'What a sight to behold!' said the painter. ?->(Show Answer!)

1. 'What a sight to behold!' said the painter.

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MCQ-> The painter is now free to paint anything he chooses. There are scarcely any forbidden subjects, and today everybody is prepared o admit that a painting of some fruit can be as important as painting of a hero dying. The Impressionists did as much as anybody to win this previously unheard of freedom for the artist. Yet, by the next generation, painters began to abandon tie subject altogether, and began to paint abstract pictures. Today the majority of pictures painted are abstract.Is there a connection between these two developments? Has art gone abstract because the artist is embarrassed by his freedom? Is it that, because he is free to paint anything, he doesn’t know what to paint? Apologists for abstract art often talk of it as Inc art of maximum freedom. But could this be the freedom of the desert island? It would take too long to answer these questions properly. I believe there is a connection. Many things have encouraged the development of abstract art. Among them has been the artists’ wish to avoid the difficulties of finding subjects when all subjects are equally possible.I raise the matter now because I want to draw attention to the fact that the painter’s choice of a subject is a far more complicated question than it would at first seem. A subject does not start with what is put in front of the easel or with something which the painter happens to remember. A subject starts with the painter deciding he would like to paint such-and-such because for some reason or other he finds it meaningful. A subject begins when the artist selects something for special mention. (What makes it special or meaningful may seem to the artist to be purely visual — its colours or its form.) When the subject has been selected, the function of the painting itself is to communicate and justify the significance of that selection.It is often said today that subject matter is unimportant. But this is only a reaction against the excessively literary and moralistic interpretation of subject matter in the nineteenth century. In truth the subject is literally the beginning and end of a painting. The painting begins with a selection (I will paint this and not everything else in the world); it is finished when that selection is justified (now you can see all that I saw and felt in this and how it is more than merely itself).Thus, for a painting to succeed it is essential that the painter and his public agree about what is significant. The subject may have a personal meaning for the painter or individual spectator; but there must also be the possibility of their agreement on its general meaning. It is at this point that the culture of the society and period in question precedes the artist and his art. Renaissance art would have meant nothing to the Aztecs — and vice versa. If, to some extent, a few intellectuals can appreciate them both today it is because their culture is an historical one: its inspiration is history and therefore it can include within itself, in principle if not in every particular, all known developments to date.When culture is secure and certain of its values, it presents its artists with subjects. The general agreement about what is significant is so well established that the significance of a particular subject accrues and becomes traditional. This is true, for instance, of reeds and water in China, of the nude body in Renaissance, of the animal in Africa. Furthermore in such cultures the artist is unlikely to be a free agent: he will be employed for the sake of particular subjects, and the problem, as we have just described it, will not occur to him.When a culture is in a state of disintegration or transitions the freedom of the artist increases — but the question of subject matter becomes problematic for him: he, himself, has to choose for society. This was at the basis of all the increasing crises in European art during the nineteenth century. It is too often forgotten how any of the art scandals of that time were provoked by the choice of subject (Gericault, Courbet, Daumier, Degas, Lautrec, Van Gogh, etc.).By the end of the nineteenth century there were, roughly speaking, two ways in which the painter could meet this challenge of deciding what to paint and so choosing for society. Either he identified himself with the people and so allowed their lives to dictate his subjects to him or he had to find his subjects within himself as painter. By people I mean everybody except the, bourgeoisie. Many painters did of course work for the bourgeoisie according to their copy-book of approved subjects, but all of them, filling the Salon and the Royal Academy year after year, are now forgotten, buried under the hypocrisy of those they served so sincerely.When a culture is insecure, the painter chooses his subject on the basis of:
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MCQ->'What a sight to behold!' said the painter.....

MCQ-> Read the following passage carefully and answer the question given below it.Certain words/phrases have been printed in bold to help you locate them while answering some of the questions.Once upon a time a dishonest King had a man call the Valuer in his court. The Valuer set the price which ought to be paid for horses and elephants and the other animals.He also set the price on jewellery and gold.and things of that kind.This man was honest and just and set the proper price to be paid to the owners of the goods.The King however was not pleased with this Valuer because he was honest ‘If I had another sort of a man as Valuer I might gain more riches, he thought One day the King saw a stupid miserly peasant come into the place yard.The King sent for the fellow and asked him if he would like to be Valuer.The peasant said he would like the position.So the King had him made Valuer He sent the honest Valuer away from the place.Then the peasant began to set the prices on horses and elephants upon gold and jewels.He did not know their value so he would say anything he chose.As the King had made him Valuer the People had to sell their goods for the price he set. By and by a horse-dealer brought five hundred horses to the court of this King.The Valuer came and said they were worth a mere measure of rice and the horses to be put in the palace stables. The horse-dealer went then to see the honest man who had been the Valuer and told him what had happened.’What shall I do ?’ asked the horses-dealer “I think you can give a present to the Valuer which will make him “Go to him and give him a fine present then say to him You said the horses are worth a measure of rice,but now tell what a measure of rice is worth ! Can you value that standing in your place by the King ?’ If he says he can go with him to the King and I will be there too” The horses-dealer thought this was a good idea.So he took a fine present to the Valuer and said what the other man had told him to say.The stupid Valuer took the present,and said,”Yes, I can go before the King with you and tell what a measure of rice is worth.I can go before the King with you and tell what a measure of rice is worth. I can value now. Well let us go at once” said the horses-dealer.So they went before the king and his ministers in the palace.The horses-dealer bowed down before the King and said “O King I have learned that a measure of rice is the value of my five hundred horses.But will the King be pleased to ask the Valuer what had happened asked,How now Valuer what are five hundred horses worth ? “A measure of rice O King !” said he “very good then ! If five hundred horses are worth a measure of rice what is the measure of rice worth ?” The measure of rice is worth your whole city” replied the foolish fellow The minister clapped their hands laughing and saying “What a foolish Valuer! How can such a man hold that office ? We used to think this great city was beyond price but this man says it is worth only a measure of rice.Then the King was ashamed and drove out the foolish fellow “I tried to please the King by setting a low price on the horses and now see what has happened to me !’ said the Valuer as he ran away from the laughing crowd.Who did the King appoint as the new Valuer ?
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MCQ-> Read the following passage and answer the questions. Passage: An old man with steel rimmed spectacles and very dusty clothes sat by the side of the road. There was a pontoon bridge across the river and carts, trucks, and men, women and children were crossing it. The mule-drawn carts staggered up the steep bank from the bridge with soldiers helping to push against the spokes of the wheels. The trucks ground up and away heading out of it all and the peasants plodded along in the ankle deep dust. But the old man sat there without moving. He was too tired to go any farther. It was my business to cross the bridge, explore the bridgehead beyond and find out to what point the enemy had advanced. I did this and returned over the bridge. There were not so many carts now and very few people on foot, but the old man was still there. "Where do you come from?" I asked him. "From San Carlos," he said, and smiled. That was his native town and so it gave him pleasure to mention it and he smiled. "I was taking care of animals." he explained. "Oh," I said, not quite understanding. "Yes," he said, "I stayed. you see, taking care of animals. I was the last one to leave the town of San Carlos." He did not look like a shepherd nor a herdsman and I looked at his black dusty clothes and his gray dusty face and his steel rimmed spectacles and said. "What animals were they?" "Various animals." he said. and shook his head. "I had to leave them." I was watching the bridge and the African looking country of the Ebro Delta wondering how long now it would be before we would see the enemy.. "What animals were they?" I asked. "There were three animals altogether," he explained. "There were two goats and a cat and then there were four pairs of pigeons." "And you had to leave them?" I asked. "Yes. Because of the artillery. The captain told me to go because of the artillery." "And you have no family?" I asked, watching the far end of the bridge where a few last carts were hurrying down the slope of the bank. "No," he said, "only the animals I stated. The cat, of course, will be all right. A cat can look out for itself. but I cannot think what will become of the others." "What politics have you?" I asked. "I am without politics," he said. "I am seventy-six years old. I have come twelve kilometers now and I think now I can go no further." "This is not a good place to stop," I said. "If you can make it, there are trucks up the road where it forks for Tortosa." "I will wait a while," he said, "and then I will go. Where do the trucks go?" "Towards Barcelona," I told him.Where was the old man coming from?
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