Archive for the ‘Art Criticism’ Category

Concluding… Hirst - ‘For the Love of God’

Friday, May 22nd, 2009







    … Wavering between the profit and the loss
    In this brief transit where the dreams cross …


    Ash Wednesday Part VI
    T S Eliot





    I began this project with an unsettling suspicion that there would be an element of looking into a mirror and finding no reflection or possibly worse, one revealing those dimly formed ‘things’ I might prefer to ignore - “Ouch!”



    Art does not exist in isolation - a product of its time and understood through the context of the individual. Succeeding eras layer the understandings of their times over or alongside the original expression creating an even richer tapestry of associations.






    Jean de Dinteville and Georges de Selve (`The Ambassadors') 1533 Oil on oak, 207 x 209 cm National Gallery, London


    Hans HOLBEIN the Younger
    Jean de Dinteville and Georges de Selve (`The Ambassadors')
    1533
    Oil on oak, 207 x 209 cm
    National Gallery, London

    16C bling was a less scintillating indication of status and learning


    A painting and by extension other types of art, usually has to have some pleasantly arresting aspect to attract attention for me and this seems quite a prevalent attitude, especially in our age of image saturation. There is a high probablility that I’ll pass by without question when that pleasant attraction is missing. Sometimes though a little prior knowledge is reason to sit and look for a while, for instance the Veronese ‘Feast in the House of Levi’ would have had far more appeal had I known what I was seeing at the time. There are other examples of Art that you almost don’t need to see because the ideas they embody seize hold of that attention.



    It would be easy to dismiss ‘For the Love of God’ as another Momento Mori ‘… the prospect of death serves to emphasize the emptiness and fleetingness of earthly pleasures, luxuries, and achievements, and thus also as an invitation to focus one’s thoughts on the prospect of the afterlife’. Or to reflect on the very varied interpretations of Skull Symbolism.



    Difficult to escape the Glamour of the ultimate expression of Bling with whatever opinions and attitudes bling arouses. My major difficulty trying to find some coherent understanding is in the many faceted directions this piece inspires in my thoughts, mimicing the gems and creating an equivalent of the ‘flocculent effect’ noted in Will Self’s article To Die For. This skull doesn’t grin - it laughs out loud at my attempts to grasp and articulate answers for questions that the finest brains have struggled and argued to comprehend for millenia - and with books to fill entire libraries about them. At which point, I have to join in and laugh out loud at my conceit and the ironies of Hubris but Chesterton makes a strong case for at least attempting some of the impossible. So, with a nod in both directions…






    The following extract about Hymn from Dances with Sharks, includes some comments that may relate to facets of For the Love of God.
    (contains strong language; emphasis added in bold).





    22 March 2000

    artwork_images_414_8035_damien-hirst-hymn

      Damien Hirst
      Hymn
      1996
      Photography and copyright unassigned - assumed to be © Damien Hirst



      … Like the big guy [Hymn]. I financed that myself. But all the money I had off them [Charles Saatchi and Larry Gagosian; JF] was used to set myself up so that I never get under pressure again. So that I’ve not got someone knocking on the door when I’m experimenting on something that’s cost a lot of money, d’you know what I mean? To take a little toy like that of Connor’s and enlarge it to that sort of size, there’s a big possibility that it’s going to look shit.



      GB Is it a toy? I assumed it was from a teaching-hospital.



      DH I wouldn’t have done it with a teaching-hospital one. I did it with a toy. It’s called ‘The Young Scientist’. I might even get sued for it. I expect it. Because I copied it so directly [Hirst later paid an undisclosed sum to charities nominated by the toy's maker Humbrol to head off legal action for breach of copyright]. It’s fantastic. I just thought it was so brilliant, and it was so accurate, it was like a chemistry set, and I loved it that it was a toy. It was really similar to a medical thing, but much happier, friendlier, and more colourful and bright. And I just thought, ‘Wow! I wanna do that.’ I suppose it came from that idea of Koons doing those things [the witches' hat etc]. I just thought, ‘Twenty feet tall. Fantastic.’ But there’s no way you can get an idea of whether that’s going to work or not. So to go to Saatchi and say, ‘give us some money,’ and it turns out it’s shit and then he has to have it… So I managed to make that, blow it up, have it in my studio and sit with it until I was convinced it was good, and then decide whether I want to sell it or not. And Jay [Jopling] freaked out over it. He was: ‘Let’s get someone else to pay for it. Get someone else to pay for it!’ And it’s just shite doing that. It just doesn’t work out. You don’t get anyone else to pay for it. You pay for it yourself.



      GB Why did you do it in bronze?



      DH I just wanted it to be grand. It can go outside. It’s vandal-proof. Underneath it is this big fucking grand iconic fucking artwork. I mean, I love painted bronze. The paint on it’s like skin… It’s an outdoor sculpture. It’s like a car. It’ll decay. So eventually what you’ll be left with is this solid bronze man with bits of paint hanging off it. So in a way it’s like what happens to your body. I liked it for that reason. That’s why I went in for bronze.



      GB It reminds me of something you said when you did the Building Sites film on the Worsley Building in Leeds for the BBC: ‘It’s almost as if the outside of the building, the exterior, is denying that it’s a part of the same processes of decay and destruction and corruption as the human bodies inside the building. The dead bodies come and go and the living bodies come and go, and the building stays the same. I get the feeling from the building that it’s more alive than me, which is terrifying.’



      DH The guy at the foundry [where Hymn was cast], says, ‘What d’you want?’ So I gave him the toy and said, ‘I want it made this big, 20 feet, with a base this height.’ And he said, ‘What do you want it to look like at the end?’ And I said, ‘Plastic!’ He nearly had a heart attack. He said, ‘But it’s a bronze.’ I said, ‘I want it to look like plastic.’ ‘Well, why do you want it to be bronze?’ ‘Because I want it to be grand, and I want it to be bronze.’ And just when he finished making it, he phoned me up and he’s like, ‘C’mon, we can do some great patinas… We can do a really great red patina.’ I said, ‘What, bright red? Like plastic?’ He said, ‘Well, no. Not like plastic.’ ‘Well, can you make it took like plastic?’ And in the end, he thought it was great and he really liked it.



      GB Most people will come away from it thinking it is plastic.



      DH They will when it’s new. But they won’t in 10 years’ time. It’s like a car. It can be fixed up like a car or it can’t be. It’s tough. It’s car paint. But in 20 years’ time it’s going to look like a 20-year-old car… I felt very sad when it wasn’t there today when I went down. I missed it… When money comes in, I do things like that on the side. I’m beginning to more and more.



      © Damien Hirst and Gordon Burn
      Extracted from On The Way To Work by Damien Hirst and Gordon Burn, published by Faber & Faber on 22 October 2001 at £25






    Firstly, qualify everything I say about these works as I’ve only ever seen photos. That isn’t a cop out - no photo can ever compare with the experience of seeing first hand that blue whale in the Natural History Museum.




    My first reaction to seeing this - and most of his other works online - was ‘Uh?’ But add that bit of knowledge that it’s a bronze deliberately concealed and made to look like plastic whilst the image is literally spilling it’s guts, the flayed skin exposing the blood and bones, based on a toy rescaled to giant proportions and that the finish will deteriorate and age. No, I don’t think it’s terribly pretty but as an analogy of image, it’s spot on. Could there also be a comment about the ‘professional victim’ too? It definitely wouldn’t have the same impact if it had been on a mere human scale.


    Hymn also goes beyond comments on the place of image in our present popular culture, implying comments of the society that venerates image and further implying about the place of art in that society, even including a comment about ‘itself’ as an example of art - almost like a fractal in reverse where the tiny part is a reflection and symptom of the whole.


    I think it is fair to say that many people share a deep puzzlement or cycnicism about art that is too far removed from their personal ideas and expectations. I also think that a work of art that needs additional information to arouse sufficient interest to contemplate or gaze doesn’t quite succeed in it’s primary purpose, although that opinion is probably far too purist in practice. I don’t know what to think about Hirst’s works as objects of art - certainly artful. I began this project with a dismissive attitude towards him and his works - I find my attitude to have been unfounded prejudice. Several of his themes can be viewed as social commentary expressed with a masterful ambiguity of opinion that creates a tortuous enigma that can become quite compelling.




    There are too many potential avenues of enquiry to include all that I’ve found from the several themes I’ve explored [1]. To return to the original questions …


    Picasso’s Quotes regarding interpretations of Guernica remind me that whether conscious or deliberate implications were intended is an irrelevance verging on stupidity. If the extract above is typical, conscious or deliberate intentions seem unlikely - but none of the interviews I’ve read include this type of question. On the other hand, in The Last Supper Leonardo was emphatic in his intentions, concentrating ‘… on the different reactions of each of the Apostles, conveying their varied emotional responses through their facial expressions, poses and physical gestures. Surviving studies for the heads of some of the Apostles indicate that Leonardo studied the physiognomy and expression of each individual, working out every detail in drawings.’ Maybe the contrast is simply an indication of change in emphasis.


    Hirst’s ‘grinning skull’ is primarily for me, a commentary about the place of image in Popular Culture, laughing at the successful appropriation of popular culture by Pop Art that turns it into an intellectual exercise to deliberately exclude the general public that created the popular culture it derives from - and incidentally, laughing at the inability of those who can not see this as either Art or to get the joke - as well as laughing at those who ‘buy into it’. Personally, I think Hirst is having a good laugh all round too - a bit like the tailors in The Emperor’s New Clothes but I have no strong evidence to support that opinion.









    [1] Other themes including these:








Art Criticism According to G K Chesterton

Wednesday, May 13th, 2009





    A timely reminder of what criticism attempts to achieve. I include the whole essay because the arguments used indicate the framework that the opinon evolves from.


    I disagree with the conclusion as always being accurate - there are many instances in history that disprove it, including examples from some of the artists mentioned. Equally, there have been others who were applauded but are now forgotten, who have faded out of our current tastes and fashions - who may return in another age, possibly the result of a completely fresh reappraisal of them that is unimaginable to us now in the context of our era.


    I certainly agree that an elitist attitude that seeks a position of superiority through deliberate exclusion is definitely unacceptable.





    Scenes from the Life of Joachim: 4. Joachim's Sacrificial Offering 1304-06 Fresco, 200 x 185 cm Cappella Scrovegni (Arena Chapel), Padua

      Giotto
      Scenes from the Life of Joachim: 4. Joachim's Sacrificial Offering
      1304-06
      Fresco, 200 x 185 cm
      Cappella Scrovegni (Arena Chapel), Padua














    The Mystogogue
    G K Chesteron




    Whenever you hear much of things being unutterable and indefinable and impalpable and unnamable and subtly indescribable, then elevate your aristocratic nose towards heaven and snuff up the smell of decay. It is perfectly true that there is something in all good things that is beyond all speech or figure of speech. But it is also true that there is in all good things a perpetual desire for expression and concrete embodiment; and though the attempt to embody it is always inadequate, the attempt is always made. If the idea does not seek to be the word, the chances are that it is an evil idea. If the word is not made flesh it is a bad word.













    Coronation of the Virgin 1434-35 Tempera on panel, 213 x 211 cm Musée du Louvre, Paris


    Fra Angelico
    Coronation of the Virgin
    1434-35
    Tempera on panel, 213 x 211 cm
    Musée du Louvre, Paris




    Thus Giotto or Fra Angelico would have at once admitted theologically that God was too good to be painted; but they would always try to paint Him. And they felt (very rightly) that representing Him as a rather quaint old man with a gold crown and a white beard, like a king of the elves, was less profane than resisting the sacred impulse to express Him in some way. That is why the Christian world is full of gaudy pictures and twisted statues which seem, to many refined persons, more blasphemous than the secret volumes of an atheist. The trend of good is always towards Incarnation. But, on the other hand, those refined thinkers who worship the Devil, whether in the swamps of Jamaica or the salons of Paris, always insist upon the shapelessness, the wordlessness, the unutterable character of the abomination. They call him “horror of emptiness,” as did the black witch in Stevenson’s Dynamiter; they worship him as the unspeakable name; as the unbearable silence. They think of him as the void in the heart of the whirlwind; the cloud on the brain of the maniac; the toppling turrets of vertigo or the endless corridors of nightmare. It was the Christians who gave the Devil a grotesque and energetic outline, with sharp horns and spiked tail. It was the saints who drew Satan as comic and even lively. The Satanists never drew him at all.




    And as it is with moral good and evil, so it is also with mental clarity and mental confusion. There is one very valid test by which we may separate genuine, if perverse and unbalanced, originality and revolt from mere impudent innovation and bluff. The man who really thinks he has an idea will always try to explain that idea. The charlatan who has no idea will always confine himself to explaining that it is much too subtle to be explained. The first idea may really be very outree or specialist; it may really be very difficult to express to ordinary people. But because the man is trying to express it, it is most probable that there is something in it, after all. The honest man is he who is always trying to utter the unutterable, to describe the indescribable; but the quack lives not by plunging into mystery, but by refusing to come out of it.






    Perhaps this distinction is most comically plain in the case of the thing called Art, and the people called Art Critics. It is obvious that an attractive landscape or a living face can only half express the holy cunning that has made them what they are. It is equally obvious that a landscape painter expresses only half of the landscape; a portrait painter only half of the person; they are lucky if they express so much. And again it is yet more obvious that any literary description of the pictures can only express half of them, and that the less important half. Still, it does express something; the thread is not broken that connects God With Nature, or Nature with men, or men with critics. The “Mona Lisa” was in some respects (not all, I fancy) what God meant her to be. Leonardo’s picture was, in some respects, like the lady. And Walter Pater’s rich description was, in some respects, like the picture. Thus we come to the consoling reflection that even literature, in the last resort, can express something other than its own unhappy self.






    The Birth of Venus c. 1485 Tempera on canvas, 172.5 x 278.5 cm Galleria degli Uffizi, Florence


    Botticelli
    The Birth of Venus
    c. 1485
    Tempera on canvas, 172.5 x 278.5 cm
    Galleria degli Uffizi, Florence

    .




    Now the modern critic is a humbug, because he professes to be entirely inarticulate. Speech is his whole business; and he boasts of being speechless. Before Botticelli he is mute. But if there is any good in Botticelli (there is much good, and much evil too) it is emphatically the critic’s business to explain it: to translate it from terms of painting into terms of diction. Of course, the rendering will be inadequate—but so is Botticelli. It is a fact he would be the first to admit. But anything which has been intelligently received can at least be intelligently suggested. Pater does suggest an intelligent cause for the cadaverous colour of Botticelli’s “Venus Rising from the Sea.” Ruskin does suggest an intelligent motive for Turner destroying forests and falsifying landscapes. These two great critics were far too fastidious for my taste; they urged to excess the idea that a sense of art was a sort of secret; to be patiently taught and slowly learnt. Still, they thought it could be taught: they thought it could be learnt. They constrained themselves, with considerable creative fatigue, to find the exact adjectives which might parallel in English prose what has been clone in Italian painting. The same is true of Whistler and R. A. M. Stevenson and many others in the exposition of Velasquez. They had something to say about the pictures; they knew it was unworthy of the pictures, but they said it.





    VELÁZQUEZ The Fable of Arachne (Las Hilanderas) c. 1657 Oil on canvas, 220 x 289 cm Museo del Prado, Madrid


    VELÁZQUEZ
    The Fable of Arachne (Las Hilanderas)
    c. 1657
    Oil on canvas, 220 x 289 cm
    Museo del Prado, Madrid







    Autoportrait Location:	Barcelona Date:	Winter/1899 [~1900] Medium:	Charcoal on paper Dimension:	22,5 x 16,5 cm Collection:	Museu Picasso, Barcelona


    Picasso Autoportrait
    Winter 1899 (1900)
    Charcoal on paper 22,5 x 16,5 cm
    Museu Picasso, Barcelona
    Copyright © Estate of Pablo Picasso/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York











    Now the eulogists of the latest artistic insanities (Cubism and Post Impressionism and Mr. Picasso) are eulogists and nothing else. They are not critics; least of all creative critics. They do not attempt to translate beauty into language; they merely tell you that it is untranslatable—that is, unutterable, indefinable, indescribable, impalpable, ineffable, and all the rest of it. The cloud is their banner; they cry to chaos and old night. They circulate a piece of paper on which Mr. Picasso has had the misfortune to upset the ink and tried to dry it with his boots, and they seek to terrify democracy by the good old anti-democratic muddlements: that “the public” does not understand these things; that “the likes of us” cannot dare to question the dark decisions of our lords.







    Self-Portrait 1669 Oil on canvas, 86 x 70.5 cm National Gallery, London

      Rembrandt Self-Portrait
      1669
      Oil on canvas, 86 x 70.5 cm
      National Gallery, London




















    I venture to suggest that we resist all this rubbish by the very simple test mentioned above. If there were anything intelligent in such art, something of it at least could be made intelligible in literature. Man is made with one head, not with two or three. No criticism of Rembrandt is as good as Rembrandt; but it can be so written as to make a man go back and look at his pictures. If there is a curious and fantastic art, it is the business of the art critics to create a curious and fantastic literary expression for it; inferior to it, doubtless, but still akin to it. If they cannot do this, as they cannot; if there is nothing in their eulogies, as there is nothing except eulogy—then they are quacks or the high-priests of the unutterable. If the art critics can say nothing about the artists except that they are good it is because the artists are bad. They can explain nothing because they have found nothing; and they have found nothing because there is nothing to be found


















    ** I know I’ve used the Rembrandt Self Portrait before but his expression speaks volumes and I make no apology for repeating him here.






A Question of Interpretation

Tuesday, May 12th, 2009





    One of the many questions that come to mind exploring Hirst’s body of works concerns the validity of subjective interpretation - does it matter if the viewer comes up with some interpretation that is wildly different from the artist’s intentions? Does that make the interpretation irrelevant?


    These extracts give some of Picasso’s thoughts about the interpretations offered about Guernica. Also interesting to note how his tone changes over a period of years (I would have liked to have known the years he said these remarks but that information was not provided at the Source)




    picassoguernica






    Picasso never committed to a specific explanation of his symbolism: “…this bull is a bull and this horse is a horse… If you give a meaning to certain things in my paintings it may be very true, but it is not my idea to give this meaning. What ideas and conclusions you have got I obtained too, but instinctively, unconsciously. I make the painting for the painting. I paint the objects for what they are.”





    “Picasso made a very poignant personal statement about the horse in Guernica being connected to the idea of the suffering of the people,” adds Failing[1]. “And since it’s an animal with a big lance wound through its center, certainly that’s a connection many people would find quite plausible. But Picasso was maddeningly inconsistent about what he had to say about these particular characters, although he didn’t like to say very much at all about them. He knew that it’s better to not say something and allow the interpreters to fill in the space. That gives them something to do. It makes them think about you more.”




    Years after the completion of Guernica, Picasso was still questioned time and time again about the meaning of the bull and other images in the mural. In exasperation he stated emphatically: “These are animals, massacred animals. That’s all as far as I’m concerned…” But he did reiterate the painting’s obvious anti-war sentiment: “My whole life as an artist has been nothing more than a continuous struggle against reaction and the death of art. In the picture I am painting — which I shall call Guernica — I am expressing my horror of the military caste which is now plundering Spain into an ocean of misery and death.”



    [1] Failing, Patricia. “Picasso’s ‘Cries of Children…Cries of Stones.’” Art News 126, 7 (Sept 1977): 55-64.





Presenting… Hepworth - Mother and Child 1934

Friday, April 17th, 2009





HEPWORTH 1903-1975 Fenestration (The Microscope), 1948 Pencil and oil on gesso-prepared board 14 x 18 inches; 35.5 x 45.8 cm.HEPWORTH 1903-1975 Fenestration (The Microscope), 1948 Pencil and oil on gesso-prepared board 14 x 18 inches; 35.5 x 45.8 cm.

















    “I found there was such beauty in the co-ordinated human endeavour that the composition – human in appearance – became abstract in shape. I became completely absorbed by the extraordinary beauty of purpose between human beings all dedicated to saving life; and the way this special grace (grace of mind and body) induced a spontaneous space composition, an articulated and animated kind of abstract sculpture very close to what I had been seeking in my own work.”

    [1]


    HEPWORTH 1903-1975
    Fenestration (The Microscope)
    1948
    Pencil and oil on gesso-prepared board
    14 x 18 inches; 35.5 x 45.8 cm.






    Barbara Hepworth Mother and Child 1934 Wakefield Art Gallery copyright Bowness, Hepworth Estate


    Barbara Hepworth
    Mother and Child
    1934
    Wakefield Art Gallery
    copyright Bowness, Hepworth Estate





    I recently visited the Moore | Hepworth | Nicholson - A Nest of Gentle Artists in the 1930s exhibition where I saw this Hepworth Mother and Child and was struck by the tenderness of the composition. It brings to mind those heart stopping moments when babies are learning to stand - and spend more time falling down, that precarious moment of poised success before the wobbling legs collapse into a surprised heap of giggles.



    Reducing the forms to this simple expression emphasizes that moment and the universality of the experience. Most of us have seen something like this and though it’s unlikely we remember it, we will have been that tiny form trying to stand. The process of de-personalizing the moment through simplification has paradoxically made it more accessibly, individually personal at the same time as emphasizing the universality of the experience. And, taking the analogy a step further, is a wonderful reminder about the persistence of effort.



    The image doesn’t do the piece justice, it can’t because one aspect of it is that it’s actually two pieces with the baby being removeable - it ’sits’ on a peg, though it fits in only one position. There is another piece also titled ‘Mother and Child’ by Hepworth in this exhibition but the one shown here outshines it for me.




    Exhibition tours to the Graves Art Gallery, Sheffield from 20 May – 29 August 09








    hepworth_single_form_1_for_web_artistwork1
























    “I must always have a clear image of the form of a work before I begin. Otherwise there is no impulse to create.”








    Two Rocks 1971 Irish black marble Height: 116.8 cm /46 ins


    Two Rocks
    1971
    Irish black marble
    Height: 116.8 cm /46 ins























    “One must be entirely sensitive to the structure of the material that one is handling. One must yield to it in tiny details of execution, perhaps the handling of the surface or grain, and one must master it as a whole.”











    Group of Three Magic Stones 1973 Silver Edition of 6 7.6 × 35 × 31 cm / 3 × 13 3/4 × 12 1/4 ins

      Group of Three Magic Stones
      1973
      Silver
      Edition of 6
      7.6 × 35 × 31 cm / 3 × 13 3/4 × 12 1/4 ins
















    “components fall into place and one is no longer aware of the detail except as the necessary significance of wholeness and unity.”
    [2]














    Disc with Strings (Moon) BH484 1969 Aluminium with strings, edition 4 of 9 + 0 Height: 18 inches


    Disc with Strings (Moon)
    BH484
    1969
    Aluminium with strings, edition 4 of 9 + 0
    Height: 18 inches

































    [1] An extract from her autobiography that relates to her watching a team of surgeons operating, quoted by Will Gompertz in his article My life in art: Barbara Hepworth and the art of alchemy, further information about her autobiograhy is not provided.



    [2] source as [1]






The Gentle Art of Making Enemies - Whistler v Ruskin

Wednesday, April 8th, 2009

butterfly









The Gentle Art of Making Enemies



As pleasingly exemplifies in many instances, wherein the serious ones of this earth, carefully exasperate, have been prettily spurred on to unseemliness and indiscretion, while overcome by an undue sense of right


James McNeill Whistler
London MDCCCXCII





    Prologue


    “For Mr. Whistler’s own sake, no less than for the protection of the purchaser, Sir Coutts Lindsay ought not to have admitted works into the gallery in which the ill-educated conceit of the artist so nearly approached the aspect of wilful imposture. I have seen, and heard, much of cockney impudence before now; but never expected to hear a coxcomb ask two hundred guineas for flinging a pot of paint in the public’s face.”


    John Ruskin.
    Professor John Ruskin in Fors Clavigera, July 2, 1877.





    The Action


    In the Court of Exchequer Division on Monday, before Baron Huddleston and a special jury, the case of Whistler v. Ruskin Lawsuit for Libel against Mr. Ruskin Nov. 15, 1878. came on for hearing. In this action the plaintiff claimed £1000 damages.


    Mr. Serjeant Parry and Mr. Petheram appeared for the plaintiff; and the Attorney-General and Mr. Bowen represented the defendant.


    Mr. Serjeant Parry, in opening the case on behalf of the plaintiff, said that Mr. Whistler had followed the profession of an artist for many years, both in this and other countries. Mr. Ruskin, as would be probably known to the gentlemen of the jury, held perhaps the highest position in Europe and America as an art critic, and some of his works were, he might say, destined to immortality. He was, in fact, a gentleman of the highest reputation. In the July number of Fors Clavigera there appeared passages in which Mr. Ruskin criticised what he called “the modern school,” and then followed the paragraph of which Mr. Whistler now complained, and which was: “For Mr. Whistler’s own sake, no less than for the protection of the purchaser, Sir Coutts Lindsay ought not to have admitted works into the gallery in which the ill-educated conceit of the artist so nearly approached the aspect of wilful imposture. I have seen, and heard, much of cockney impudence before now; but never expected to hear a coxcomb ask two hundred guineas for flinging a pot of paint in the public’s face.” That passage, no doubt, had been read by thousands, and so it had gone forth to the world that Mr. Whistler was an ill-educated man, an impostor, a cockney pretender, and an impudent coxcomb.


    Mr. Whistler, cross-examined by the Attorney-General, said: “I have sent pictures to the Academy which have not been received. I believe that is the experience of all artists…. The nocturne in black and gold is a night piece, and represents the fireworks at Cremorne.”



    falling-rocket1


    James McNeill Whistler
    Nocturne in Black and Gold: The Falling Rocket
    1875
    60.2 x 46.7 cm
    Oil on panel
    Photo © 2004, Detroit Institute of Arts
    Gift of Dexter M. Ferry, Jr.


    “Not a view of Cremorne?”


    “If it were called a view of Cremorne, it would certainly bring about nothing but disappointment on the part of the beholders. (Laughter.) It is an artistic arrangement. It was marked two hundred guineas.”


    “Is not that what we, who are not artists, would call a stiffish price?”


    “I think it very likely that that may be so.”


    “But artists always give good value for their money, don’t they?”


    “I am glad to hear that so well established. (A laugh.) I do not know Mr. Ruskin, or that he holds the view that a picture should only be exhibited when it is finished, when nothing can be done to improve it, but that is a correct view; the arrangement in black and gold was a finished picture, I did not intend to do anything more to it.”


    “Now, Mr. Whistler. Can you tell me how long it took you to knock off that nocturne?”


    … “I beg your pardon?” (Laughter.)


    “Oh! I am afraid that I am using a term that applies rather perhaps to my own work. I should have said, How long did you take to paint that picture?”


    “Oh, no! permit me, I am too greatly flattered to think that you apply, to work of mine, any term that you are in the habit of using with reference to your own. Let us say then how long did I take to—’knock off,’ I think that is it—to knock off that nocturne; well, as well as I remember, about a day.”


    “Only a day?”


    “Well, I won’t be quite positive; I may have still put a few more touches to it the next day if the painting were not dry. I had better say then, that I was two days at work on it.”


    “Oh, two days! The labour of two days, then, is that for which you ask two hundred guineas!”


    “No;—I ask it for the knowledge of a lifetime.” (Applause.)


    “You have been told that your pictures exhibit some eccentricities?”


    “Yes; often.” (Laughter.)


    “You send them to the galleries to incite the admiration of the public?”


    “That would be such vast absurdity on my part, that I don’t think I could.” (Laughter.)


    “You know that many critics entirely disagree with your views as to these pictures?”


    “It would be beyond me to agree with the critics.”


    “You don’t approve of criticism then?”

    Arrangement in Black, No. 3: Sir Henry Irving as Philip II of Spain

      James McNeill Whistler
      Arrangement in Black, No. 3:
      Sir Henry Irving as Philip II of Spain
      1876
      Oil on canvas
      215.3 x 108.6 cm
      © 2000–2009 The Metropolitan Museum of Art


    “I should not disapprove in any way of technical criticism by a man whose whole life is passed in the practice of the science which he criticises; but for the opinion of a man whose life is not so passed I would have as little regard as you would, if he expressed an opinion on law.”


    “You expect to be criticised?”


    “Yes; certainly. And I do not expect to be affected by it, until it becomes a case of this kind. It is not only when criticism is inimical that I object to it, but also when it is incompetent. I hold that none but an artist can be a competent critic.”


    “You put your pictures upon the garden wall, Mr. Whistler, or hang them on the clothes line, don’t you—to mellow?”


    “I do not understand.”


    “Do you not put your paintings out into the garden?”


    “Oh! I understand now. I thought, at first, that you were perhaps again using a term that you are accustomed to yourself. Yes; I certainly do put the canvases into the garden that they may dry in the open air while I am painting, but I should be sorry to see them ‘mellowed.’”


    “Why do you call Mr. Irving ‘an arrangement in black’?” (Laughter.)


    Mr. Baron Huddleston: “It is the picture and not Mr. Irving that is the arrangement.”


    A discussion ensued as to the inspection of the pictures, and incidentally Baron Huddleston remarked that a critic must be competent to form an opinion, and bold enough to express that opinion in strong terms if necessary.


    The Attorney-General complained that no answer was given to a written application by the defendant’s solicitors for leave to inspect the pictures which the plaintiff had been called upon to produce at the trial. The Witness replied that Mr. Arthur Severn had been to his studio to inspect the paintings, on behalf of the defendant, for the purpose of passing his final judgment upon them and settling that question for ever.


    Cross-examination continued: “What was the subject of the nocturne in blue and silver belonging to Mr. Grahame?”


    “A moonlight effect on the river near old Battersea Bridge.”


    “What has become of the nocturne in black and gold?”


    “I believe it is before you.” (Laughter.)



     James McNeill Whistler Nocturne: Blue and Gold - Old Battersea Bridge c 1872-5  Oil on canvas  922 x 760 x 83 mm Presented by The Art Fund 1905


    James McNeill Whistler
    Nocturne: Blue and Gold - Old Battersea Bridge
    c 1872-5
    Oil on canvas
    922 x 760 x 83 mm
    Presented by The Art Fund 1905


    The picture called the nocturne in blue and silver, was now produced in Court.


    “That is Mr. Grahame’s picture. It represents Battersea Bridge by moonlight.”


    Baron Huddleston: “Which part of the picture is the bridge?” (Laughter.)


    His Lordship earnestly rebuked those who laughed. And witness explained to his Lordship the composition of the picture.


    “Do you say that this is a correct representation of Battersea Bridge?”


    “I did not intend it to be a ‘correct’ portrait of the bridge. It is only a moonlight scene and the pier in the centre of the picture may not be like the piers at Battersea Bridge as you know them in broad daylight. As to what the picture represents that depends upon who looks at it. To some persons it may represent all that is intended; to others it may represent nothing.”


    “The prevailing colour is blue?”


    “Perhaps.”


    “Are those figures on the top of the bridge intended for people?”


    “They are just what you like.”


    “Is that a barge beneath?”


    “Yes. I am very much encouraged at your perceiving that. My whole scheme was only to bring about a certain harmony of colour.”


    “What is that gold-coloured mark on the right of the picture like a cascade?”


    “The ‘cascade of gold’ is a firework.”




    A second nocturne in blue and silver was then produced.


    Witness: “That represents another moonlight scene on the Thames looking up Battersea Reach. I completed the mass of the picture in one day.”


    The Court then adjourned. During the interval the jury visited the Probate Court to view the pictures which had been collected in the Westminster Palace Hotel.


    After the Court had re-assembled the “Nocturne in Black and Gold” was again produced, and Mr. Whistler was further cross-examined by the Attorney-General: “The picture represents a distant view of Cremorne with a falling rocket and other fireworks. It occupied two days, and is a finished picture. The black monogram on the frame was placed in its position with reference to the proper decorative balance of the whole.”


    “You have made the study of Art your study of a lifetime. Now, do you think that anybody looking at that picture might fairly come to the conclusion that it had no peculiar beauty?”


    “I have strong evidence that Mr. Ruskin did come to that conclusion.”


    “Do you think it fair that Mr. Ruskin should come to that conclusion?”


    “What might be fair to Mr. Ruskin I cannot answer.”


    “Then you mean, Mr. Whistler, that the initiated in technical matters might have no difficulty in understanding your work. But do you think now that you could make me see the beauty of that picture?”


    The witness then paused, and examining attentively the Attorney-General’s face and looking at the picture alternately, said, after apparently giving the subject much thought, while the Court waited in silence for his answer:


    No! Do you know I fear it would be as hopeless as for the musician to pour his notes into the ear of a deaf man. (Laughter.)


    “I offer the picture, which I have conscientiously painted, as being worth two hundred guineas. I have known unbiassed people express the opinion that it represents fireworks in a night-scene. I would not complain of any person who might simply take a different view.”


    The Court then adjourned.






    The Attorney-General, in resuming his address on behalf of the defendant on Tuesday, said he hoped to convince the jury, before his case closed, that Mr. Ruskin’s criticism upon the plaintiff’s pictures was perfectly fair and bonâ fide;[1] and that, however severe it might be, there was nothing that could reasonably be complained of…. Let them examine the nocturne in blue and silver, said to represent Battersea Bridge. What was that structure in the middle? Was it a telescope or a fire-escape? Was it like Battersea Bridge? What were the figures at the top of the bridge? And if they were horses and carts, how in the name of fortune were they to get off? Now, about these pictures, if the plaintiff’s argument was to avail, they must not venture publicly to express an opinion, or they would have brought against them an action for damages.


    After all, Critics had their uses.[2] He should like to know what would become of Poetry, of Politics, of Painting, if Critics were to be extinguished? Every Painter struggled to obtain fame.


    No Artist could obtain fame, except through criticism.[3]




      [1] “Enter now the great room with the Veronese at the end of it, for which the painter (quite rightly) was summoned before the Inquisition of State.”—Prof. John Ruskin: Guide to Principal Pictures, Academy of Fine Arts, Venice. [ Feast in the House of Levi ]


      [2] “I have now given up ten years of my life to the single purpose of enabling myself to judge rightly of art … earnestly desiring to ascertain, and to be able to teach, the truth respecting art; also knowing that this truth was by time and labour definitely ascertainable.”—Prof. Ruskin: Modern Painters, Vol. III.

      “Thirdly, that TRUTHS OF COLOUR ARE THE LEAST IMPORTANT OF ALL TRUTHS.”—Mr. Ruskin, Prof, of Art: Modern Painters, Vol. I. Chap. V.

      “And that colour is indeed a most unimportant characteristic of objects, would be further evident on the slightest consideration. The colour of plants is constantly changing with the season … but the nature and essence of the thing are independent of these changes. An oak is an oak, whether green with spring, or red with winter; a dahlia is a dahlia, whether it be yellow or crimson; and if some monster hunting florist should ever frighten the flower blue, still it will be a dahlia; but not so if the same arbitrary changes could be effected in its form. Let the roughness of the bark and the angles of the boughs be smoothed or diminished, and the oak ceases to be an oak; but let it retain its universal structure and outward form, and though its leaves grow white, or pink, or blue, or tri-colour, it would be a white oak, or a pink oak, or a republican oak, but an oak still.”—John Ruskin, Esq., M.A., Teacher and Slade Prof. of Fine Arts: Modern Painters.


      REFLECTION:
      “In conduct and in conversation,
      It did a sinner good to hear
      Him deal in ratiocination!”


      [3] “Canaletto, had he been a great painter, might have cast his reflections wherever he chose … but he is a little and a bad painter.”—Mr. Ruskin, Art Critic.

      “I repeat there is nothing but the work of Prout which is true, living, or right in its general impression, and nothing, therefore, so inexhaustively agreeable” (sic).—J. Ruskin, Art Professor: Modern Painters.





    … As to these pictures, they could only come to the conclusion that they were strange fantastical conceits, not worthy to be called works of Art.


    … Coming to the libel, the Attorney-General said it had been contended that Mr. Ruskin was not justified in interfering with a man’s livelihood. But why not? Then it was said, “Oh! you have ridiculed Mr. Whistler’s pictures.” If Mr. Whistler disliked ridicule, he should not have subjected himself to it by exhibiting publicly such productions. If a man thought a picture was a daub [4] he had a right to say so, without subjecting himself to a risk of an action.


    He would not be able to call Mr. Ruskin, as he was far too ill to attend; but, if he had been able to appear, he would have given his opinion of Mr. Whistler’s work in the witness-box.


    He had the highest appreciation for completed pictures;[5] and he required from an Artist that he should possess something more than a few flashes of genius![6]




      [4] “Now it is evident that in Rembrandt’s system, while the contrasts are not more right than with Veronese, the colours are all wrong from beginning to end.”—John Ruskin, Art Authority. he had a right to say so, without subjecting himself to a risk of an action.


      [5] “I was pleased by a little unpretending modern German picture at Dusseldorf, by Bosch, representing a boy carving a model of his sheep dog in wood.”—J. Ruskin: Modern Painters.


      [6]“I have just said that every class of rock, earth and cloud must be known by the painter with geologic and meteorologic accuracy.”—Slade Prof. Ruskin: Modern Painters.





    Mr. Ruskin entertaining those views, it was not wonderful that his attention should be attracted to Mr. Whistler’s pictures. He subjected the pictures, if they chose, [7] to ridicule and contempt. Then Mr. Ruskin spoke of “the ill-educated [8] conceit of the artist, so nearly approaching the action of imposture.” If his pictures were mere extravagances, how could it redound to the credit of Mr. Whistler to send them to the Grosvenor Gallery to be exhibited? Some artistic gentleman from Manchester, Leeds, or Sheffield might perhaps be induced to buy one of the pictures because it was a Whistler, and what Mr. Ruskin meant was that he might better have remained in Manchester, Sheffield, or Leeds, with his money in his pocket. It was said that the term “ill-educated conceit” ought never to have been applied to Mr. Whistler, who had devoted the whole of his life to educating himself in Art; [9] but Mr. Ruskin’s views [10] as to his success did not accord with those of Mr. Whistler. The libel complained of said also, “I never expected to hear a coxcomb ask two hundred guineas for flinging a pot of paint in the public’s face.” What was a coxcomb? He had looked the word up, and found that it came from the old idea of the licensed jester who wore a cap and bells with a cock’s comb in it, who went about making jests for the amusement of his master and family. If that were the true definition, then Mr. Whistler should not complain, because his pictures had afforded a most amusing jest! He did not know when so much amusement had been afforded to the [11] British Public as by Mr. Whistler’s pictures. He had now finished. Mr. Ruskin had lived a long life without being attacked, and no one had attempted to control his pen through the medium of a jury. Mr. Ruskin said, through him, as his counsel, that he did not retract one syllable of his criticism, believing it was right. Of course, if they found a verdict against Mr. Ruskin, he would have to cease writing, [12] but it would be an evil day for Art, in this country, when Mr. Ruskin would be prevented from indulging in legitimate and proper criticism, by pointing out what was beautiful and what was not. [13]




      [7] “Vulgarity, dulness, or impiety will indeed always express themselves through art, in brown and gray, as in Rembrandt.”—Prof. John Ruskin: Modern Painters.


      [8 ]“It is physically impossible, for instance, rightly to draw certain forms of the upper clouds with a brush; nothing will do it but the palette knife with loaded white after the blue ground is prepared.”—John Ruskin, Prof. of Painting.


      [9] “And thus we are guided, almost forced, by the laws of nature, to do right in art. Had granite been white and marble speckled (and why should this not have been, but by the definite Divine appointment for the good of man?), the huge figures of the Egyptian would have been as oppressive to the sight as cliffs of snow, and the Venus de Medicis would have looked like some exquisitely graceful species of frog.”—Slade Professor John Ruskin.


      [10] “The principal object in the foreground of Turner’s ‘Building of Carthage’ is a group of children sailing toy boats. The exquisite choice of this incident … is quite as appreciable when it is told, as when it is seen—it has nothing to do with the technicalities of painting; … such a thought as this is something far above all art.”—John Ruskin, Art Professor: Modern Painters.


      REFLECTION:
      “Be not righteous overmuch, neither make thyself overwise; why shouldest thou destroy thyself!”


      [11] “It is especially to be remembered that drawings of this simple character [Prout's and W. Hunt's] were made for these same middle classes, exclusively; and even for the second order of middle classes, more accurately expressed by the term ‘bourgeoisie.’ They gave an unquestionable tone of liberal-mindedness to a suburban villa, and were the cheerfullest possible decorations for a moderate sized breakfast parlour, opening on a nicely mown lawn.”—John Ruskin, Art Professor: Notes on S. Prout and W. Hunt.


      [12] “It seems to me, and seemed always probable, that I might have done much more good in some other way.”—Prof. John Ruskin, Art Teacher: Modern Painters, Vol. V.


      [13] “Give thorough examination to the wonderful painting, as such, in the great Veronese … and then, for contrast with its reckless power, and for final image to be remembered of sweet Italian art in its earnestness … the Beata Catherine Vigri’s St. Ursula, … I will only say in closing, as I said of the Vicar’s picture in beginning, that it would be well if any of us could do such things nowadays—and more especially if our vicars and young ladies could.”—John Ruskin, Prof. of Fine Art: Guide to Principal Pictures, Academy of Fine Arts, Venice.





    Evidence was then called on behalf of the defendant. Witnesses for the defendant, Messrs. Edward Burne-Jones, Frith, and Tom Taylor.




    Edward Burne-Jones  ‘The Beguiling of Merlin’ 1872-7 Oil on canvas, 186 x 111cm <a href="http://www.liverpoolmuseums.org.uk/ladylever/visit/">Lady Lever Art Gallery</a>

      Edward Burne-Jones
      ‘The Beguiling of Merlin’
      1872-7
      Oil on canvas
      186 x 111cm
      www.liverpoolmuseums.org.uk/ladylever/


    Mr. Edward Burne-Jones called.


    Mr. Bowen, by way of presenting him properly to the consideration of the Court, proceeded to read extracts of eulogistic appreciation of this artist from the defendant’s own writings.


    The examination of witness then commenced; and in answer to Mr. Bowen, Mr. Jones said: “I am a painter, and have devoted about twenty years to the study. I have painted various works, including the ‘Days of Creation’ and ‘Venus’s Mirror,’ both of which were exhibited at the Grosvenor Gallery in 1877. I have also exhibited ‘Deferentia,’ ‘Fides,’ ‘St. George,’ and ‘Sybil.’ I have one work, ‘Merlin and Vivian,’ now being exhibited in Paris. In my opinion complete finish ought to be the object of all artists. A picture ought not to fall short of what has been for ages considered complete finish.”


    Mr. Bowen: “Do you see any art quality in that nocturne, Mr. Jones?”


    Mr. Jones: “Yes … I must speak the truth, you know”…. (Emotion.)


    Mr. Bowen: … “Yes. Well, Mr. Jones, what quality do you see in it?”


    Mr. Jones: “Colour. It has fine colour, and atmosphere.”


    Mr. Bowen: “Ah. Well, do you consider detail and composition essential to a work of Art?”


    Mr. Jones: “Most certainly I do.”


    Mr. Bowen: “Then what detail and composition do you find in this nocturne?”


    Mr. Jones: “Absolutely none.”[14]




      [13] “Of the estimate which shall be formed of Mr. Jones’s own work….

      “His work, first, is simply the only art-work at present produced in England which will be received by the future as ‘classic’ in its kind—the best that has been or could be.”—Prof. Ruskin: Fors Clavigera, July 2, 1877.

      “The action of imagination of the highest power in Burne Jones, under the conditions of scholarship, of social beauty, and of social distress, which necessarily aid, thwart, and colour it in the nineteenth century, are alone in art,—unrivalled in their kind; and I know that these will be immortal, as the best things the mid-nineteenth century in England could do, in such true relations as it had, through all confusion, retained with the paternal and everlasting Art of the world.”—John Ruskin, LL.D.: Fors Clavigera, July 2, 1877.



      [14] REFLECTION:
      There is a cunning condition of mind that requires to know. On the Stock Exchange this insures safe investment. In the painting trade this would induce certain picture-makers to cross the river at noon, in a boat, before negotiating a Nocturne, in order to make sure of detail on the bank, that honestly the purchaser might exact, and out of which he might have been tricked by the Night!





    Mr. Bowen: “Do you think two hundred guineas a large price for that picture?”


    Mr. Jones: “Yes. When you think of the amount of earnest work done for a smaller sum.”


    Examination continued: “Does it show the finish of a complete work of art?”


    “Not in any sense whatever. The picture representing a night scene on Battersea Bridge, is good in colour, but bewildering in form; and it has no composition and detail. A day or a day and a half seems a reasonable time within which to paint it. It shows no finish—it is simply a sketch. The nocturne in black and gold has not the merit of the other two pictures, and it would be impossible to call it a serious work of art. Mr. Whistler’s picture is only one of the thousand failures to paint night. The picture is not worth two hundred guineas.”


    Mr. Bowen here proposed to ask the witness to look at a picture of Titian,[15] in order to show what finish was.[16]


    Mr. Serjeant Parry objected.


    Mr. Baron Huddleston: “You will have to prove that it is a Titian.”


    Mr. Bowen: “I shall be able to do that.”


    Mr. Baron Huddleston: “That can only be by repute. I do not want to raise a laugh, but there is a well-known case of ‘an undoubted’ Titian being purchased with a view to enabling students and others to find out how to produce his wonderful colours. With that object the picture was rubbed down, and they found a red surface, beneath which they thought was the secret, but on continuing the rubbing they discovered a full length portrait of George III. in uniform!”


    The witness was then asked to look at the picture, and he said: “It is a portrait of Doge Andrea Gritti, and I believe it is a real Titian. It shows finish. It is a very perfect sample of the highest finish of ancient art.[17] The flesh is perfect, the modelling of the face is round and good. That is an ‘arrangement in flesh and blood!’”


    The witness having pointed out the excellences of that portrait, said: “I think Mr. Whistler had great powers at first, which he has not since justified. He has evaded the difficulties of his art, because the difficulty of an artist increases every day of his professional life.”


    Cross-examined: “What is the value of this picture of Titian?”—”That is a mere accident of the saleroom.”


    “Is it worth one thousand guineas?”—”It would be worth many thousands to me.”




      [15] “I believe the world may see another Titian, and another Raffaelle, before it sees another Rubens.”—Mr. Ruskin.


      [16] … “The Butcher’s Dog, in the corner of Mr. Mulready’s ‘Butt,’ displays, perhaps, the most wonderful, because the most dignified, finish … and assuredly the most perfect unity of drawing and colour which the entire range of ancient and modern art can exhibit. Albert Durer is, indeed, the only rival who might be suggested.”—John Ruskin Slade Professor of Art: Modern Painters.


      [17] … “I feel entitled to point out that the picture by Titian, produced in the case of Whistler v. Ruskin, is an early specimen of that master, and does not represent adequately the style and qualities which have obtained for him his great reputation—one obvious point of difference between this and his more mature work being the far greater amount of finish—I do not say completeness—exhibited in it … and as the picture was brought forward with a view to inform the jury as to the nature of the work of the greatest painter, and more especially as to the high finish introduced in it, it is evident that it was calculated to produce an erroneous impression on their minds, if indeed any one present at the inquiry can hold that those gentlemen were in any way fitted to understand the issues raised therein.—I am, Sir, your obedient servant,

      A. MOORE.
      “Nov. 28.”
      Extract of a letter to the Editor of the Echo.




    The Derby Day

      William Powell Frith
      The Derby Day
      1856-8
      Oil on canvas
      1405 x 2640 x 140 mm painting
      The Tate Collection


    Mr. Frith was then examined: “I am an R.A.; and have devoted my life to painting. I am a member of the Academies of various countries. I am the author of the ‘Railway Station,’ ‘Derby Day,’ and ‘Rake’s Progress.’ I have seen Mr. Whistler’s pictures, and in my opinion they are not serious works of art.


    The nocturne in black and gold is not a serious work to me. I cannot see anything of the true representation of water and atmosphere in the painting of ‘Battersea Bridge.’ There is a pretty colour which pleases the eye, but there is nothing more. To my thinking, the description of moonlight is not true. The picture is not worth two hundred guineas. Composition and detail are most important matters in a picture. In our profession men of equal merit differ as to the character of a picture. One may blame, while another praises, a work. I have not exhibited at the Grosvenor Gallery. I have read Mr. Ruskin’s works.”


    Mr. Frith here got down.




      “It was just a toss up whether I became an Artist or an Auctioneer.”
      W. P. Frith, R.A.



      REFLECTION:
      He must have tossed up.


      REFLECTION:
      A decidedly honest man—I have not heard of him since.





    Mr. Tom Taylor—Poor Law Commissioner, Editor of Punch, and so forth—and so forth:—”I am an art critic of long standing. I have been engaged in this capacity by the Times, and other journals, for the last twenty years. I edited the ‘Life of Reynolds,’ and ‘Haydon.’ I have always studied art. I have seen these pictures of Mr. Whistler’s when they were exhibited at the Dudley and the Grosvenor Galleries. The ‘Nocturne’ in black and gold I do not think a serious work of art.” The witness here took from the pockets of his overcoat copies of the Times, and with the permission of the Court, read again with unction his own criticism, to every word of which he said he still adhered. “All Mr. Whistler’s work is unfinished. It is sketchy. He, no doubt, possesses artistic qualities, and he has got appreciation of qualities of tone, but he is not complete, and all his works are in the nature of sketching. I have expressed, and still adhere to the opinion, that these pictures only come ‘one step nearer pictures than a delicately tinted wall-paper.’”



      REFLECTION:
      To perceive in Ruskin’s army Tom Taylor, his champion—whose opinion he prizes—Mr. Frith, his ideal—was gratifying. But to sit and look at Mr. Burne Jones, in common cause with Tom Taylor—whom he esteems, and Mr. Frith—whom he respects—conscientiously appraising the work of a confrère—was a privilege!!





    This ended the case for the defendant.


    Verdict for plaintiff.
    Damages one farthing.