4 AMERICAN HOMES AND GARDENS 
January, 1909 
Monthly Comment 
HE artist brings to the adornment and equip- 
gS LZ ment of the house a special feeling for 
aN R@pid) artistic fitness and a personal note of com- 
fort and achievement that places the houses 
designed and furnished under such auspices 
in a class of their own, wholly apart from 
the upholsterer’s or machine-designed house 
with which many people are not only forced to be content 
but in which they actually delight. This is one of the strange 
things in household furnishing, that so few know how to do 
it properly, and so many are satisfied with the most unsatis- 
fying objects. A richly furnished room is, for example, 
very highly thought of in many quarters. This means, in 
most cases, a gathering together of a most elaborate collec- 
tion of furniture. ‘Tables, chairs, cabinets and ornaments 
of the most wonderful architecture and most sumptuous 
style are arranged in spaces that, as likely as not, are scarce - 
big enough for a single one. The room is thronged with 
costly objects, objects costly, for the most part, from the 
material of which they are composed, and from their size, 
or, perchance, their acknowledged rarity; pictures whose art 
qualities are apt to be measured by the splendor of their 
gilded frames are hung on walls of expensive silk; wherever 
display can be introduced it is brought in to be looked at or 
to be in the way. Everything, in short, that can be put into 
a room is placed within it; and the elect, and may be some 
outsiders, are forthwith invited to come in and enjoy the 
spectacle. 
Tuis, of course, is gaudiness and nothing else. “The most 
richly furnished room in the world contains no furniture 
whatever; but its walls were frescoed by the immortal genius 
of Raphael. For four centuries the genius of that wonder- 
ful artist has been worshiped in the Stanza della Segnatura, 
which, after all, is but a room, perfectly adapted to room 
utilization, but glorified beyond compare with the master- 
pieces painted on its walls. And in the grand old days of 
the Renaissance there were many such splendidly and richly 
furnished rooms that were rich and splendid because the 
rooms themselves were so, and not because they were crowded 
with costly pieces of furniture more wonderful to look upon 
than available for use. Such rooms are no longer built and 
decorated now, and are, indeed, quite outside the possibili- 
ties of the American house, ordinary or extraordinary. But 
it is an advantage to refer to such apartments as quite de- 
stroying the modern upholsterer’s claims to pre-eminence in 
household decoration. 
THE plain fact is that most modern houses are essentially 
shoppy. And they are necessarily so. Very few people can 
give to the problem of household decoration and furnishing 
the time and thought it requires, or even so much as possess 
the knowledge requisite to success in such matters. Depend- 
ence is, therefore, placed on the shops. Mighty attractive 
many of these places are, and fascinating and beautiful are 
much of their contents. We can not get along without them, 
for where else would we buy anything? This question re- 
veals the whole secret of the inability of the modern com- 
mercial house to solve the problem of household decoration in 
an artistic way. They are commercial. They exist for the 
purpose of selling goods. They are maintained that their 
owners and proprietors may reap profits for themselves. 
The shop that sells the most goods is the most successful. In 
other words, the monetary returns constitute the criterion 
of success. 
Now the artist, when he undertakes a problem, is actuated 
by quite different motifs. He must, it is true, be paid for 
his work, and it is most right and proper that he should be 
paid, and liberally too. But his initial idea is to create some- 
thing. Art is not manufactured, but created, and the artist 
both knows and feels that his own share in this creation is 
a personal and important one: he knows that success in one 
piece of work will bring him opportunities for other work; 
and he realizes, as the commercial man can never do, that his 
personal reputation for excellence or superiority or artistic 
supremacy—call it what you will—is his most precious and 
valuable asset. 
THE artistic ideal is, therefore, directly opposed to the 
commercial ideal. The commercial man does the best he 
can, but his measure of success is the volume of his sales. Ask 
any merchant and he will immediately proceed to measure the 
results of his last year by this very available thermometer. 
If he sells beautiful things, and thus helps to distribute beauty 
throughout his world, it is because he finds it profitable to do 
so. The artist has other things to think about and other 
ideals by which the standard of his success is measured. His 
one object in life is to create works of art; and these, not 
mere passing fancies of the moment, but creations of per- 
manent merit by which he will be known and respected and 
on which his fame will rest. His is a personal work, too, 
endowed with his personality, alive with individuality, per- 
meated with thought and the result of an honest endeavor 
to attain the highest possible standard. 
WHEN a mind so attuned to lofty thought applies itself 
to the practical problems of household decorations the re- 
sults are immeasurably superior to the machine work turned 
out by the mill-shops and commercial emporiums. How can 
it be otherwise when one seeks results, and the other 
sales? So the artist need bring only his own genius to his 
problem, be it as simple or as complicated as it may, and 
the solution will, in every case, be beautiful. This is not 
only the true secret of household decoration, but the only 
one. ‘lhere is no mystery about it, save personality. ‘There 
is no need for display, only for taste. There is no need for 
costly furniture nor to bring in high-priced decorative ad- 
juncts; all that is required is a sense of the beautiful and 
the work is done. 
THE artist’s home is not necessarily rich and elaborate; as 
a matter of fact it is oftenest quite the reverse; but it can be 
depended upon to be charming and interesting, a personal 
home, rich in artistic association, harmoniously arranged, 
and speaking aloud in every part of the individual art of the 
designer who has created it. ‘The artist knows when a chair 
is good in itself and when it is available for a certain place. 
He knows color and form; he is familiar with combinations 
and arrangements; he has taste and discretion. All these 
things go to make a beautiful home, and are qualities and 
properties that can not be purchased by the yard nor bought 
by the pound. Hence the great and delightful interest of 
the artist’s home. It need not be rich nor costly, it may not 
be large nor elaborate; but it may be notable in the truest 
sense of the word, since no effort has been made to impress 
by luxurious fittings nor by elaborate furnishings. It repre- 
sents art, in the true sense, as applied to household problems. 
This,is something that is not only rarely seen, but whose true 
value is little known. A glimpse or two into an artist’s home 
will demonstrate this quality. 
