gaging to express themselves in it,
the need to shake off marked signs of masculinity, and even
brutishness of attack, as denoting, and it must be said here, a
factitious notion of power. Power in painting does not come from
muscularity of arm; it comes naturally from the intellect. There are a
great many male painters showing too many signs of femininity in their
appreciation and the conception of art in painting. Art is neither
male nor female. Nevertheless, it is pleasing to find women artists
such as I wish to take up here, keeping to the charm of their own
feminine perceptions and feminine powers of expression. It is their
very femininity which makes them distinctive in these instances. This
does not imply lady-like approach or womanly attitude of moral. It
merely means that their quality is a feminine quality.

In the work of Madame Delaunay Terck, who is the wife of Delaunay, the
French Orphiste, which I have not seen since the war came on, one can
say that she was then running her husband a very close second for
distinction in painting and intelligence of expression. When two
people work so closely in harmony with each other, it is and will
always remain a matter of difficulty in knowing just who is the real
expressor of an idea. Whatever there is of originality in the idea of
Orphisme shall be credited to Delaunay as the inventor, but whether
his own examples are more replete than those of Mme. Delaunay Terck is
not easy of statement. There was at that time a marked increase of
virility in production over those of Delaunay himself, but these are
matters of private personal attack. Her Russian temper was probably
responsible for this, at least no doubt, assisted considerably. There
was nevertheless at that time marked evidence that she was in mastery
of the idea of Orphisme both as to conception and execution. She
showed greater signs of virility in her approach than did Delaunay
himself. There was in his work a deal of what Gertrude Stein then
called "white wind", a kind of thin escaping in the method. The
designs did not lock so keenly. His work had always typical charm if
it had not always satisfying vigor. His "Tour Eiffel" and a canvas
called "Rugby" I think, I remember as having more grace than depth,
but one may say nevertheless, real distinction.

In the exchanging of ideas so intimately as has happened splendidly
between Picasso and Braque, which is in the nature of professional
dignity among artists,