw no reason for spending their hard-earned money to buy new patterns from their old homes, and lace-making became almost a lost art among the younger women, especially those born in this country. One day Director Flagg dropped off a train at New Ulm, a quiet little town overlooking the Minnesota River, in search of latent industries into which he could inject new life with art as the medium.
To the foreign-born women of the town, once a well-known lace-making centre, he made the proposition of State aid, which aroused new aspirations and hopes. Director Flagg promised the aid of the State in obtaining better grades of materials and more attractive patterns from the Old World art centres, providing the women would agree to re-engage in the lace-making business in their homes, as they did before coming to America. The commission promised to find a market for better-qualiticd laces, and later collected samples of the best work of these women for a State exhibition. The department-store buyers and women fanciers of laces were surprised to find that such artistic laces were being made inside the State and became interested in the new industry. The result was that everything of merit was snapped up by department stores and well-to-do women. Cash prizes were also awarded to the makers of the best designs, and "with the money received from this sale most of the women sent to their old homes for the more costly patterns and materials and began making even more beautiful laces. The women of one small colony cleared one thousand dollars in one winter season by working a few hours each evening at lace-making, and their profits have increased each year as the demand for these domestic laces has continued to grow.
Perhaps the most encouraging feature of the attempt to put an Old World industry on its feet in Minnesota is the interest being taken in their mothers' work by the young girls of New Ulm, and other centres of foreign-born people, who preferred careers as bundle-wrappers and cash-girls at precarious salaries in large department stores to following the old-fashioned business of making laces at home. These young women began to find they could make more money at home making laces and that lace-making had been a recognized instead of a despised industry. The result has been that fewer young women are leaving the small towns for the cities. The addition of hundreds of young women to the lace-making colonies has justified the faith of the art commission in believing that this home industry could be conducted quite as profitably in Minnesota as in Europe.
Minnesotans have been shown other practical ways in which art can be put to work for the public good. Four years ago the commission inaugurated a contest for the best design for a rural home to cost no more than three thousand five hundred dollars complete, hoping thereby to lay the founda
tion for a campaign to encourage the building of better homes on the farms of the State. Fifty leading architects of the State competed for the honors, and those who failed to win presented their ideas to the State free of charge. The commission, with this wealth of material, made arrangements to make it available for the use of every farmer home-builder in the State. For a fee of three and a half dollars, which barely covered the cost of blue-prints, any citizen of the State is able to obtain a complete set of any of these fifty plans.
More than one hundred thousand copies of plans of Minnesota's model farm home have been circulated around the State, and the entire world, in fact.
The Minnesota model farm home was designed chiefly for the farmer's wife, who has been the most neglected individual in the nation until recent times. Every comfort and convenience enjoyed by the city housewife has been transplanted to the country, and the farm wife no longer works in a dingy, dark, inconvenient home which makes a poor comparison indeed when set up alongside the average big red barn on the farm.
Another campaign was inaugurated to interest citizens living in villages and suburban communities in building more artistic homes, and contests were held to obtain model village and suburban homes which could be built by the average man without stretching his purse to the breaking-point. Later, similar contests resulted in the adoption of model farmyards and landscaping plans for city homes.
There is hardly an occupation or calling in Minnesota into which art cannot reach out and better conditions, in the opinion of the commission, and gradually public indifference and scepticism to the development of a common, every-day art is disappearing. Had the Minnesota farmer been told a few years ago that art could increase the value of his corn crop he would have laughed the informant to scorn. But when he began building better and more comfortable farm homes, he found his farm-hands and his own sons and daughters more content to remain on the farm, and all were more willing workers. And the discovery that two ears of corn were growing where one grew before is the surest evidence that art is coming into its own, on the farm, at least. And there is the place where it has been most needed. O. K. Gf.yer.