Word: charioteer
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...There is a general and valid acknowledgment that the better the painter the dumber he must be, and out of this dumbness the critic is born and makes hay." French-born Jean Chariot, who wrote that bitter-seeming remark, is himself a cheerful contradiction of it. Chariot (rhymes with Hello) makes hay on both sides of the field. Last week his paintings and colored lithographs were packing people in at Colorado Springs's George Nix Gallery (including museum buyers from as far away as Washington, D.C. and San Diego), while Chariot himself expatiated on art in the Colorado Springs...
...chief contribution that the Mexican muralists (Orozco, Siqueiros and Rivera) made to modern art, Chariot thinks, was in emphasizing "communal" painting, simple and clear in theme, instead of individual expression. "Perhaps," he says, "Mexico will point Europe back to the forgotten way." In Colorado, Charlot has put his own students to work on a gigantic fresco of the fall of Jericho, to "keep them, out of mischief for months at a time, and help them understand that teamwork is important and that originality is not all-important...
Contemplation v. Fishing. Chariot's own work, nonetheless, is strikingly original. His new paintings were mostly religious in theme, though they transferred the Biblical settings to Mexico.* Given Chariot's Mexican materials, a lesser artist would have done something picturesque, suitable for pious tourists, but Chariot's pictures were more than halfway abstract: the figures were squared off to look like pottery dolls and the colors were arbitrarily rich and sweet...
...pictures, away went the ambulance, the siren screaming. The pictures were developed on the way and sent to Acme's clients from a downtown office well ahead of the competition. At the next big fight, six ambulances were parked outside. Recalls Blumenfeld fondly: "We had a regular Roman chariot race down Park Avenue...
...honor. Oxford had not entertained a royal visitor with this traditional Renaissance theatrical since 1636, when Charles I and his Queen Henrietta Maria paid a call*. In sunlit, flower-decked Radcliffe Quadrangle at University College, Elizabeth was ensconced beneath a blue-&-gold canopy while from a swan-shaped chariot (drawn by redheaded twins) Venus and Neptune delivered their welcoming speeches. Beneath the glassy eyes of movie and television cameras, a fully armored St. George charged in, precariously perched on a white horse that at first stubbornly refused to face the guest of honor. The cast also included 94 white pigeons...