Modernist Magazines and Digital Humanities

Unlike its Vorticist predecessor, Blast, Wyndham Lewis's second short-lived magazine, The Tyro, concerns itself less with aesthetic/theoretical didacticism than it does with critical analyses of modernist issues, particularly in art. The ostensible aim in publishing such articles is to disprove the prevailing belief, observed by Lewis, that "Cubism, Futurism, Vorticism, and all the rest of that revolutionary phase of art, is dead" (No. 2, page 3).  In the second (and final) issue of The Tyro, published in 1922, authors O. Raymond Drey and Jessie Dismorr each make a case for the continued relevance of modern art: Drey, by deconstructing the complicated and often bemused societal attitudes toward modernism, and Dismorr by cataloguing the recent crop of modern artists working out of Russia, whose emerging bodies of vital, experimental work in painting, sculpture and costume disproved the notion that modernism was dead.

      Drey's article, "Abstract Art and Some Analogies," primarily addresses the belief that, lacking function, abstract art is useless. He counters this idea with the contention that, though its function is unusual, it serves a function nevertheless.  Unlike those objects with aesthetic value related to the direct relationship between form and function, as in the beauty of a yacht's hull or "the cambered wings of an aeroplane," the aesthetic value of the abstract is not related to productivity (14).  Rather, the effect of abstract art is "on the mind and imagination of the spectator who is sensitive to formal design" (14).  Drey also addresses the detractors of the abstract, who cannot imagine its use, describing them as those viewers who  "are the least sensitive to the prodigal confusion of abstract forms in the midst of which they move and have their being" (14-15).   In other words, the abstract work is nothing more or less than the pure expression of the world in which it was created, a product of political, social, economic, global and local influences.  Further, far from being irrelevant or useless, this kind of art is only appreciable by the viewer with an acute sensitivity/susceptibility to the emotionality of pure form, rather than to meanings conveyed through narratives or poetic allusion (15).  

     Drey goes on to address other factors which may contribute to the unpopularity of the modern or abstract work, contending that its authors hinder the skeptic's ability to apprehend meaning by attempting to associate the work with "recognisable objects" (15).  A piece entitled "A Portrait of Madame X," for example may perplex the viewer who seeks to identify the conventional form of a woman within the abstract picture.  Such complicating titles are alienating, not only in the creation of distance between the viewer and the work's possible meanings, but by inspiring in the viewer feelings of frustration at not being able to understand a kind of inside "joke" (16).  Further, applying recognizable titles to abstract pieces dilutes the potency of the art itself.  As Drey puts it, "Those who are naturally impervious to the music of form, and those others who misprize it unless combined with a more complex form of appeal, are not to be won by explanation."  That is to say, the abstract is sensed or experienced and should not be intellectualized in order to be understood.

     For her part, Jessie Dismorr seeks to validate the work of modern and abstract artists by highlighting the various efforts of working artists in Russia.  Dismorr's piece, "Some Russian Artists," is an interesting artifact of criticism, as it contemporarily reviews the work of a few artists whose work would prove to be important well after the modernist period.  She hails the futurist Natalia Goncharova whose work spanned various mediums such as painting and costume design, for her "daring" juxtaposition of "chromes and majentas," as well as for employing "cubist devices" in her work with costumes (19).  Dismorr also interestingly places Chagal among the Russian artists, calling him/his work "a curious vessel of the national [Russian] spirit" (19).

     Although Drey's and Dismorr's respective approaches to the subject of modernist art are quite different (the former writes critical theory, while the latter writes art criticism), both pieces demonstrate The Tyro's dedication to affirming and promoting modernist art well after a skeptical public had begun to dismiss it.  Each piece proves that, despite contemporary skepticism, the importance and meanings of such art were still being widely discussed and considered; as such, The Tyro itself is a fantastic artifact of an emerging strain of art criticism and theory from a period of great innovation and creativity.

Tyro, Wyndham Lewis' Post War, and in many ways Post Vorticist, answer to Blast magazine opens in much the same fashion as it’s predecessor. This time, however, in the case of the second issue, it has advertising. To a large extent one can take this to be symbolic of the changes in the content and layout of this new magazine. It was more corporate. It was more tame. It was less angry. It was less poetic.

Without the involvement of Ezra Pound, the Tyro was primarily a magazine about art, rather than politics and poetry. The first issue began with Editorial notes that indicated the shifted focus of the magazine: “To be a rallying spot for those painters, or persons interesting in painting, in this country.” Lewis believed that after the Great War England was on the precipice of a Renaissance “much greater than the Italian Renaissance.” Given the size and length of World War I, and the effect it had on the general countenance of Europeans, Lewis suggested that what the Vorticists were able to accomplish before and during the war was only the beginning. In reality, Vorticism had been on its way out for the seven years in between Blast and Tyro, and there was no English Renaissance in sight. This post war Vorticist art was different. Less Futurist, less Cubist, and less Abstract. It was more classical and more realistic. It focused more on the human form, and was less conceptual.  It was less abrasive, and more pleasing to the eye. Pieces like Family and Lady Seated at Table might never have graced the pages of Blast. Certainly Tyro saw similarly abstract drawings, like Gunwalloe, but Lewis’ own art seemed almost uncharacteristic of his original Vorticist creations. In a post war Europe the coarse vexation of Vorticism was no longer feasible. The movement was at a stand still and it would need to widen its scope to achieve the kind of modern Renaissance it hoped to see. It included advertising. It included clay figures. It included short stories. And even after all that Vorticism is just a footnote of Modernism rather than the definition of the camp.
 

 By Elsie Dwyer, Calgary Martin, and Abra Stokowski

Various magazines during and immediately following the first World War dealt with gender in a variety of ways, both subtle and explicit.  While publications like Blast  sought outright to affirm specific essentialist beliefs about both men’s and women’s roles during wartime, others, like The Owl, shied away from making overt political statements.  However, even within the pages of The Owl and similar magazines with a strictly literary mission, like Poetry and the Sitwells’ Wheels, gender roles were often explored and re-imagined.  While male poets like W.J. Turner depicted female objects as symbolic of the innocence and harmony which was lost as a result of the war, female poets like Edith Sitwell and Iris Tree defied Blast creator Wyndham Lewis’s view of women’s domestic roles during wartime, by writing poems with female speakers whose interior lives are far richer than Lewis’s or even Turner’s simplistic, essentialist vision would allow.  Further, essays in The New Age, such as Alice Morning’s piece “The Enemy in the House,” imagined roles for women as dissenters who could affect the war’s outcome despite being removed from the action and relegated to the home.
     Blast magazine, and Vorticism in general, was male dominated. The magazine’s general impression of the war was that it was a necessary fight for the country of England and for the freedom of art.  On the contrary, the magazine’s impression of women was that they had a very specific role in society, and very little to do with war, a concept that the editors believed women could not possibly understand due to the fundamental differences between the genders.  Blast’s July 1916 issue is called the War Number and is dedicated almost exclusively to World War I. It speaks openly about the war, discussing it explicitly and implicitly in essays and poems. The masculine magazine establishes a pro-war agenda immediately, and leaves no question of allegiance.
      In Wyndham Lewis’ piece “The European War and Great Communities,” he analyzes specifically what brought on the war. He also examines what makes men fight, deciding that it is a fundamental need for their gender, as they have had to fight for their lives for centuries and will continue to have to do so in the future. He explains that it does not matter what they fight about, or who is correct, because “they are as willing to fight for one immediate thing as another, under these circumstances; since, ‘life is the only thing that matters,’ and it is for life both sides fight, and therefore both are right,” (No. 2, page16).  He asserts that war will never go away, for as long as men vie for power as communities, which they inevitably will, there will always be war. In proclaiming this he begins to explore gender roles.

Murder and destruction is man’s fundamental occupation. Women’s function, the manufacturing of children (even more important than cartridges and khaki suits) is only important from this point of view, and they evidently realize this thoroughly. It takes the deft women we employ anything from twelve to sixteen years to fill and polish these little human cartridges, and they of course get fond of them in the process. However, all this is not our fault, and is absolutely necessary. We only begin decaying like goods kept too long, if we are not killed or otherwise disposed of. Is not this a proof of our function? (17) 

Ignoring the fact that women also age and “decay,” Lewis decides that this is a woman’s only role in war: to make male babies that will eventually entrench themselves in battle to serve their primary duty. He goes on to state that women, due to the basal differences between the genders and thus their different roles in society, will never understand war. “I overheard two ladies the other day conversing on this subject, and one, with an immense jaw, flabby cheeks, and otherwise very large, said: ‘It is such a waste of good human flesh!’” (17)  Other than in the production of soldiers, women have no role in war because they cannot understand the duty that drives men to fight.
     One of the few female Vorticists, Jessie Dismorr, writes about wartime London in the same July issue of Blast, in a piece entitled “London Notes.” She writes about the ways in which public meeting places in London were completely unaffected by the fighting that raged on around them. Describing the places and people in rather grotesque terms, she does not mention the war. She merely makes implications by ignoring it, in the same way that regular citizens tried to ignore it. The war was not an issue for The Reading Room or Fleet Street. These were not literally the battlegrounds. She describes Hyde Park saying,

[A]ll the morning women sit sewing and knitting, their monotonous occupation accompanying the agreeable muddle of their thoughts. In the Row. Vitality civilized to a needles-point; highly-bred men and horses pass swiftly in useless delightful motion; women walk enamoured of their own accomplished movements. (66)

Despite being a woman, Dismorr sticks to the agenda of the magazine. She describes women in wartime as being mostly useless, and all but thoughtless. The men are well bred and on horseback. Calling to mind images of battle, they are described as being almost heroic. Though they are not literally at war, they seem to possess the same qualities of the men at war. The women sit and knit, thinking frivolous things, and find it difficult to walk and think at the same time. They cannot understand the concept of war, if questions about war even occur to them at all. They stick to their sewing, and their subordinate role as the mothering twits of society.
     While there is little mention at all of feminism or suffrage in the English magazine Blast, American bred Scribner’s magazine has many essays and stories about the movement. These pieces, however, do not tend to coincide with anything about the Great War. It was evidentially the view of the editors of both magazines that a woman’s role in war was at home, where they desperately missed their husbands, who were fighting out of a sense of masculine duty.  “The Misgivings of a Male Suffragette” is an anonymously written piece appearing in the October 1915 issue of Scribner’s. It is about a male feminist wondering in which direction the suffrage movement is heading. He begins by explaining that his wife Mary is a suffragette. She convinces him to go to a parade in honor of their movement, telling him that a friend of hers, Mrs. Watson, is also going but has not told her husband. Mary hopes that the writer will come just in case Watson finds out what his wife is doing, as the writer will be able to calm the angry husband down. (He is, in fact, Watson’s superior at work, and also on a membership committee for a club Watson would like to be involved with.)  The writer explains how Watson’s wife eventually came clean about the scenario, and how Watson joined the cause.  Ultimately, the writer is impressed with the success of his wife’s plan. “As far as it goes it is stupendously efficient, the feminine way of doing things!”  (Volume 58, no. 4, page 494) The writer implies that diplomacy, the attempt to avoid conflict, is inherently feminine. Indeed later, when a policeman speaking to the writer says that he is willing to “give” women the vote, Mary becomes infuriated, saying that they will not have it given to them; they will take it. As the writer puts it, he had “never seen [his] wife look more handsome.” (496). When his wife demonstrates the will to fight, he begins to see her as masculine. He goes on to struggle with the fact that he thinks the same way that the policeman did. As a man, he envisioned himself giving the vote to women, who would otherwise not be allowed it. While the writer seems to embrace feminism as an ideal, he cannot wrap his mind around men and women being equal. To him their differences naturally and bodily prevent such a thing. They are not equal. Women have children and men fight. After a lengthy argument that higher taxes discourage women from having more children, he comes to the conclusion that children are work, and are in fact the work that women so desperately seek. He discusses this theory with Mr. Watson, who adds to the argument the dynamic of what war does to women:

‘It explains why in England they have militants. The colonization of the empire has drained the home country of its men, leaving upward of a million women who haven't a ghost of a show even for a husband.’ A slow grin wreathed his face. ‘And the real war-cry of the suffragettes, as they roll bombs beneath the great chair of the prime minister is: '’Give us back our husbands! Give us back our husbands!’ (500)

In their eyes even suffragettes find little value in their lives outside of their domestic lives, and with their husbands away they find little value in the war. Like the editors and contributors of Blast, this writer seems to find that women have one role in society in a time of war: to be home waiting for their husbands to arrive back. They have no concept of why the war is important, and they have no palpable role in battle.
     One of the most obvious roles of women on the battlegrounds is that of army nurse. With this in mind, one might expect to see some mention of these vital cogs in the war machine in a Scribner’s piece called “War-Time Sketches in France.”  Appearing in the June 1916 issue, the piece is an essay by Herbert Ward, accompanied by the writer’s drawings. The main subject is soldiers and the soldiers’ stories. A harsh look at the atrocities of battle, the writer often discusses the backdrop of the beautiful French countryside against which the dreadful fighting is taking place. Despite mentioning ambulances, doctors, and hospital shelters, there is no mention of women on the frontlines. In fact, there is only one mention of women at all throughout the entire essay, which comes after a description of the gorgeous land marred by battle: “I have had occasion to read some of the letters of these splendid, simple French soldiers, written under shell and rifle fire, wherein they actually described the beauty of the sunrise to their womenfolk at home” (Vol. 59, no. 6, page 679). Even when women were tangibly involved in the war effort they were ignored, and their rightful place was thought to be at home.
     While magazines like Blast and Scribner’s were defining or even ignoring women's roles during the war, the engagement of such issues in publications like The Owl and Wheels was less explicit.  The former, which distributed two issues at the close of the war in 1919, and another in 1923, purported itself to "ha[ve] no politics and lead[] no new movements" (The Owl, no. 1, page 5).  As such, the war, no doubt on the minds of both The Owl's authors and readership regardless of any mission statement, infiltrated the magazine in more subtle ways: various pieces expressed a longing for a return to innocence and carefree beauty, while others were characterized by feelings of darkness and fear.  "Petunia" by W.J Turner, from the October 1919 issue, relates the speaker/poet's vision of a future daughter he will call Petunia, who will

dance, her small face
So bright that no sorrow'll befall her.
From this dark pot of earth, from this sun-clouded hollow
Like a rainbow she'll spring and a blue sky shall follow"
(No. 1, pages 10-12)

This “dark pot of earth" and "sun-clouded hollow" may easily represent the climate of hopelessness and gloom created by the war; consequently, Petunia becomes an emblem of hope for a less complicated future, one that is "bright" and free of sorrow.  Turner also envisions Petunia to be a lover of the natural world, of a more primitive and carefree existence.  Imagining that he will teach his daughter "the songs of Apollo," he goes on to describe the cult of the sun god, whose disciples are "white-armed maidens/ Sing[ing] in the soft dusks of summer."  Contrary to a world marred by the violence and destruction of war, the picture he paints of his daughter represents not only the hope for a lighter, more joyful existence, but also for a return to the fertile simplicity of a life in harmony with nature.  The worshippers of Apollo with whom he associates Petunia and in “the green” of whose eyes and “tresses,/ The forests of ocean are blowing,” are further described as personifications of that harmony.  The fact that the poem has projected all this hope onto a female child rather than a male one is significant when one considers the masculinist attitudes (like those prevailing in Blast) which motivate war.  Petunia represents a kind of mystical femininity, a source of magic “that flows up at dawn/ Out of earth’s darkness leaping” (No. 1, page 11) which can renew the poet, who envisions himself “wrinkled and worn,” as a symbolic representative of the war-torn world.
     Another interesting example from The Owl 2, of feminine associations with nature, can be found in a drawing by Pamela Bianco entitled “Fairyland.”  This drawing affirms the Blast position of a woman’s place in times of war: Bianco depicts the two central figures, both female, as stereotypic earth mothers, attired in clothes adorned with details from the natural world, and as caretakers, surrounded by naked, unself-conscious babies with angel wings.  This is a scene of peace and tranquility, with absolutely no associations or references to war whatsoever.  However, as with Turner’s poem and any work published during a war, the violent climate at the time of publication must be considered.  While the war raged outside the pages of the magazine, this illustration represents an ideal in contrast with reality.  Additionally, as Turner’s vision of his future daughter Petunia expresses a desire to return to a less complicated, innocent state of being, the appearance of Bianco’s painting immediately following the poem suggests a relationship between the two.  Indeed, the painting may easily be viewed as a visual representation of the world Turner imagines for Petunia: that is to say, a place in the future, a kind of utopia, which embodies ideals from the past.  The gowns worn by the women in the painting are in the Victorian style and reference a less complicated time, of a pastoral lifestyle, of fertility and harmony with nature.  The absence of men in this utopia is significant: war, quite clearly depicted as the domain of men in magazines throughout the era, like Blast and even Scribner’s which aligned itself with suffragist/feminist politics, is inextricably linked with the masculine; as such, the female figures in Bianco’s painting, depicted in wreaths of flowers, with leaves traveling up their skirts and bodices, represent a rejection of masculinist ideals and the war.  Rather, the ideal is represented here as it is in Turner’s poem: a celebration of the mystical feminine, of joy and harmony in nature, of peace precluding discord.
     Although themes of female gender and the war were touched on opaquely in The Owl, the magazine noticeably lacked any female authorship to express the opinions and feelings of women themselves during the war.  Wheels, however, featured woman poets regularly, particularly the work of Edith Sitwell and Iris Tree.  Contrasting with the view of women as frivolous beings whose only occupation during wartime lies within the domestic sphere, Sitwell’s poem “The Mother”, from the March 1917 issue, presents a more complicated view of motherhood.  While the presence of children in Turner’s and Bianco’s work ostensibly represents fertility, growth, innocence, tranquility and is, for writers like Wyndham Lewis, emblematic of women’s true role in wartime, Sitwell both reaffirms this trope and destroys it.  She admits that the birth of her son was a time of great joy heralding “the spring,” “birds,” and blossoms,” and releasing streams from “winter run,” but goes on to lament the loss of the child as he grows to manhood (Vol. 1, page 48).  During their time together, in the boy’s youth, his “sunlit hair was all [her] gold,” but when he becomes a man, he leaves her empty and resentful of the female lover who has come to take her place in the child’s life.  This retelling of women’s roles in the lives of their children defies the simplistic, rather disdainful view taken by masculinist authors like Lewis, who saw women’s roles in the domestic sphere as inferior to the great acts performed by men in war.  While women were expected by society to devote their lives to the rearing of children, the speaker in Sitwell’s poem explores the interior world of the mother, and the physical and emotional realities of those expectations, which are characterized by feelings of abandonment and a lost sense of self.  When her child becomes a man, the poet imagines that her son plots to “kill her while [she] slept,” merely in his decision to leave her protection and take a lover.  “The Mother” is a poem which paints women’s lives during this period of war and upheaval as equally marred by violence and loss as those of their fighting male counterparts.  No longer occupied by the all-consuming demands of parenting, the speaker, as the mother of a grown child, must nagivate her way through a world in which she no longer serves any purpose: no longer actively functioning as a mother, she considers herself already dead, yet forever haunted by the memory of her beloved child, whose name her “pierced heart scream[s] …within the dark” of her barren existence (49).  Another possible reading of the poem casts the mother’s enemy, not as a female lover, but as the world itself, in which wars are fought and sons are murdered.  The poem closes with the mother’s lament that she has failed her child, whose body hangs like a “blackened rag/ Upon the tree—a monstrous flag” (50).  In this reading, the mother is consumed by her grief and feels responsible for her failure to protect the child she loved with so much of her being.  She says, “All mine, all mine the sin; the love/ I bore him was not deep enough.”  In this way, the death the mother experiences comes as a result of her child’s death; she has failed the son and thus finds no more joy in living.  Regardless of women’s expected or prescribed passivity during times when men fought for their countries and their homes, Sitwell’s poem makes explicit the anguish and violence that women experience, regardless, even as they are kept at a distance from the fighting.
     Another poem written by a female and published in the fourth cycle of Wheels, which came out in 1919, is Iris Tree’s “Changing Mirrors.”  Like Sitwell, Tree complicates conventional views of women in the post-war era.  Her poem depicts a scene in which the speaker (presumably female) sees herself “in many different dresses,” each representing different facets of her personality and desires (No. 4, page 48).  Interestingly enough, none of the speaker’s visions of herself include motherhood.  Instead, she constructs a female identity which consists of a variety of other types, specifically “poisoners, martyrs, harlots and princesses.”  Just as the above-mentioned authors in both Wheels and The Owl opaquely reference the dark climate of the world associated with the war, Tree’s speaker refers to a “grey” world “where solemn faces/ are silence to [her] mirth—a flame that blesses/ From yellow lamp the darkness which oppresses.”  While the world around her is one of darkness, the female speaker is not consumed by it. Rather, the current of despair and oppression affects her just as it affects anyone, male or female, declaring: “Within my soul a thousand weary traces/ Of pain and joy and passionate excesses.” Like Sitwell, Tree imagines for her female speaker a deep interior life which belies the view that women were uncomplicated beings, incapable of fully understanding the ramifications of the war being fought by men.  Unlike Sitwell’s poem, however, Tree’s is rather universal, speaking of a world in which all people, not just women or men exclusively, experience the same kinds of happiness and sorrow.  Her speaker, shifting through different moods and feelings throughout her life, symbolized by her ever-changing dresses, considers not only herself but all beings when she names, in her conclusion, the “eternal beauty our [emphasis mine] brief life chases.”  By exploring, however simply, the interior life of a woman, otherwise neglected and simplified by male authors of the war and post-war era, Tree simultaneously equalizes her female subject with its male counterparts.  The poem asserts that joy and pain are emotions experienced by all creatures and contradicts the notion that either feeling is essentially male or essentially female. 
     In Poetry, as in The Owl and Wheels, gender and war are not topics addressed together directly at length, although both are ostensibly present in the minds of the poets whose writing filled the publication. When the two subjects are at play simultaneously, the consideration of both war and gender is very subtle: women often appear as caretakers, lovers, mothers, and subjects of adoration, which gives hints of how women’s roles were primarily defined, even in war times. So, in poems about female figures, the war is presented as a non-subject around which the woman’s role molds itself, but does not enter into. On the other hand, poems which do deal with the war directly, tend to be about men, and are written by men. One poem in which the female viewpoint of war’s effects can be seen in a January 1914 poem titled “A Woman and Her Dead Husband.”  The poem hauntingly describes a woman addressing her deceased husband directly, apparently from their own bed, with the cause of his death left entirely ambiguous. Perhaps his death was due to war.  If not, however, the focus in the poem is upon death, a war-time subject, and the poem is actually written by a male, D. H. Lawrence, who maybe imagines the reverberation of a soldier’s potential death through his household. The subject of this poem is a reflection of the idea, reiterated so often in Blast and Scribner’s, that a woman has no direct role in the battles herself, although her own role, as lover and wife, may be entirely destroyed by her husband’s death.  The pleas of the woman to her husband, asking if he is playing a joke on her, being so cold and pale, serves to magnify the horror and sympathy the reader feels for the woman.
     Another poem from Poetry was published in August of 1918, and is titled “To a Grey Dress.” In this poem, gender roles are more pronounced, and the subject of World War I is not present except for in the very conspicuousness of its absence. In the piece, a woman whose face is never seen is admired by a male as she walks through the trees: just a gray dress and the curves which fill the garment. The man watching her is thrown into fantasies based simply upon the femininity of her figure, although her identity is entirely unknown. The tone of the poem is one of happy distraction, and even the title itself is playful in its slight absurdity. This is another example of women’s perceived roles during World War I: as figures of joyous, simple preoccupation, creatures who stand apart from the violence of the battle, although nameless and faceless, without identities of their own.
     While Poetry considered the conflict in a more indirect and emotional fashion, another magazine, The New Age often featured articles which addressed the war in a more theoretical way. The New Age included opinion pieces, reviews, and creative writing, and two such articles in the magazine were published by Alice Morning. The first was included in January of 1916, and was a quite heavy-handed allegorical tale called “Feminine Fables: The Style of the Peri.”  The story describes a female angel who is banished from Paradise for one day, due to missing the closing of the gate at dawn. It was assumed that if an angel is late, he or she was committing an indiscretion while visiting the mortals. Rather than sulking over her temporary banishment, the angel declares, “I shall not walk in solitude around this idiotic style!” referring to the “distorting column” around which the excluded are expected to pace in distress (Vol. 7, no. 4, page 257). In the lone paragraph of the story which diverges from the symbolic tone, the author’s voice seems to shine through with passion, stating that similar punishments exist in the world of mortals: men, like the Peris--and like the devil, Morning adds--only punish what is detected. Had the angel been committing indiscretions, but returned on time, there would have been no punishment. Having missed the dawn, it is assumed that she was engaged in disallowed behavior. Whether this refers to lack of loyalty to one’s country is unclear, but it seems that a political and perhaps gender-based unfairness is being pointed out by Morning. The angel is described as exceedingly feminine, with a full bust, wide hips, jewelry, and the pouting tone of a spoiled child. In the end, however, the angel makes peace with her fate and feels “very good friends with herself.” (258) The independence of the angel is contrasted with the entitled and flippant attitude with which Morning generally characterizes this very feminine creature, suggesting perhaps a changing sense of female identity.
     Another article by Morning was published in June of 1916, an essay about the terrors of war, called “The Enemy in the House.”  In this piece, Morning argues that the so-called "impotent horror" (Vol. 8, no. 3, page160) of war needs to be transformed into “horror potent” (161). This outcry against war, she writes, most naturally comes from women themselves, who provide a kind of check on violence by voicing their objections. That, she argues, is a woman’s role during war: as a protester.  Under no circumstances should women mingle freely and routinely among scenes of violence. She believes that a woman’s horrified reaction to violence is the key to preventing barbarism. In writing this article, with confidence and an outspoken quality, the author asserts her ability to form her own opinions and hold them firmly. However, the role which she advocates for women is rather stereotypical. While the piece affirms a woman’s ability to think independently, ultimately her ideas about women’s roles away from the violence and action of war do not defy convention.
     Clearly, gender proved, as ever, to be a complicated, even contentious issue both during and after the Great War.  While some male authors persisted in their belief that women could not serve any useful purpose outside the home and were thus inferior to the valorous men who risked their lives to protect their countries, other writers sought to depict women in less benign ways: as symbols of the very peace and freedom of spirit which male soldiers fought for.  Less romantically, female authors depicted women as mere humans whose emotions and interior lives were as rich as their brave male counterparts.  Regardless, or perhaps as result of the divergent and often dichotomous positions taken by writers and artists of the time, the “little magazines” provide an interesting glimpse into the interplay between men and women as they struggled to reconcile their evolving roles in a world forever changed by the four-year war.  
 

Blast magazine's second issue, entitled the War Number, deals almost exclusively with the Great War. The plain cover of the first issue is replaced by a violent, Vorticist look at battle as drawn by Wyndham Lewis. The magazine begins with its usual manifestos and explanations of conflict in terms of the magazine's publication. Its "Editorial." sums up their excitement about the war, and their look at art's relevance in war time, both of which the writers of the magazine elaborate on tirelessly throughout the rest of the issue. Lewis' position is that violent times call for important art, and that people are more interested in art during these times. (Interest in Vorticist art did indeed dwindle over the next couple of years.) Delighted by the fighting, Lewis explains that the war is not just a war against the German govenrment. It is also a war against German art, which is too traditional and romantic. England is fighting for England, as well as their newest brand of modern, unsentimental art brought forward by Blast. This two front war is vitally important the the future of art, the future of England, and the future of Blast, which he to thinks will live on long past this second issue. It, as we know, does not live on, and evidentally England did not think it was fighting a war against German art, but simply a war against German soldiers.

Maja Vukosavljevic, Anna Chanie Istakhorova and Jenny Luczak

         The depiction of gender in modernist magazines during World War I can be deceivingly derogatory at first glance. In many of the magazines cataloged in the MJP from the war period there are poetry, narratives and essays which speak condescendingly of women. However, the topic of gender in the magazines should not be based on these instances alone. A closer examination of the world behind the publication shows the influence women had on the magazines during the era. Many of the magazines were edited solely by women, and many of the advertisements were directed towards female readers. This essay will illustrate that while the image of women in the modernist magazines may have been condescending, women were invaluable to the life of the modernist magazine.

          Wyndham Lewis' Blast was one of the more condescending magazines to woman. Its depicts females being solely in existence for reproductive purposes or being dumb and easily influenced by shiny objects. In it's second issue Wyndham makes his opinions about woman clear in "The European War and Great Communities" when he says: "Murder and destruction is man’s fundamental occupation. Women’s function, the manufacturing of children (even more important than cartridges and khaki suits) is only important from this point of view, and they evidently they realize this thoroughly" (July 1915 No. 2 16). He implies that a woman's sole role is in supporting the man's primeval urges for destruction by filling the ranks with fresh young blood; that there is no greater calling for women, in war or life, then to merely subordinate their male counterparts. Blast further carries on his negative attitude towards woman in short poems such as "Women Before A Shop" which is blatantly negative in it's views on woman. He recites "the gew-gaw of false amber and false turquoise attract them"(June 1914 No.1 49) this illustrates the author's belief that women are only interested in shallow and useless things. In this quote there is also the sense that the author believes women are incapable of comprehending anything in reality. The use of the word "false" in front of amber and turquoise particularly speaks to his thoughts on women not being in touch with reality and shallow. This sentiment of woman as being inferior and shallow is then further carried over in "Pastoral"(June 1914 No.1) a poem that depicts the appealing physical features of a woman but then quickly follows it up with an insult of her heinous laugh. As illustrated above, Blast depicts women as objects to be used by men but there is no appreciation for anything deeper.

            The Owl is another magazine that depicts women in a poor light such as being frivolous or inferior through drawings of women. One drawing in particular, above a fable called "Careless Lady," portrays a woman in a dress waving good bye to a beggar holding a child-her child. (May 1919 No 1 between pg 12 and 13, plate number IX) It also seems as though the lady was dancing up the stairs. The fable at the bottom of the page explains to the reader why this lady is shown in such a carefree manner: she gave her child away to the beggar when he came to her to ask for help. And after everything was said and done the lady tells the beggar "Bring her back...the next time you call." (May 1919 No 1 between pg 12 and 13, plate number IX) This fable along with the picture doesn't portray women in a very intelligent light, rather it's silly.

             Another literary work published in the same issue of The Owl  is called "The Sun," written by John Galsworthy. (May 1919 No 1 23-27) This is a play involving two men and a girl. It is implied that the girl was dating one of the men and then he was sent to fight in World War I, and she began to date another man. The play begins with the girl and her current boyfriend waiting for the old boyfriend to come back home. The girl wants to tell the old boyfriend that she no longer wants to date him. However, the girl's current boyfriend doesn't give her a chance to do so by coming out of hiding.

Soldier [old boyfriend]: ... Give us a kiss, old pretty.

The Girl: (drawing back) No.

Soldier: (blankly) Why not?

The Man with a swift movement steps along the hedge to the Girl's side.

The Man [current boyfriend]: That's why, soldier. (May 1919 No 1 26)

The man didn't give the girl a chance to tell the soldier what she wanted to say possibly because he thought that she was not smart enough to figure out how to do it herself.

            It seems that the man didn't want to even give the girl a chance to speak. After a little bit of bickering between the two men, the soldier says, "that's all right, then. You keep 'er." (May 1919 No 1 26) Basically, the girl's old boyfriend did not really care about her enough since he just gave her up so quickly. It also seems that the girl's current boyfriend only wanted her because he was able to steal her from someone else. "I don't want 'is charity. I only want what I can take." (May 1919 No 1 27) In the play, Galsworthy shows women as an inferior creature, and one that doesn't deserve to be loved. Rather, the woman is a sort of prize to be argued over. Both the fable and the play portray women negatively by showing their carelessness and showing how men treat them without respect.

           Unlike The Owl, The New Age did not have a specific agenda against women. This is not to say that women were not scolded for their poor behaviors. However, men were also scolded for their actions as well. There is a particular recurring article titled "Man and Manners. An Occasional Diary" that points out the mistakes that women AND men make. For instance, in the January 6, 1916 issue the author states, "Men are child-like too seldom. Women are childish too often." (Jan 1916 Vol 18 No 10 230) This is the first issue that this column appears in during the war and it seems that the author might criticize women and their ways in later columns as well as this one. In addition, in the February 24th issue the author rants about the way women carry themselves during the war. She states, "Woman herself will be to blame, for women are accompanying their war-services with manners that will surely forfeit their expected reward." (February 1916 Vol 18 No 14 399) It seems that women were trying to do what men did by wearing khakis. However, "mens' khaki is to conceal them, so I'm told. Womens' is to attract?" (February 1916 Vol 18 No 14 399) It seems that women are copying men just for the sake of copying them. The author asks women, "if the doing of mens' work involves the adoption of mens' manners and even their costume, how, please, shall we discover the superiority of women's ways?" (February 1916 Vol 18 No 14 399) The author scolds women again by saying, "Women are on trial... women-your khaki manners will be used against you... it will have profited you nothing. Ridicule and worse-contempt and neglect." (February 1916 Vol 18 No 14 399) Not only does the author scold women but while she scolds them she tries to make them see that they can be treated in a better way by changing their ways.

           Conversely, in another issue the author of this column relates a story to the reader in response to men "always complaining that women don't play the game with them." (January 1916 Vol 18 No 12 278)

Once upon a time there were two men who kept grumbling and grumbling that their wives-Heigho!-took up so much of their time they couldn't do any work. One fine morning the two wives went away for a holiday. "This is good," said their husbands. "Now, indeed, we shall get on with our work!" With these words the two men sat talking and talking and drinking and drinking till far into the dawn. "We will meet again to-morrow," and the elder of the tow as they parted long after the cockcrow. "With all my heart," cried his friend. "Then I will show you a photo of the little but of fluff I met when my wife-Heigho!-took up so much of my time I couldn't do any work!" On the morrow the two friends lay sleeping and sleeping till long past noon, but as soon as evening came they began talking and talking and drinking and drinking till far into the dawn. "To-morrow at the same hour," they agreed, as they parted long after the cock-crow. "Plenty of time to work when the wives come marching home!" (January 1916 Vol 18 No 12 278)

This shows a transition between the way women are viewed in The New Age.

            In another issue of The New Age the author attacks men and their rudeness for calling their waitresses "Miss" instead of just using the word "please." The author states, "The chief source of the trouble, I believe, is in the implication that no man takes a woman's work seriously." (February 1916 Vol 18 No 14 326) The author continues to say that if women don't need to use the word "Miss" to get their waitresses' attention then why should men use that word. She ends off that thought with the following: "For me they are all settled by the general theory that the world is man's home, and his women visitors therein are his guests, while the paid officials, during their hours of office, are his servants. Would a man expect a woman whom he visits to curtsy to her servants? Servants should be directed without words. The more non-existent they become, the more perfect." (February 1916 Vol 18 No 14 327) In the February 10, 1916 issue the author relates her experiences in a cafe where she noticed that men mistreat women by not discussing important topics with women. "For ten minutes no one spoke more than the weather permitted. Then three of the men returned to a formulary philosophical discussion in which they were joined for an hour by a man who had left his woman-companion alone in another corner of the cafe." (February 1916 Vol 18 No 15 351) The author insists that men include women in their conversations. Basically, this column has something negative to say about the way men and women act and interact with each other. There are times when the author particularly blames men for the wrongs that she sees and there are times when the author says that women have dug their own graves by acting silly and childish.

        Although the previously mentioned magazines tended to portray women negatively in their content, Wheels serves as an example of the power women had as editors of modernist magazines. At first glance, the 1916 issue might be pegged as a woman's magazine since it illustrates a simple line drawing of a woman pushing a baby stroller (December 1916- Second Edition published March 1917 Vol. 1 Cover). This image has nothing to do with the poetry included, it's sun-shiny scene is actually antithetical to the publications poetry, which is consistently morbid. By the third volume, the editors had entirely revamped the magazines image, replacing simplistic images such as the woman and baby, with intense and angular futurist paintings such as "The Sky Pilot" (1918 Vol.3 Cover). The tone of this and further cover images continues the tone depicted here. It seems to be a move away from the feminine visual qualities of the first issue, yet the same issue which began this new trend also made it a point, for the first time in its  publication, to indicate that Edith Sitwell was the magazine's editor(1918 Vol.3). Throughout it's publication, the magazine was organized and edited by Edith and Osbert Sitwell, whereas issues in the past deferred to Osbert by publishing his poetry first, this issue indicated an editorial move in Edith's favor. In this way, Wheels serves as an example of the way masculine elements were often favored in the content of the magazine, while in the side-lines women were moving into positions of greater power.

            Another magazine illustrating the role of women in this way is Poetry, one of the longest running magazines in the MJP, for much of it's life it was predominately edited by two women. Hariet Monroe and Alice Corbin Henderson were the predominant editors, with Ezra Pound as a foreign corespondent. As the magazine's proprietor, Monroe made it her mission from the beginning not to espouse a particular political or literary opinion, but for the magazine to serve as means to foster the culture of poetry in the United States and abroad (October 1912 Vol.1 No.1 26-28). Monroe herself lived the life of a feminist (whether self-professed or not); she was a business woman, a poet, an essayist and a critic. Yet, Poetry's content gives little attention to the female role or the suffrage movement. Instead, Monroe continually uses her space for editorial commentary to publish opinion essays on the society of poetry and government policy. An example of such an essay is "Give Him Room" ( May 1915 Vol.6 No.2 81-84), which does not--as its title belies--give relationship advice to women, but speaks to the way society should treat their poets. Again in, "The City and the Tower" (April 1917 Vol. 10 No.1 36-39) Monroe extrapolates on linguistics and the spread of the English language as a result of the war. In this essay she makes biblical references and comments with authority on society, but again makes no reference to the feminist agenda.

           In her editorial policy, Hariet Monroe exemplified the goals of the feminist movement by acting in a position of power, but she did it without affiliating her magazine with the movement. Much like Edith Sitwell's Wheels, her magazine published predominately male authors, but did include female poets. The success of her magazine drew the attention of Ezra Pound, who, despite his involvement with Blast, a magazine which overtly demeaned women, worked with Monroe for many years, serving her magazine with poetry and criticism alike.

The powerful role of women within the magazine culture can also be seen in Scribner's advertisements. Scribner's devoted about half of it's pages to advertisements and many of which speak to the role of women in society during and before the war. The prominence of placement and quantity of advertisements geared towards women speak directly to the size and importance of the magazine's female readership. In February 1915 edition of Scribner's we're greeted by a full page advertisement for Tiffany's and Co. (Feburary 1915 Vol.57 No.2). The advertisement's placement on the 3rd page, second only to the context page, indicating the importance of grabbing the attention of the female patronage. Scribner's is peppered with advertisements promoting things such as "Royal Baking Powder," baker's cocoa (Feburary 1915 Vol.57 No.2), and Harper's Bazzar advertising Parisian Dress Makers (Janurary 1915 Vol.57 No.1). Each of these advertisements indicate the magazine's female readership. The opinions expressed throughout the various journals might vary in their view of women but through these advertisements we clearly see the role women did indeed play in the culture of modernist magazines. We see through these advertisements that woman not only helped the war effort by joining the work force but also by running the household. As a result of their contribution to both fields they became one of the chief demographics targeted by various advertisements indicating how indispensable they were to society.

            As this essay has illustrated, the role of women during World War I as seen through the modernist magazines, was a conflicted one. In many cases, women were in positions of power in the publishing industry, and often made up a strong portion of a magazine's readership. However, the content which the magazine's published predominantely depicted women in an unfavorable light. Seen in this way, the women's movement did not only assert influence by overtly proclaiming beliefs about human rights, but was also apparant in the more subtle way women were incorporated into the business of periodical literature.

The two articles "Inner Necessity" by Edward Wadsworth and "A Review of Contemporary Art" by Wyndham Lewis, appearing in the first and second issues of Blast respectively, offer interesting examples of early Modernist philosophies of painting and, moreover, the evolution thereof. As Malcolm Bradbury and James McFarlane put it in "Movements, Magazines, and Manifestos": Within this period... innovation sometimes develops out of what has gone before; equally it sometimes repudiates it" (Bradbury and McFarlane 198). This assertion reads particularly true when analyzing the two Blast essays given that they were published one year apart by the same Vorticist journal and yet their particular opinions on painting are markedly different.

In order to understand the divergence of "Inner Necessity" and "A Review of Contemporary Art" is it perhaps advantageous to note where they are united in aim. "Inner Necessity" is essentially a recapitulation of Wassily Kandinsky's book Concerning the Spiritual in Art in which the author argues for a break from representative painting in favor of abstraction. This, he avers, will facilitate what should be the chief goal for artists, namely, to express the eternal, or that which "is particular to all art" (Wadsworth 119). Likewise, Lewis is interested in a break from tradition and similarly he argues that representation is an obstacle to true innovation in painting.

This rejection of corporeal depiction, however, does not alone satisfy the needs of a truly modern style, at least not for Lewis. In fact, "A Review of Contemporary Art" has equal criticism for Kandinsky's brand of mystical abstraction as well. It is, therefore, in this censure that the difference between the two arguments becomes apparent, though, given the context,also somewhat problematic.

In that Wydham Lewis was not only a contributer to, but also the editor of Blast, the criticism he levels of Kandinsky seems incongruent with his publication of "Inner Necessity" in the inaugural issue of his journal. The answer to this contradiction may simply be chronological, however. By the summer of 1915, when the second issue of Blast was produced, the tenets of Vorticism may have coalesced and as such a rejection of the other Modernist schools is a delimiting statement. Regardless, it is revealing to read these articles in their original context as it provides greater insight into the development of the ideas of the time.

Rehana Afzal, Hilda Ronquillo, Eli Shoshani

           

       Tyro (1921-22) was Wyndham Lewis's post-war attempt to reincarnate Blast and reignite conversation about avant-garde ideals for a London audience.  The editor faced a number of obstacles in pulling off this second-act: 1. Ezra Pound, notable contributor to Blast, had become the European Editor of The Little Review 2. There was a declining interest in the avant-garde in London  3. Mainstay contributors to Blast, T.E. Hulme and Gaudier-Brzeska, had died in WWI. (Lewis himself had served in the Great War, and considered it a monumental waste of time, fueling his desire to return to his former productivity.)                                                      

          With its cover page, Tyro positions itself as a Review Of The Arts Of Painting Sculpture And Design (note the caption’s lack of punctuation and the cover's sans serif type of varying sizes, similar to that of Blast's). Launched in conjunction with Wyndham Lewis’s first major solo art exhibit, “Tyros and Portraits,” it was a publication by artists for artists--and not to be understood except by an artist.  Pound (of all people!) chided Lewis for this elitist approach.  Lewis needed to attract readers, not rely on a select coterie.  Otherwise "we may regard our work as a private luxury, having no aims but our own pleasure.  = You can't expect people to pay you for enjoying yourself," Pound wrote in a letter to Lewis.    

            Notable Tyro contributors were T.S. Eliot and Wyndham Lewis whose articles open the magazine prominently.  Other contributors largely consisted of members of the Rebel Arts Center and Group X.   Lewis sent out a rallying call "to those painters for whom 'painting' signifies not a lucrative or sentimental calling, but a constant and perpetually renewed effort” (1:2) (i.e. I can't pay you guys). 

            

    Publisher Information:

THE EGOIST PRESS, *(aptly named) 2, ROBERT STREET, ADELPH1. TO BE PRODUCED AT INTERVALS OF TWO OR THREE MONTHS. *(signalling its tentative nature)

PUBLISHED AT 1s. 6d, subscription for 4 numbers, 6s. 6d, with postage. *(only two issues were actually published in total)

Printed by Bradley & Son, Ltd., Little Crown Yard, Mill Lane,Reading.

 

                Tyro's most immediate problem was financial.  Lewis claimed he would use his inheritance money to split the funding costs with contributing author Sidney Schiff (who agreed to back the paper anonymously so that contributors wouldn't expect to be paid).  However, citing financial difficulties, Lewis reneged on his promise; but Tyro was published regardless.    

            The periodical's financial difficulties are reflected in direct appeals to readers. Originally, Lewis claimed that the periodical would be produced at intervals of two to three months, but in the opening note admitted the appearance of the Tyro will be "spasmodic" (1:2). Since they had expanded the journal (the second issue was 6 times as long as the first--made possible by ads, which were completely absent from Issue #1) but cut down the number of issues, Lewis wrote that in good faith the terms of subscription should be considered fulfilled (2:3) with fewer issues.

            On a basic level, Tyro was a doomed enterprise because the tyros did not connect with their audience.  What is a tyro?  The tyro ('tiro' in Medieval Latin: 'beginning soldier'/'recruit') was a symbol of an uncertain post-war society composed of novices, their teeth jutting out in a barbaric, tentative smile.  They were not only esoteric but off-putting.  Ironically, Pound whose highbrow work had been viciously mocked, attempted to steer Wyndham Lewis in a mainstream direction.  Lewis seemed to grow aware that the tyros were alienating readership. Indeed, Lewis promises the appearance of ten tyros in the following issue, but no tyros appear other than the one on the cover. 

Eventually, Lewis himself admitted that the Tyros "were not easy to like."

            Compare the two tyros on the covers: the Tyro of issue #2 is marginalized, reduced, almost boxed out of existence, where the first issue's Tyro had confrontationally leered out at the title.  The second issue now takes on a more subdued and less polemical tone, but too late to win over the public.

        

            After two issues, Lewis took 600 copies on a trip to Paris and gave an inscribed copy to James Joyce in an effort to to pump life into Tyro but neither tactic helped save the publication.  Lewis acknowledged defeat, admitting in Tyro 2 that the magazine hadn't changed much in the art world.  It had failed to reconstitute a dialogue about art and innovation for the post-war era.  The periodical folded by default, with Lewis never publishing another issue. 

            Even afterwards, Lewis chose to "go down with his ship," stubbornly remaining commited to an elitist view promulgated by Blast.  He further isolated himself and wrote critically of his contributors to Tyro--those authors like Schiff who had written for free, and even provided financing!    

 

 Tyro: Attitudes, Politics, Aesthetics

In examining The Tyro, one can immediately sense the difference between this periodical and that of The New Age. Wyndham Lewis has sought to make a favorable argument towards Abstract Art. The overall manifestos are not that of critical begrudging men seeking to demean anything “modern”. Rather, the articles and reviews (save for a surprisingly cynical T.S Elliot) are positive, and painstakingly try to explain why the new art movement should be valued and acknowledged.                                                                                                           

The name Tyro (a beginner or learner in anything; one who has mastered the rudiments only of any branch or knowledge) may be a play against the way Wyndham approaches his ideals of Art appreciation. He attacks any notion that Abstract art is elementary and without aesthetic, and his contributors sing his praises (and that of fellow artists) as well.

In Issue 1 (there were only two issues), there is a sufficient amount of art supplements which are considered modern. Besides the Tyros, which Wyndham presents with a brief history and a tongue in cheek introduction, there are sketchings and drawings by a variety of artists including Wyndham himself. In fact, as the second issue immerses Wyndham is responsible for the bulk of the artwork, accompanied with a few massive essays as well.

The political climate in this issue is one of aggression, both towards the elitist attitude of the English, and organized religion as well. There is one fascinating manifesto by Raymond Drey who speaks of “Emotional Aesthetics” and its role in the art world.  Drey states, “We must consider how far emotion enters at all into the making of works of art”. (Drey 10)   He infers that art that is seen as elementary is done so because it appears to be created out of an impulsive and irrational moment; free from structure. Nevertheless, he maintains that this method does not render an artist without talent. Drey states: “Work that is done in a very short space of time may be the cumulative result of the experience of years…Every fine work of art pre-supposes a period of contemplation…the slowness or rapidity with which the idea is developed to its ultimate form depends on the temperament of the particular artist.” (10)

Unlike the mixed reviews of multiple patrons in The New Age, Wyndham presents firm supporters who share his vision and ideas.

Issue 2, was a great deal denser and included many more works of art displaying everything from Cubist-like drawings to Dobson’s sculptures. I was concerned more with the massive amount of text explaining the movement of modern art and its colossal relevance to art history.

Wyndham, (who not surprisingly includes many of his own works) defends in great detail the “standards of modern art”. Wyndham says “suppose we say that Vorticism and Cubism is at an end. What do you expect is going to be there in its place?”

In other words, there have been great works before this movement and there will be great works after it, so to state that photographic like paintings are the only way to self expression, would be to place Art in a labeled criteria which is impossible.

Raymond Drey who also writes for the second issue says: “Abstract pictorial art is only the invention of our own time in the sense that never in the past has painting depended solely on the appeal of pure form.”

Wyndham, in yet another lengthy manifesto (this time on plastic art) compares art to philosophy because of all the different degrees of arguments that have arisen because of it. Also because like philosophy, rather than trying to ascertain an answer, philosophers and artists alike are more concerned with the question or piece at hand and the discussions that stem from it. The constant attempts to rate art based on method infuriate Wyndham, he states: “In art there are no laws, as there are in science. There is the general law to sharpen your taste and intelligence in every way you can.” He speaks of the future of art as grim, if society continues to view the art world through traditional lenses.

In conclusion Wyndham’s arrangement, in terms of aesthetics, is far more pleasing than previous periodicals reviewed. His focus and intent to persuade the masses is evident. As the editor, clearly his editorial policies would serve to express and deliver his ideas which would make it somewhat bias, yet less hypocritical (in my opinion) than The New Age, which seemed like closet conservatives wearing progressive masks.

 

Tyro in Context

In understanding the importance of the “The Tyro” it was important to read about the specific time frame. I picked the first issue, which appeared in 1921. In so doing, I was able to analyze the works present within the journal from a perspective very much similar to the analysis of Rayonnism. The journal was very unique as it concerned itself mainly with art and painting. Unlike the “New Age Journal,” which was quite substantial and methodical in its presentation, “The Tyro” was a collective presentation of paintings, poems, and satires although its modalities of expression and it originated in London.

The majority of the journal was written by Wyndham Lewis, a major part of the Vorticist movement, which originated in London after the era of cubism. This new style of art, which lasted relatively short period of time was very much similar to Rayonnism, where it tried to externalize the emotions, feelings, perceptions, and realities of the mechanistic society through painting. The movement had a great influence on the magazine, which appeared years after the movement had ceased to be prominent. The first issue contained a series of poems, and included some great paintings, which upon examination fully reify the stances of the movement in discussion. In addressing the newness or the avant-garde nature of the magazine, the Tyro concerned itself with elemental, the raw essence of art, which shifted after World War I as various paradigms within the artistic world saw a renaissance while others died down. Some of the highlights include Cubism, Rayonnism, and Dadaism.

The magazine came at a time of prosperity in the U.S., as historically the 1920s were referred to as the roaring twenties, it was a period of post- war growth and that greatly impacted how the public perceived the magazine and how the magazine chose to sustain itself. The magazine did not go past two issues as Lewis noted that it would see increases in the number of volumes based directly on the perception and need for more input.

I specifically focused on the painting on page 5, as that concerned itself with the evolution of the industrial man. Somehow, the look of sheer greed on the man’s face personifies the roaring twenties, as many individuals amassed a great deal of profit during that decade. However, the face also goes along with the changes brought forth by the industrial revolution where it represents the rise of the entrepreneur. In a similar vein, the painting on page 7 shows two men meeting one another. In this case also there is a connection between the men. Artistically the style of both men is the same, however, these caricatures of real individuals really offer a new way to see how individuals interacted with one another. These two paintings can be seen as a way to represent the tyros during this great period of change. As the movement concerned itself with gauging the impact of the industrial revolution and the WWI, it focused on the elementals, the avant-garde. The paintings were not subtle, as seen through the aforementioned analysis, but they were very much the product of social, political, and economical forces which exerted a great deal of influence on the artist.

Lewis’s painting of a woman seating at a table (pg. 11) sheds light on another facet of society. Where the woman looks perfectly healthy, here eyes are not there. It seems as if this could be related to the women’s suffrage movement, as even after the historic right to vote, women were still oppressed in society due to the existence and entrenched beliefs in socio-political, religious and economic norms. Also, the woman’s features are greatly exaggerated and thus appear to be animated. The over all effect is that it is very difficult to tell how the women sees herself or society, because she does not have eye sight. Also, the women can be a caricature of lower class immigrant women, but lacked financial means of self-advancement.

The first issue of the magazine did not focus on a great deal of issues; it just addressed the realm of artistic expression as Lewis himself stated in the introduction, “…The object of this paper- to be a rallying point for those painters, or persons interested in this country…” (pg. 2). Currently, the journal can be accessed at the following locations:      

National Library of Australia http://rmc.library.cornell.edu/EAD/htmldocs/RMM04612.html- Cornell Library

Project Muse- http://muse.jhu.edu/

These sources continue to draw the attention of those interested in the growth of modernism and change in the art movement.

 *Note: If you have a hankering to get your hands on a copy of The Tyro in book format, it is available in many libraries such as NYPL, Cornell, Wesleyan, Boston U., Harvard, Suny Buffalo, and Oxford if you are ever in the neighborhood.