BOOKS IN REVIEWJohn Bentley Mays put it, in a review<strong>of</strong> the exhibit <strong>of</strong> German ExpressionistPrints in the McMaster <strong>University</strong> Collection:"The difference between thenand now is in the quality <strong>of</strong> defiance,compassion and vigilance."And yet... although neo-expressionistscourt comparisons with their forerunners,it is, perhaps, a mistake to look for thesame urgency and idealism in their art.Perhaps by doing so the critic, not theartist, falls victim to the desire for Kandinsky'sfirst type <strong>of</strong> similarity. Perhapsby looking for the reassurance <strong>of</strong> thecomparatively confident Expressionism<strong>of</strong> the past, we reveal our own failures.Certainly I believe it wrong to say, asRobert Hughes did in "Upending theNew German Chic" in Time (1982),that the expressionist revival stands fornothing more than the artist's ability "tomultiply saleable relics" <strong>of</strong> the self.What encourages me about THESCREAM, and neo-Expressionism generally,is not its label, its promotion, oreven its revival <strong>of</strong> an earlier art. What isvaluable is its energy, audacity, promise.This art is meant to be paradoxical,parodie, and ironically self-reflective;that is why it turns upside down orscreams. To read First Draft's SCREAMat all is to be forced to re-think expectationsabout genre, decorum, artistic influence,and moral parameters <strong>of</strong> art — allold questions, <strong>of</strong> course, but ones <strong>of</strong> perennialvalue, especially in Canada whereart pundits can confidently dismiss neo-Expressionism as insincere because, unlikethe Germans, Canadians have nopast and no present cause for anxiety!THE SCREAM may not be great art,but neither is it "stillborn" retrieval. Asan example <strong>of</strong> 1980's neo-Expressionism,it casts an ironic eye on itself and uswhen, in a gesture parallel with Baselitz,and utterly unlike Munch, the "collaborators"remind us that after THESCREAM "what you make <strong>of</strong> the ensuingsilence is up to you."SHERRILL GRACETHREE MOVEMENTSJOAN MURRAY, ed. Daßodüs in Winter. TheLife and Letters <strong>of</strong> Pegi Nicol MacLeod,1904-194g. Penumbra Press, n.p."OWNING A WORK by Pegi Nicol is likesmelling daffodils in mid-winter" (GrahamMclnnes). Letters reveal their creatoras few other genres can do. Thepersonality, and something deeper, lurksin and between the lines. The letters <strong>of</strong>Pegi Nicol MacLeod show us a vital,warm, and exuberant spirit who becamea mature artist, yet always remained achild.This carefully edited volume consists<strong>of</strong> a short biography, plates <strong>of</strong> fifty-eightpaintings in black and white reproductions,photographs, notes, and a lengthybibliography. It forms a solid introductionto the life, the letters, and the art <strong>of</strong>a painter who deserves to be betterknown. MacLeod was a small-town girl,born Margaret Kathleen Nichol in Listowel,Ontario. She grew up in Ottawawhere she blossomed as something <strong>of</strong> anexotic in the staid, civil service city. Herbohemian spirit evoked her mother's hostility,and Pegi left home at nineteen forMontreal. In a solid, forty-page Introduction,Murray traces the life throughMontreal, Toronto, New York and Fredericton,to the early death from cancerin 1949. Pegi studied first at the OttawaArt School under Franklin Brownell,then at Montreal's Ecole des beaux-artswith Edwin Holgate. Friends and fellowstudents included Prudence Heward, LillianFreeman and Marion Scott. InMontreal in the 1920's, Pegi was part <strong>of</strong>a lively circle <strong>of</strong> intellectuals and artistswhich included the Scotts (Frank and
BOOKS IN REVIEWMarian), Wilder Penfield, Eugene Forsey,David Lewis, André Bieler, and KingGordon. Pegi and King were lovers inthe early 1930's before she met (andeventually married) Norman MacLeod.MacLeod was an engineer and a radicalleftist, a macho man with little regardfor art. Pegi tried to enter his world, buthe never embraced hers.The paintings, even in small black andwhite reproductions, form a better introductionto the artist than do the letters.Three self-portraits (1925-35) show agamin face with a wistful, rather hauntingexpression and enormous eyes. Menfound her fascinating. Some women consideredher ugly. Her face, like her paintings,has the beauty <strong>of</strong> animation, anexuberance and vitality which is echoedin the writing style. Nicol is an actionpainter, a realist who reflected the lifeshe saw around her, yet transformed itwith her imagination and vision. Thetitles <strong>of</strong> her paintings reflect her subjectsand her scope: Ottawa Street Scene,Tapisserie des Vaches, Chinatown Toronto,Suburban Sunday, New YorkTenement, School Garden Ottawa,Streets <strong>of</strong> New York, CWAC BeautyParlour, Pigeons, Slum Children, JaneReading.Jane was Nicol's daughter and onlychild, a source <strong>of</strong> wonder to the artist.The marriage was stormy, with longseparations and a chronic shortage <strong>of</strong>funds. The cost <strong>of</strong> painting suppliesalone, as Murray notes, must have beenhigh. In 1938 Nicol writes to Eric Brown,Director <strong>of</strong> the National Gallery, tothank him for introducing the Masseysto her work. They became her first patrons:"I would be glad if you wouldaccept to the Masseys for me, I put sucha heavy hand on any deal. I couldscarcely sleep when your letter arrivedand kept spending the money all nightlong, on paints and canvas and Jane.When morning came I had a pile <strong>of</strong> toysa mile high and roll after roll <strong>of</strong> canvas,all hand-prepared."Murray compares the charm <strong>of</strong> theletters to the way Nicol entered a room,"ebulliently, with an appealing, unstudiedfreshness." Certainly the writingis fresh — sometimes trivial, but nearlyalways charming. In 1941 Nicol writesto a friend in Fredericton, a city she hasjust left to return to New York:I still feel awfully full and haunted by N.B.. . . This is the German Section, a contrast,to the village — prosperous, domestic, anorgy <strong>of</strong> shops, restaurants, lots <strong>of</strong> sausage &beer and faces older than Methuseleh, earlyGerman paintings, Memling, Cranach, old,old, old. After Canada where children arejust bland healthy lumps, these over-civilizedcrones <strong>of</strong> seven are amusing. So instead<strong>of</strong> a sort <strong>of</strong> fairy tale existence, potterys,universities, in and out <strong>of</strong> Smith'sShops, I'm a hausfrau again. Can't say Imind.The letters catch Nicol's moods, fromjoy and high spirits to loneliness and depression."The sky is a hostile post cardblue and I feel rather depressed," shewrote to the Scotts in 1932. They alsoexpress her love <strong>of</strong> language. Of herwriting in general, Frank Scott said thatit "wove through its grammar like a stemthrough stones." Nicol was a poet andessayist as well as a painter. She describedher work as "a search for essentialbeauty within reality."Murray's critical and biographical Introductionhas its own charm. The languageis lively and very readable. Herassessment <strong>of</strong> Nicol's achievement is bothsympathetic and shrewd. Daffodils inWinter is balanced, thorough, and rarelydull.PATRICIA MORLEYI56
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