THE HOUSE OF A SYMBOLIST 
By Wolfram Waldschmidt 
A MAN with cultivated tastes is scarcely to be 
^ ^ envied. Every little defect in style—whether it 
has to do with works of art in the narrower sense of 
the word or in the more commonplace surroundings 
of' his daily life—gives him almost physical pain. In 
a room for example where the Philistine will idle 
comfortably the aesthete feels himself ill at ease: the 
stock pattern decoration of the sofa, the rose design 
of the tapestry, the purse-proud gilded clock, all op¬ 
press him keenly, the bright colors of the chromo on 
the wall hurt him, the gaudily gilded carving of the 
table makes him nervous, and the outlandish design 
of the chandelier drives him into sheer desperation. 
The artist at times feels himself wholly oppressed by 
his gross surroundings. It is not possible for him to 
work if he is continually forced to cast his eyes on a 
bronzed plaster jar or a big paper fan. Gladly, there¬ 
fore, does he furnish for himself an artistic paradise 
into which no discord of the barbarous outer world 
can force itself, and places about him treasures of art 
which accord with his own rare taste. Such sur¬ 
roundings naturally respond to the style of his own 
paintings or sculptures, d'he pre-Raphaelite Ros¬ 
setti fitted out his gloomy, ivy-grown dwelling with 
old chests, bronze lustres, crucihxes. Oriental vases 
and exotic flowers, and the picturesque hric-a-hrac of 
his chambers blends with the background of his 
mystical female portraits; Whistler, the creator of the 
princesse dii pays de la porcelaine, turned his house 
into a museum of works of [apanese art; Lenhach’s 
portraits, with their flavor of the old masters, look as 
if they were painted solely to decorate the artist’s 
rooms, those rooms shrouded in half light and shade, 
and adorned with old carpets and heavy Renaissance 
ceilings. Stuck also has carried over into the fur¬ 
nishing of his home the strong antique style of his 
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THK STUDIO 
