William Nicholson

 

 

The Pallant House Gallery exhibition of William Nicholson was a fascinating visit. On the basis of this show, which looked to be a representative survey of the various types of his work – portraits, landscapes, still lifes, and book illustration – he strikes  me as immensely talented, but not achieving as much as I would have hoped in any of those categories. His later work seems to me very poor; many of his best works look to have been done before the end of the First World War, when he appeared to be more able to take risks.

In caricature, he had a genuine talent – the drawing of Queen Victoria was what made him famous, and his illustration of Rudyard Kipling is wonderfully evocative.

 

 

Portrait of his son Ben at age 7.

His portraits of children were sensitive, but there seem to be very few examples of adult portraits. He was good at painting women, following the style of Corot, with a dressing-up box in his studio so his models could adorn themselves with wild hats. Nicholson himself was quite a dandy – his polka-dot dressing gown appears in more than one image of him. Later portraits by him can be woeful, such as the Sidney and Beatrice Webb portraits (1928).

 

 

Nicholson can capture the wildness and elemental quality of some Sussex landscapes. He certainly followed Whistler in being prepared to eliminate any unnecessary detail to focus on only one or two objects.

There are few depictions of specific locations, but one stunning view of the Palace of the Popes in Avignon. Are there other, similar works? A landscape from Bengal could have been painted anywhere.

Still life

Nicholson chose simple objects, rarely a combination, and often depicted the reflections of light on a silver jug or vase. He shows talent, but many of the compositions appear to me rather sparse, not a satisfying mise-en-scene. One or two of the flower paintings are good, such as the Cyclamen (1936).

 

 

Caricature and illustration

Nicholson’s drawings and designs are full of life and movement. Even sketches for costumes have a satisfying vividness about them that makes them worth viewing in their own right, not just as preparatory sketches for a theatre play. They have a very characteristic thick  line, which I think must have been done with a carefully handled brush – there is little sign of Nicholson using an ink pen, although there are traces of pencil in many of the orks.

 

I’m afraid to say, despite William’s talent, his son Ben Nicholson goes beyond anything the father produced. Just one work in the permanent collection was enough to make this clear, an abstract work called “1946 (Still Life – Cerulean)”.