MARINE ART
Great Encouragement to Artists In response to the enthusiasm which greeted the "Marine Art Lives!" exhibition sponsored by the National Society at the National Boat Show in New York in January, we are beginning a Marine Art Section in SEA HISTORY. We dare borrow from John Paul Jones's thundering recruitment poster ("Great Encouragement to Seamen!") to announce this, for it is planned as a thing by and for marine artists-in which the rest of us may share. SEA HISTORY now becomes the only journal presenting this important aspect of our maritime heritage on a continuing basis. We are sensible of the considerable responsibility entailed in this, and we look to all hands to help out. The Marine Art section will focus on works of artists past and present, and also encompass the fine arts of modelmaking, scrimshaw, ships-in-bottles, as well as, we hope, some of the illuminating children's art that we see flowing from school and family visits to seaports and museums. We begin with an appreciation of the importance of hull form and the behavior of the sea by George Campbell, who is an historical naval architect as well as a marine artist.
Marine Art Association Proposed A number of marine artists are getting together to form an American Association of Marine Art, on similar lines to the Royal Academy of Marine Art in England. This movement began in response to the widespread interest generated by the "Marine Art Lives!" exhibition. Artists interested in this proposal are invited to send in their thoughts and comments with a stamped, self-addressed envelope to Maryanne Murphy at the National Society. MARYANNE MURPHY
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A Sublime Satisfaction By George Campbell, M.R.I.N.A.
Architect of the restorations of the Cutty Sark in Greenwich, England, and the Wavertree at South Street in New York, George Campbell serves as member of the Advisory Council of the National Society. He works as exhibition designer at the American Museum of Natural History and lives with his wife Peggy in Brooklyn, overlooking the shipping of the East River-portal to this side of the Western Ocean as the River Mersey, on which he grew up, is portal to the other side.-ED. In these days, when apparently anything goes, a multitude of sins may be covered under the term "marine painting." What is one to make of a prize-winning painting that shows a grey fence with a greyish patch of sky above, and a face peering towards the viewer through a hole in the fence? It's entitled: "Head Against the Sea." That makes it a marine painting, judged the best in the National Academy. To this one is irresistibly impelled to propose the next step, to eliminate the picture entirely, as has been indeed accomplished by certain artful artists in other fields. But those of us who love or are interested in ships and the sea demand something rational to materialize our thoughts or desires. We are not easily fooled and would not lightly take liberties with the sea, or its ships, or boats. My earliest recollection of seeing ships dates back towards the end of the First World War, with the return of two gallant ferryboats to the Mersey from the blockading of Zeebruge. my viewpoint was the window of my family home which had an elevated grandstand view directly on to the anchorage where Cunarders and other liners would await a berth at Liverpool landing stage, or a rising tide to enter dock. These big liners would swing around slowly with the turn of tide and present a magnificent sight, changing to an end-on view and back to the opposite broadside revealing the beauty of their lines and counter sterns. Each vessel had its individuality of shape, which many of our townsfolk could identify readily even at a good distance, and the subtleties which imparted this individuality impressed me with their importance as I competed with fellow spectators at the river front in identifying a vessel entering the river. It was also fascinating to notice how a large outwardbound ship would create first a series of small regular waves along her
waterline, say six or seven, and then to watch them dissolve imperceptibly to five, four, three or less as maximum power was reached. Creating Ships It seemed only natural that in later
years, as giant cranes further up the river bank constantly swung and beckoned, I should enter the shipyard and partake in the great thrill of creating ships. It was an enthralling experience to join an army of men all sharing their brains and brawn in a common cause. Anyone who has witnessed the extraordinary care and love with which a hull is created, combining strict utility and economy with aesthetic beauty, could never knowingly betray it. The expres-¡ sion on the face of a senior designer as he sweeps in a waterline along the edge of a ship curve, stands back, eyes it, and then completes the run, is something to behold. It may be an everyday job of work, but one can see a sublime satisfaction revealing itself, and one itches to do the same oneself. This emphasis on the physical character of ships has remained with me always, and my hackles rise when it is blithely ignored in a painting. One can pick up hooks in which there are reproductions of famous sailing vessels, any one of which, although a pleasing artistic rendering in itself, bears little resemblance to the vessel named apart from the correct number of masts and sails. Their various titles could well be transposed without causing confusion. It was during my early years in a shipyard that I first began to take a serious and critical interest in marine paintings. An exhibition was staged in Liverpool of Jack Spurling's original paintings prepared. for the covers of the Blue Peter magazine. Their fresh coloring and overall size gave them quite a different feeling from the repeated reproductions one sees today where many predominating colors have become exaggerated. My knowledge of the technical aspects of these paintings was insufficient at the time to detract from an overall pleasure in these spirited and original compositions, a pleasure I still retain. Another artist whose works were available for viewing in the Liverpool area was Thomas Somerscales, who to me is still the marine artist "par excellence." His seascape studies in which the sea, the sky and the ship all had balanced emphasis, were a delight. The ship was rarely a named portrait, but the composition would be entitled for a mood, such as "Man Overboard" or "Off Valparaiso." An old friend of