How to Show Pictures to Children/Chapter 6
VI
PRACTICAL SUGGESTIONS TO THE MOTHER FOR
THE CHILD’S PICTURE EDUCATION
To surround the child with good pictures chosen from subjects of greatest interest to him and in sufficient variety, to train his eye gradually in artistic discrimination and color feeling, to awaken his sense of joy in beauty,—this has been the burden of my little preachment. So may we wisely foster a love of art which will delight and enrich his life. The mother who has these aims in view always welcomes eagerly any helps towards carrying them out. Story-telling and the game of posing I have described at some length as two important picture pleasures of the home and school. It still remains to make a few practical suggestions to mothers who are anxious to provide every advantage for the child.
To begin with, the nursery decorations are of prime importance. The place should be a veritable picture gallery of delight to the little folks. For a child’s symmetrical development, there should be as much variety as possible in the selections, both in subject and treatment. Delightful as are Sir Joshua’s children, and beautiful as is the Madonna theme, the nursery should not be all Sir Joshuas and Madonnas. Where two Madonna pictures are hung they should represent quite dissimilar ideals: the Chair Madonna contrasted with the Sistine, an Italian work with a German, or an old master with some modern picture. In methods of arrangement, some of the kindergarten ideas may be borrowed to advantage, as they are ingenious and practical. A frieze on the level of the child’s eyes, made of separate prints and changed from time to time, is a pretty thing. Also a burlap screen on which pictures may be fastened temporarily. The color element should be decidedly prominent but should be carefully studied to harmonize with the scheme of decoration. The bright, crude prints once regarded as peculiarly adapted to children have given place to artistic process work in soft tints and low key, which the child soon learns to prefer. Anything that is good in itself may be pressed into service, however cheap the form, post-cards in harmonious colors, magazine supplements, artistic calendars, and what-not. But with all the cheap and transient material, let us have one truly great thing as a fixture in the nursery, as an inspiring influence to follow one from the cradle to the grave. A Madonna and Child, St. Michael and the Dragon, the Boy Christ in the Temple, the Children of the Shell, or the Guardian Angel are especially good for this purpose. For other subjects consult the lists of animal, child and story pictures. If the house is too small for a distinctive nursery, the living-room should contain at least one conspicuous picture which is of special interest to the child. One of Millet’s subjects makes an excellent all-around family favorite.
Illustrated children’s books should be chosen with great care. It is false economy to buy crude, poor books from the bargain counters in order to spend more money on toys and other less important nursery furnishings. A really good illustrated book is copyrighted and commands a good price, as it should, but it is worth the cost. Happy the nursery possessing any of Boutet de Monvel’s priceless volumes, or Walter Crane’s illustrated fairy tales, or Kate Greenaway’s lovely designs.[1]
Not the least attractive of illustrated nursery volumes are the children’s scrapbooks of their own making. For this purpose the material should be accumulated gradually, as a delightful pursuit, the mother gently directing the collection that it may consist of really good things. It is best not to draw the lines too sharply to discourage a child, but so far as possible weed out inferior pictures from time to time. A scrapbook of miscellaneous pictures is best adapted to the little ones, but as children grow older they are more interested to specialize in their collections. Definite subjects may be chosen for their books: animals, child figures, mythology, chivalry, history, Italian art, American art, Bible story, the life of Christ, famous beauties, authors, royalties and so on. A very pleasing idea for boys and girls bearing historical names, or names of saints, is to find pictures of their famous prototypes. The Georges may look for 
Never throw away a good picture. A large box or drawer may be set apart for the purpose and the children taught to carry thither every print or card that falls into their hands, and which for the moment they do not know where to place. From time to time the contents may be examined and sorted. Some of the pictures will do for one kind of scrapbook and some for another. Some may be laid between the pages of books, as extra illustrations. Your books of history, travel, and biography may be greatly enriched in this way by portraits and views collected from various sources. Some of the tiny pictures may be put together for doll’s scrapbooks. Some may be mounted on cards for Christmas or birthday gifts, decorated with appropriate inscriptions—or quotations from poetry. Growing boys and girls should be encouraged to fill their own rooms with pictures of their own choosing. Even if they make mistakes, the experience will help towards forming their taste. They usually get together a medley of posters, souvenir programs, college pennants, valentines, and snapshot photographs. But in the midst let us see that they have some really good picture which has come as a Christmas or birthday gift. Some strong and interesting heads for a boy’s room are Michelangelo’s David, Rembrandt’s Officer, and Frans Hals’s Laughing Cavalier. A girl of fine feeling likes the heads now commonly separated out by photographers from famous compositions of old masters (Luini, Perugino, Raphael, Titian, etc.); Angels, Saints, or Madonnas. Burne-Jones’s Flamma Vestalis, or Rossetti’s Blessed Damozel are also favorites. Other subjects of suitable kinds for our young folks’ rooms are suggested in the various lists scattered through these chapters.
The practice of taking our children to art museums and exhibitions is one which cannot be too often urged upon parents. It is worth making a great effort and even going a long distance from time to time to afford the child this advantage.[2] Such a visit must be made a genuine treat,—not a disguised lesson,—planned and talked of beforehand as a festive occasion. Naturally it is a part of the festivity to have a car-ride and a luncheon. The first object is to get impressions, and as the whole atmosphere of the place is unique, it cannot fail to produce some effect upon the imagination. One need not feel discouraged if the children come away without having apparently learned anything. A long time after they may refer to something you supposed they did not notice. A second visit brings a pleasant sense of familiarity. They enjoy recognizing something they saw before, and look at it now a bit more attentively. Little by little you may bring them around to look at your own favorites, or draw their attention to the best things. But you must begin diplomatically and bide your time. If a child is going to enjoy himself, you must not be too officious in leading the way. If you say, “Come, look at this,” he may hang back a little. But if you suddenly leave him and start off on your own account to look at some picture, he is pretty sure to follow. There is absolutely no use in deciding beforehand what pictures you are going to show a child, or what he will like best. The one thing you can count on is that he will surprise you. I remember the first time I took a small boy to the Boston Art Museum bent on educational ends. I had hard work to get him out of the Japanese Garden, and as soon as he had dutifully followed me through the picture gallery he wished to return to this enchanted spot. A little friend whom I took to the American Old Masters room, for the express purpose of seeing the George and Martha Washington portraits, was so entranced with the antique pianos that he cast but a single languid glance at the Father of his country. But he surprised me quite as much when we were hurrying through the next room, where I was sure there was nothing to interest him, by pausing before the great Velasquez, the Prince Baltasar and Dwarf, with sudden decisive approval, “That’s a nice picture.” And so it is. After all, what does it matter what the child likes best, pianos, pictures, or what-not, so long as it is something in this fairyland of art which will make him want to come again? That is the great desideratum. A picture gallery on a free day is a delightful resort for children. One can pick up many chance acquaintances there. The choosing game almost always meets a response. I have sometimes managed to make friends very quickly with stray young visitors by proposing that we all walk around slowly, and choose the picture we like best. The Modern Masters room at the Boston Museum has many favorites. I have seen boys there quickly choose Regnault’s Horses of Achilles, the Boy with the Hurdy-Gurdy, and Tarbell’s beautiful portrait of children on horseback.
The use of the camera opens a valuable opportunity for training boys and girls in matters of art. The young photographer wants to learn to make pictures, and his experiments duplicate in a far-off way the experience of the great artists. His first care is to get the image in the right place on the plate. If he is taking a house, he must have enough sky above it, enough grass in the foreground, and enough space on each side to look well. Repeated attempts show him what different effects he gets by changing the distance and the point of view. He begins to realize that a landscape painter has a reason for every tree and rock in his picture. When there are figures to photograph, the arrangement of the lines, the position of the hands, the turn of the head, and the focus of the eyes are all points to notice. If the amateur is really anxious to do good work, the pictures of the masters suddenly become very interesting to him. The Raphaels, Titians, and Rembrandts, once regarded as very dull and grown-up subjects, are found worthy the study of every aspiring young photographer. What better arrangement for a mother holding a baby than in the Granduca Madonna (Raphael)? What pose more graceful than that of the Man with the Glove (Titian)? And when was a group about a table more beautifully planned than in the Syndics of the Cloth Guild (Rembrandt)? The young people whose camera work teaches them to appreciate such pictures have made an excellent beginning in art study.
The amateur’s artistic progress depends very much upon the help of parents. Indiscriminate praise is almost as bad as indifference. Sympathetic criticism is just what is needed. The right-minded boy or girl is glad to learn how the work can be bettered.
In a home adorned with good works of art, where all the family are familiar with pictures, many little picture games may be invented to play with the children. There is one in which each by turn describes a picture for the others to guess the name. A half-hour of this easy guessing is very pleasant while sitting on the piazza in the dark of summer nights. The game is made harder when the mother describes an altogether new picture, and the children listen intently in order to identify it among a mixed collection of picture postals and prints brought forth at the close of the description. Mothers will also find that a bedtime picture may occasionally be substituted for a bedtime story, the picture being vividly described, not actually seen. The love of pictures, like the love of books and music, binds parents and children together in delightful intimacy, and will permeate all the home intercourse.
- ↑ Among present-day illustrators, Jessie Wilcox Smith, Millicent Sowerby and Arthur Rackham do charming work for children. A beautiful art treasure for children is Mrs. Isabel Anderson’s Great Sea Horse, a collection of fairy tales with illustrations designed by the mural painter, John Elliott.
- ↑ In the Metropolitan Museum, New York, delightful art lectures for children have drawn hundreds of juvenile visitors to the place and in Boston professional story-tellers are employed to conduct children’s parties through the Museum. But these public methods, valuable as they are, should not be substituted for the visits of parents, with their own children, to study the pictures together.