the milk being cold, Miss Carter,’ said Mr Everard.
‘This is rather a bachelor establishment, I’m afraid.’
‘Thank you,’ said Miss Carter, ‘I like it better like that. Only a little,
please.’
‘So that we would expect,’ said Bledyard, ‘to find the early Church the early
Church in two minds upon the matter of religious painting and sculpture.
However, it seems to be the case that the fathers felt no special impediment
impediment to representational art, and very soon in the history of the Church
we find worship and praise naturally taking the form of representation, as in
the noble mosaics at Ravenna.’
‘Ah yes, how very fine they are!’ said Mr Everard. ‘Have you been to Ravenna,
Miss Carter?’
‘Yes, I often went there with my father,’ said Miss Carter. ‘I know the mosaics
very well.’
‘The early Church the early Church,’ said Bledyard, accepting his coffee-cup
from Mr Everard, ‘does not seem to have made any distinction distinction
between the representation of the works of nature and the representation of
human forms. So near so near in time to the source of light, their vision was
informed by a reverence which penetrated even their method of depicting the
human face. However, when we are overtaken by the secular spirit of the
Renaissance, we find we find a more exclusive interest in the human shape as
such, conjoined alas with a total loss of that insight and that reverence.’
‘What do you think of the coffee this time, Bill?’ said Mr Everard. ‘A bit
better, isn’t it?’
‘It’s very good, sir,’ said Mor, pouring the insipid stuff hastily down his
throat.
‘Are you suggesting,’ said Miss Carter to Bledyard, ‘that we should treat the
representation of the human form in some way quite differently from the
presentation of other things?’
‘As you know,’ said Bledyard, ‘we find it natural to make the distinction. Only
we do not make it absolutely absolutely enough. When confronted with an object
which is not a human being we must of course treat it reverently. We must, if
we paint it, attempt to show what it is like in itself, and not treat it as a
symbol of our own moods and wishes. The great painter the great painter is he
who is humble enough in the presence of the object to attempt merely to
show what the object is like. But this merely, in painting, is
everything.’
How I agree with you! said Miss Carter. Distantly from the school the
two-fifteen bell was heard ringing.
‘But,’ said Bledyard, ‘when we are in the presence of another human being, we
are not confronted simply by an object — ’ He paused. ‘We are confronted by
God.’
‘Are you teaching the first period, Bill?’ said Mr Everard. ‘I’m sorry, I
should have asked you earlier.’
‘No, I’m not, in fact,’ said Mor.
‘Do you mean that we ought not to paint other human beings? asked Miss Carter.
‘Each must find out his own way,’ said Bledyard. ‘If it were possible, ah, if
it were possible to treat a head as if it were a spherical material object! But
who is great enough to do this?’
‘I don’t see why one should attempt to treat a head as a spherical material
object,’ said Mor. ‘We know what a head is, and we know what it is to
understand another person by looking into his eyes. I don’t see why the painter
should be obliged to forget all this.’
‘Who is worthy to understand another person?’ said Bledyard. He spoke with no
more and no less intensity than at the start. He answered Mor’s words, but his
eyes were fixed upon Miss Carter. ‘Upon an ordinary material thing we can look
with reverence, wondering simply at its being. But when we look upon a human
face, we interpret it by what we are ourselves. And what are we?’ Bledyard
spread out his two hands, one of which held the untasted cup of coffee.
‘I agree with much of what you say,’ said Miss Carter, speaking quickly before
Bledyard could interrupt her. ‘Our paintings are a
‘This is rather a bachelor establishment, I’m afraid.’
‘Thank you,’ said Miss Carter, ‘I like it better like that. Only a little,
please.’
‘So that we would expect,’ said Bledyard, ‘to find the early Church the early
Church in two minds upon the matter of religious painting and sculpture.
However, it seems to be the case that the fathers felt no special impediment
impediment to representational art, and very soon in the history of the Church
we find worship and praise naturally taking the form of representation, as in
the noble mosaics at Ravenna.’
‘Ah yes, how very fine they are!’ said Mr Everard. ‘Have you been to Ravenna,
Miss Carter?’
‘Yes, I often went there with my father,’ said Miss Carter. ‘I know the mosaics
very well.’
‘The early Church the early Church,’ said Bledyard, accepting his coffee-cup
from Mr Everard, ‘does not seem to have made any distinction distinction
between the representation of the works of nature and the representation of
human forms. So near so near in time to the source of light, their vision was
informed by a reverence which penetrated even their method of depicting the
human face. However, when we are overtaken by the secular spirit of the
Renaissance, we find we find a more exclusive interest in the human shape as
such, conjoined alas with a total loss of that insight and that reverence.’
‘What do you think of the coffee this time, Bill?’ said Mr Everard. ‘A bit
better, isn’t it?’
‘It’s very good, sir,’ said Mor, pouring the insipid stuff hastily down his
throat.
‘Are you suggesting,’ said Miss Carter to Bledyard, ‘that we should treat the
representation of the human form in some way quite differently from the
presentation of other things?’
‘As you know,’ said Bledyard, ‘we find it natural to make the distinction. Only
we do not make it absolutely absolutely enough. When confronted with an object
which is not a human being we must of course treat it reverently. We must, if
we paint it, attempt to show what it is like in itself, and not treat it as a
symbol of our own moods and wishes. The great painter the great painter is he
who is humble enough in the presence of the object to attempt merely to
show what the object is like. But this merely, in painting, is
everything.’
How I agree with you! said Miss Carter. Distantly from the school the
two-fifteen bell was heard ringing.
‘But,’ said Bledyard, ‘when we are in the presence of another human being, we
are not confronted simply by an object — ’ He paused. ‘We are confronted by
God.’
‘Are you teaching the first period, Bill?’ said Mr Everard. ‘I’m sorry, I
should have asked you earlier.’
‘No, I’m not, in fact,’ said Mor.
‘Do you mean that we ought not to paint other human beings? asked Miss Carter.
‘Each must find out his own way,’ said Bledyard. ‘If it were possible, ah, if
it were possible to treat a head as if it were a spherical material object! But
who is great enough to do this?’
‘I don’t see why one should attempt to treat a head as a spherical material
object,’ said Mor. ‘We know what a head is, and we know what it is to
understand another person by looking into his eyes. I don’t see why the painter
should be obliged to forget all this.’
‘Who is worthy to understand another person?’ said Bledyard. He spoke with no
more and no less intensity than at the start. He answered Mor’s words, but his
eyes were fixed upon Miss Carter. ‘Upon an ordinary material thing we can look
with reverence, wondering simply at its being. But when we look upon a human
face, we interpret it by what we are ourselves. And what are we?’ Bledyard
spread out his two hands, one of which held the untasted cup of coffee.
‘I agree with much of what you say,’ said Miss Carter, speaking quickly before
Bledyard could interrupt her. ‘Our paintings are a