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Musical Iconography and Sketches
in the National Gallery:
Street Musicians by Lillian Freiman and
Orchestra Sketch by Pegi Nicol
by Francine Sarrasin
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Orchestra Sketch
by Pegi Nicol
Margaret Kathleen Nicol (Pegi Nicol) was born at Listowel, Ontario on 17 January 1904. She
studied with Franklin Brownell in Ottawa, then at the École des Beaux-Arts in Montreal. A landscape
entitled The Log Run won her a first prize in painting in 1931. She moved to New York City in
1937 with her husband Norman MacLeod, who obtained work there as an engineer. She returned to Canada
every summer, however, to teach at the University of New-Brunswick, where she also founded an art
centre. In addition, she belonged to a number of art associations. She died prematurely in February
1949, at the age of forty-five.
Musical inspiration does not have the resonance of a true leitmotiv in the work of Pegi
Nicol. The
theme of music belongs more rightfully to the large series of profoundly alive subjects typical of her
work; the artist's creative energies are expressed equally well through pictures of children's games,
street scenes, or musicians playing - for it is life itself that she is trying to set to paper. Music is
therefore but a happy pretext for an interpretation of life selected by the artist. Support for this
statement can be found in observations made on the subjects dealt with in her work and in experts'
commentaries. (7) The active presence of Pegi Nicol and her continual work within contemporary artistic
movements (8) enable us to situate her efforts in a context of complete accord with the artistic trends of
her times. We feel that her consciousness in the art world justifies an analysis of some influences and
tendencies. Although we do not wish to linger excessively over historical data, we cannot ignore the
impact of the interdisciplinary trend that had its heyday in the twenties.
The work we shall examine is neither titled nor dated. It is one of a series of four
Orchestra
Sketches (fig. 4) by Pegi Nicol, that portray the same portion of an orchestra. Is it perhaps
Carnegie Hall, which so inspired her compatriot and professional colleague, Lillian Freiman? The two
Canadian artists settled in New York around the same time, and it is not difficult to imagine them seeing
each other there, especially since they knew each other from student days in Montreal. It is entirely
possible that they both were given access to orchestra rehearsals. It certainly appears that the
viewpoint chosen by Pegi Nicol for her drawings is, if not that of another musician, at least an unusually
close one. (9) Thus we are led to consider the work by itself, to discover whatever
graphic and musical
combinations there may be, and to delve deeper into the tale it may have to tell.
It might be worthwhile to pause to consider our first, overall impression before proceeding with a
detailed analysis of the composition. This spontaneous first reaction does in fact play a certain role
in the appreciation of the work. There is something in this drawing: a hint of
expressionism. Nicol's
touch might even be said to contain contrasts as violent as those of German woodcuts; for is it not split
by extended, almost straight diagonals? If does not, of course, express the explosive tension of the
proponents of Expressionism - the right cheek of the flutist in our drawing is perhaps excessively extended,
but he is far from Munch's The Scream.
The expressionism of Pegi Nicol is immediate and seemingly without hidden intention. Accuracy might be
wanting in the musicians features and postures, and the spatial organization may
contradict that of a true orchestra, but this is because it is expression
that is prized, even to the detriment of resemblance. We see a study of
mimics that is not in the least exaggerated. The choice of wind instruments
as initial pretext for the picture focuses attention on the mouth. But
how can the lower part of a face communicate as clearly and vividly as
the eyes' piercing gaze? Can an instrument, in its own way, compensate
for this lack of communication? It must be recognized that the mouth here
is only a means by which to capture the viewer's attention and focus it
on the moment of blowing. The blowing is animated by a fundamental energy
directly associated with life itself. Wind instruments act as extensions
of the human voice and of the entire person - throat, thorax, chest, and
mouth.
Orchestra Sketch is presented in the
form of a portrait. Its physical organization draws the eye of the viewer
along vertically and, following the tradition of portraiture, it is placed
within an upright rectangle. Paradoxically, neither the people nor the
instruments in this portrait appear to be really important: there are
no looks or eyes, and there is a head in an imposing, central position - with its back to us!
All the evidence points to a denial of strict portraiture,
and it may be presumed that it is the action of blowing that is the focus.
It is the moment of sound that we see swirling around the figures in
the drawing.
By examining various motifs used by the artist,
we hope to delve deeper into the emphasis given to the instant of blowing and in so doing
come to appreciate the scope and importance accorded
to music itself.
Access to the work is facilitated visually
by the placement of the flutist. The position of his shoulder allows a
good enough view of the central area in the lower part of the drawing that
one can follow the score along with him! Once again the viewer feels captivated
by the image, involved almost despite himself . He feels as if he had surreptitiously
stepped into the scene, enticed by the solid outlines of the flutist.
This gentleman is quite securely positioned, resting his elbow against
the very edge of the paper. Just as the sound of the flute is completely
distinct from the heavier and more sober music produced by the other instruments
in the orchestra, so our flutist stands out from his plastic environment
by being so strongly drawn, with such liberal use of black. Even the colouring -
discreet though it is - seems to have been reserved for him. The beige-brown
tints of his hair tend to be diluted when applied to other motifs.
Of all orchestral instruments, the flute and
piccolo are highest in pitch. There is some discrepancy between the playing of a flute in
real life and its representation by Pegi Nicol, who has
the flute pointing downward. Similarly, if this instrument always produces
its melody in a high register, why is the drawing of the flutist so heavily
done? After all, he takes up the lower three-quarters of the picture. Only
the reality of music can counteract this paradox. The presence of the flute
in the foreground brings it closer to the viewer and almost accords it
a solo role. The flute and its music, image and sound, become detached from the rest of the scene.
Next Page | flutist's left hand
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