IT would be presumption, indeed an impertinence, for this corner of the paper to expatiate on the fascinating exhibition in the RHA Gallagher Gallery, Dublin, of the paintings by Basil Blackshaw. it has all been done before, with distinction, by the learned chief critic of this newspaper, Brian Fallon. The exhibition goes on until January 31st, and it's worth noting that as many again of his pictures are still on tour in America.
So the subject today is not art criticism, but dogs of which Basil has owned and painted many. He has a thesis, fuelled by experience and conviction, that there is a habit common to terriers they like now and then to go on three legs. Nor is it a matter of cocking a leg for urinary purposes, in the case of the male, anyway.
And it is not through arthritis or rheumatism or any other ability: they just, now and then, like to walk on three legs. Not all of them, you argue: friends who have had long experience of Kerry Blue terriers have never come across this habit. Well, then, it may apply only to the short legged ones, like his own Staffordshires. And not only do his own take to three legs, but offspring now in the hands of family relatives act likewise. No doubt those little gurriers, the Jack Russells, do the trick, and fox terriers and Border terriers.
Basil quotes other owners, of unimpeachable character, who have terriers with this characteristic or eccentricity. Now it may be that ninety per cent of the population of the country are aware of this terrier oddity, and who would dare argue dogs, or horses or indeed any animal in this country with Basil?
Those who have been with him in the studio, in the upstairs of a barn, will remember the background soundtrack of crowings, snufflings, and the odd bark. The dogs he paints have a lovely wild, individual look about them, standing or swinging along. The world of Basil Blackshaw is a wonderful world.