Barye; Life and Works of Antoine Louis Barye, Sculptor: With Eight-six Wood Cuts Artotypes and Prints, in Memory of an Exhibition of His Bronzes, Paintings, and Water-colors Held at New-York in Aid of the Fund of His Monument at Paris

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Barye Monument Association at New York, 1889 - Artists - 158 pages
The volume offered by the Barye Monument Association to those interested in the fund for a monumnet to Antoine Louis Barye at Paris is the memorial of a very uncommon event. The United States has no sentimental feeling with regard to France as the fatherland, like that which a large number of American cherish toward Great Britain and Ireland. Bonds of amity were knit in the past, and others have been formed since France became a republic ; but the difference of tongue more than offsets these. Therefore great merit must exist in the artist whose work exercises enough fascination to set Americans on the task of gathering funds for a monument that is to stand three thousand miles away across the ocean. It is often said that art has no country. But when, before this, has a foreign land raised a monument to a sculptor of modern times? -- Preface note.
 

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Page 41 - ... them near the woods of honey, On an island forest-covered. " Fair Mielikki, woodland hostess, Tapio's most cunning daughter, Took the fragments from the sea-side. Took the white wool from the waters, Sewed the hair and wool together, Laid the bundle in her basket, Basket made from bark of birch-wood, Bound with cords the magic bundle ; With the chains of gold she bound it To the pine-tree's topmost branches. There she rocked the thing of magic, Rocked to life the tender baby, Mid the blossoms...
Page 41 - Not the mountain lynx, nor serpent, Comes, however, to our dwellings; The Illustrious is coming, Pride and beauty of the forest, 'Tis the Master comes among us, Covered with his friendly fur-robe. Welcome, Otso, welcome, Light-foot, Welcome, Loved-one from the glenwood! If the mountain guest is welcome, Open wide the gates of entry; If the bear is thought unworthy, Bar the doors against the stranger.
Page 41 - Bound with cords the magic bundle; With the chains of gold she bound it To the pine-tree's topmost branches. There she rocked the thing of magic, Rocked to life the tender baby, Mid the blossoms of the pine-tree, On the fir-top set with needles; Thus the young bear well was nurtured, Thus was sacred Otso cradled On the honey-tree of Northland, In the middle of the forest. "Sacred Otso grew and flourished, Quickly grew with graceful movements, Short of feet, with crooked ankles, Wide of mouth and...
Page 72 - Ruggier si va volgendo, e mille baci figge nel petto e negli occhi vivaci. 113. Non pił tenne la via, come propose prima, di circundar tutta la Spagna; ma nel propinquo lito il destrier pose, dove entra in mar pił la minor Bretagna. Sul lito un bosco era di querce ombrose...
Page 119 - They knew of course that Barye was well thought of under the Napoleonic revival of 1852. But they were also certain that as in the origin he had sprung from the people, so to the last he had remained a people's, without ever becoming a popular, man. His head had never been turned by honors and favors from the great.
Page 87 - M. Вагуе is assuredly one of the greatest artists that France possesses; one of those also who have been the most roughly tried in the course of a life fertile in masterpieces of a deep and enduring character.
Page 41 - ... Would not render goodly service. "Grew a fir-tree on the mountain, Grew a stately pine in Northland, And the fir had silver branches, Bearing golden cones abundant; These the sylvan maiden gathered, Teeth and claws of these she fashioned In the jaws and feet of Otso, Set them for the best of uses. Then she freed her new-made creature, Let the Light-foot walk and wander, Let him lumber through the marshes, Let him amble through the forest, Roll upon the plains and pastures; Taught him how to walk...
Page 41 - ... thee the Honey-eater? Does the hostess of the woodlands, Give to thee the lynx and adder, Since thou comest home rejoicing, Playing, singing, on thy snow-shoes?" Wainamoinen, ancient minstrel, Gave this answer to his people: "For his songs I caught the adder, Caught the serpent for his wisdom; Therefore do I come rejoicing, Singing, playing, on my snow-shoes. Not the mountain lynx, nor serpent, Comes, however, to our dwellings; The Illustrious is coming, Pride and beauty of the forest, 'Tis the...

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