Sunday 3 March 2019

What to make of Whistler

The Red Dress, 1894
There are two Whistler exhibitions running concurrently at the Fitzwilliam, Cambridge museum. One is a travelling show that appears to have been mounted by the Hunterian Collection of the University of Glasgow, without any curatorial involvement from Cambridge, while, in true Fitzwilliam style, the other is from the Fitzwilliam’s own collection of prints - a completely independent exhibition. Intriguingly, you can sometimes see the same print in both exhibitions, but with different captions. The Fitzwilliam’s own captions look to me to be more informed about how the print was made, and often about the context.

What can we say about Whistler? One of the most cantankerous people who ever lived, is the first thing that comes to mind. Publishing a book about negative things people have said about you (The Gentle Art of Making Enemies) suggests a pretty feisty character, and pushing your brother-in-law through a plate glass window does somewhat reduce my sympathy for Mr Whistler.

There is no mention of the episode with the brother-in-law in the “Whistler and Nature” exhibition (curated by Patricia de Montfort, lecturer in history of art at Glasgow University, although there is no mention of her position in the catalogue). Here we have a rather sanitised Whistler, grouped by theme. Many of the drawings and prints are very small, and the exhibition’s strange insistence on roping the spectators back from the works means it is difficult to see them. By contrast, the Fitzwilliam’s own show does not prevent you getting close to the works, nor from photographing them. Incidentally, the “Nature” part of the Whistler and Nature show seems to be rather widely interpreted. It includes the female nude, studies of Venice and The Thames; I don’t know why the exhibition wasn’t simply called “Whistler in the Hunterian, Glasgow, with a few other works”.

Unfortunately, the catalogue follows the recent trend of not including all the works in the exhibition, nor even making it clear which of Whistler's works are included or not. Even more unfortunate, the best Whistler by far in the catalogue, the oil painting Wapping, from the Washington National Gallery of Art, is not included. 

Whistler’s nudes are a disappointment, at least based on this display. They appear to be a long series of females wearing some diaphanous clothing, with the aim of capturing the movement of the material. The result is simply rather vague and inconsequential. Some of Whistler’s oil paintings of seascapes capture much better the evanescent quality that he was evidently seeking.

Similarly, the exhibition’s attempt to link Whistler to contemporaries (Albert Moore, Japanese paintings) does not seem to be sufficiently clear. I didn’t see much of a link between the Moore painting and Whistler’s own work, nor did I recognise the Japanese elements pointed out to me in the captions. That doesn't mean they aren't there, simply that I didn't see them from the works displayed. 

The Kitchen, 1858
For me, the best works were the small oil paintings and some of the highly worked engravings, in which Whistler shows true skill in using the various print-making techniques he had learned. One print in particular, The Kitchen, 1858, achieves some wonderful broad areas of dark shading that I didn't think were possible from an engraving. Some of the lithographs look to be simply transmitting pencil shading to paper, without any intermediate printing process – truly remarkable. Apparently, the caption tells us, Whistler learned to draw not directly onto the plate but onto a sheet that was then transferred. However he did it, the results are superb - a good example is The Red Dress, 1894. 

No comments:

Post a Comment