FOREWORD
Enough credit can never be given to the serious creative artist for his courage in submitting his works to any annual open exhibit. It takes moral stamina of a very high order to offer the representatives of all his thoughts, his imagination, his emotions, his philosophy, his technical skill and, far from last, his physical effort and time to be judged by a jury of his peers.
It sounds easy enough to accept the invitation to submit two paintings or two sculptures. But what hopes and what fears ride with the decision!
The Oil and Sculpture Annual of the San Francisco Art Association is similar to a great many other annuals held all over the country. It is open to all with the fewest possible restrictions, and it is juried by a group selected by the vote of the active artists of the Art Association. The seasoned artist when he makes his decision to send his entries knows the task that confronts the jury and how it works. He may have sat on a jury himself, or he has certainly had it described to him. He knows that within the space of a few seconds and not much more than a minute his painting, we will say, is placed on an easel before a group of five experts, it will be judged "accepted," "rejected" or "doubtful," and it will be removed to join one of the three stacks of paintings along the wall of the jury room. In that brief time something of everything he has put onto the canvas something of his thoughts, his imagination, his emotions, his philosophy and his technical skill must get across to the members of the jury. Either he communicates something or he doesn't. If what he has to say reaches only one of the five-man jury his work is rejected (one vote "for," four votes "against" = Rejection). If he reaches only two or three he is put in the "doubtful" class, and he will have another chance, again only for a few fleeting seconds, when all the "doubtfuls" are reviewed. If four votes are for acceptance, he is "in."
This system has evolved over the years in an attempt to be fair and democratic, yet to keep a high standard of achievement. Inevitably, since five experts have personal predilections and tastes and emotions and intellectual processes that may vary as much as from black to white, the result is a compromise that gives a grey cast to the whole exhibition. It is neither white nor black, not one extreme or the other.
That one annual exhibition is better than another ought not to be considered as a reflection on the jury that selected the less good show. The entries vary greatly in number and quality from one year to the next, and the jury can select only from what has been submitted. As one artist's productivity varies from year to year, so does that of many artists sometimes all at the same time. When they produce a lot, as they did this year, the entries may approach close to seven hundred paintings- a terrific number for any jury to judge in one day. When the quality of a great many approaches a nearly uniform level mistakes in judgment inevitably occur.
Take, for example, the case where a painting that has been put on the easel receives one vote for Acceptance and three for Rejection. The decision rests with the fifth juror. On his decision "for" or "against" depends whether the picture is "out" or "doubtful." Maybe this fifth juror has already seen five hundred paintings and is tired. Maybe he doesn't like the frame. Maybe he doesn't like or maybe he does like a particular type of approach. Maybe he is worried about the decision he made on the last picture that was on the easel a few seconds ago. Maybe, maybe, maybe .... There are so many factors. He presses a button that registers on a board. The Registrar announces the decision. The picture goes ...
No one, least of all a juror, would deny that mistakes will occur in both "acceptances" and "rejections." With Art being such a personal matter to the individual, everyone would pick a different exhibition out of the seven hundred entries. It would be good or bad depending on his knowledge, experience and tastes.
This is written to give solace to the artists who receive "rejection" slips, to inform the public on the whys and wherefores of the choices, and finally to give testimony to the seriousness and impartiality of the jury. For a time the writer sat behind the jury to record his own choices "for" or "against." After one hundred pictures had passed in review, although he accepted some that were rejected and vice versa, the proportion of "outs" and "ins" and "doubtfuls" was practically the same, only a difference of four or five. This is not to say that his choice would have been any better or any worse than that of anyone of the jurors if he had selected the exhibition alone. It is only to say that a one-man jury reflects the individual, and the group jury reflects the cross-section.
With these facts and reflections in mind we have the democratic duty to accept the verdict of the jury and to thank them for what is ordinarily a thankless job, and we should also thank every artist who submitted his work. Whether" accepted" or "rejected" he or she helped to make the Oil and Sculpture Annual the most important San Francisco Art event of the year.
RICHARD B. FREEMAN
Assistant Director
San Francisco Museum of Art
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