The first world war paintings of Paul Nash are so vivid and emotive that they have come to embody, as readily as any photograph, the horrendous, bitter misery of the trenches. His blighted landscapes represent the destruction of a generation of soldiers, men who were blasted apart as carelessly as the bomb-shattered mud in ‘The Mule Track’ (1918) or the reproachful twists of blackened wood and pocked land in ‘Wire’ (1918/9). These works are fixtures in our visual understanding of that war.
It is strange, then, to see an exhibition of first world war art that excludes Nash, his brother John, and indeed any of the other artists we associate with the period. No Otto Dix or Max Beckmann, no Sydney Carline, William Orpen or John Singer Sargent. But, one little C.R.W. Nevinson tank etching aside, this is what Brushes with War at the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum, Glasgow, gives us: a battalion of drawings and paintings from artistic nobodies of rather varied ability.
Anyone expecting the familiar interpretations of the official war artists will be disappointed. Instead we are presented with work produced exclusively by serving soldiers, from all sides. Some of them were trained artists or draughtsmen, but many clearly were not. That Nevinson tank, with its assured line and depth, stands out as the work of a professional.
The exhibition, assembled by the American collector Joel Parkinson and visiting Europe for the first time, is, as such, rather unusual. Authenticity, rather than artistry, is the hook. This is, emphatically, a soldier’s-eye view of combat seen through satirical cartoons, candid portraits and rapid landscapes sketched out from the back of a trench. It is a history exhibition as much as an art show.
Comments
Join the debate for just £1 a month
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for £3.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just £1 a monthAlready a subscriber? Log in