J.W. Waterhouse

Unlike many picture collectors, Mr. Aird has never regarded his "hobby" in the light of an investment. It has been from the first a labour of love. To borrow a well-worn phrase, he has bought his pictures "to live with." They are not arranged in the formal lines of a gallery; they adorn every room of the house; its doors, its lobbies, and its staircases to the very top, are ornamented with them. They are, therefore, the daily companions and friends of their owner, and of his family and their friends. Many of them have owed their execution of his own suggestion; others have been specially painted by their artists for the places where they now hang; every one seems to bear the impress of care and forethought which have selected them on account of some definite and precise reason, not very far to find. It may be stated at once that nearly all Mr. Aird's pictures are of the modern English school.
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On either side of the large folding doors hangs a work of Mr. J. W. Waterhouse's. One is 'Whispered Words', a Greek girl and her lover standing in colloquy together, the artist's earliest success, and its companion, 'Offerings to the Gods.'

"Among the painters who are still resisting the temptation to get into a safe groove and live happily ever after is Mr. J. W. Waterhouse, who has painted a striking picture of Ulysses and the Sirens. But he has counted without the influence of the naturalists, who, if they have not made their own pictures widely popular, have at least destroyed our toleration of the false effects produced by painting figures in studio lights, and fitting them with open air backgrounds. If those Sirens's faces were painted on panels as heads of Madonnas seated in carven niches, and hung in the subdued light of some cathedral, they might pass unchallenged."

IMAGINATIVE ART
On the borderland between this and the foregoing category [MONUMENTAL AND DECORATIVE ART] are a group of works to which we are now about to refer. It is evident that in his 'Ulysses and the Sirens' (Royal Academy), Mr. J. W. Waterhouse has put forth all his powers as an executant, and that it has been to him a labour of love. In a narrow rock-bound cleft of the sapphire-blue Mediterranean is depicted the ship of Odysseus, painted with strange archaic devices; the central figure is that of the Wanderer himself, bound with strong bonds to the mast, while his companions, with ears carefully guarded against the fatal sweetness of the Siren song, are busily plying their oars. Close round the vessel, and even on its very edge, have gathered the Sirens, revealing the heads and the unbound tresses of beautiful women, with the bodies of strong birds of prey. This new realisation of the Odyssean legend is a quaint and curious one, wrought out with an abundance of exquisite detail, especially in the heads of the Sirens, to whom Mr. Waterhouse has, however, too uniformly given the beautiful type of English womanhood. Yet with all this the impression asserts itself that the backbone of the subject is lacking. The temptation, the involuntary effort of Odysseus to follow the ravishing sounds is hardly suggested, while his companions remain stolid and little moved; the clashing elements of struggle, mental and physical, which constitute the drama are therefore absent. And then these strange birds with human heads are rather Harpies than Sirens, and we feel too much that if the piercing sweetness of their song should not prevail, they may too easily rend with those cruel eagle-claws of theirs the coveted victims. Infinitely more beautiful is the Homeric version, in which the sea-nymphs accursed of the gods recline on the shore of their fatal island, and thither seek to lure with their heart-searching music the unwary mariner. The same painter's 'Circe' (New Gallery) is at least as remarkable as the performance just discussed, in virtue of the beauty and certainty of the execution, and the happy fashion in which the accessories are devised; while here again exception might be taken to the handling of the subject. The 'Flora' (Royal Academy) is a little study of rare charm, which some reconsideration of the accessory detail would render quite perfect.

Professor Herkomer, R.A., has accepted from the Government of Victoria an invitation to assume the duty of purchasing works of Art for the National Gallery now being founded at Melbourne. In this connection four pictures have already been purchased by Mr. Herkomer, including 'Ulysses and the Sirens' by Mr. J. W. Waterhouse, A.R.A.; 'The Crisis,' by Mr. F. Dicksee, A.R.A.; and a cattle-piece by Mr. R. Meyerheim.

Mr. Waterhouse has a study of a subject from a poem that Mr. Pendennis, the novelist (whom I knew well), was very fond of when he first came on the town: "The Lady of Shalott." It represents a very delicate invalid, in a boat, under a counterpane. I remember the poem ran (it was by young Mr. Tennyson):-

They crossed themselves, their stars they blest,
Knight, minstrel, abbot, squire, and guest.
There lay a parchment on her breast
That puzzled more than all the rest
The well-fed wits of Camelot:
"The web was woven curiously,
The charm is broken utterly;
Draw near and fear not, this is I
The Lady of Shalott."

I admit that the wonder and dismay of the "well-fed wits," if the Lady was like Mr. Waterhouse's picture of her, do not surprise me. But I confess I do not understand modern poetry, nor, perhaps, modern painting. Where is historical Art? Where is Alfred and the Cake--a subject which, as is well known, I discovered in my researches in history. Where is "Udolpho in the Tower"? or the "Duke of Rothsay the Fourth Day after He was Deprived of his Victuals"? or "King John Signing Magna Charta"? They are gone with the red curtain, the brown tree, the storm in the background. Art is revolutionary, like everything else in these times, when Treason itself, in the form of a hoary apostate and reviewer of contemporary fiction, glares from the walls, and is painted by Royal--mark Royal!--Academicians!

Mr. Waterhouse's picture of "Circe poisoning the sea" (20) is finely painted, but the colour is of that peculiar intensity which he always affects when illustrating mythological subjects. The jealous Circe who pours poison from a clear glass bowl into the water in which her rival is going to bathe, seems to be most unnaturally tall, but the picture, speaking generally, is a very successful one.

Mr. Waterhouse's picture of "Circe Poisoning the Sea" is an excellent example of professional French painting. The drawing is planned out geometrically, the modelling is built up mechanically. The brush, filled with thick paint, works like a trowel. In the hands of the Dutch and Flemish artists the brush was in direct communication with the brain, and moved slowly or rapidly, changing from the broadest and most emphatic stroke to the most delicate and fluent touch according to the nature of the work. But here all is square and heavy. The colour scheme, the blue dress and the green water--how theatrical, how its richness reeks of the French studio! How cosmopolitan and pedantic is this would-be romantic work!

The first of these designs [by Rossetti] is founded on the last two verses of The Lady of Shalott on p.75. In the immediate foreground is the boat bearing its dead burthen, over whose head an arched covering supports burning candles, how there, and how lighted, known only to the designer. Indeed, it is amusing to compare Rossetti's independence in his treatment of the subject with the imitation of his idea by others who have followed him and pictured the same poem. For example, take Mr. J.W. Waterhouse's in other respects strikingly original conception, in which not only do three of Rossetti's candles appear, but also Mr. Holman Hunt's 'one great Reality' finds its place in the crucifix, above which they flare and gutter. One and all seem to forget that 'heavily the low sky' was 'raining.'*

* Since writing the above I have received a letter from Mr. Waterhouse, in which he says: 'With respect to the lighted candles in my picture, I made use of them merely as a means of completing the composition, my excuse being that lighted candles might have been used by the Lady of Shalott as a kind of devotional office before her death. I remember seeing in an engraving from a mediaeval manuscript a bier covered with candles.'

Ulysses and the Sirens. By J.W. Waterhouse, A.R.A, R.I.

According to the Homeric legend, when Ulysses, in his wanderings, came near the island where the Sirens dwelt, on the advice of the enchantress Circe he stopped the ears of his companions and caused himself to be tied to the mast of his vessel until the voices of these mythical beings who were supposed to have the power of alluring mariners to destruction by their sweet song, could no longer be heard.

In art the Sirens are usually represented with the bodies of women and the legs of birds, with or without wings, but appear more rarely with only the heads of women.

Prof. Herkomer, speaking of "Ulysses and the Sirens," says:- "Here we have what might be more definitely called imaginative art, i.e., the art of conjuring up the probable appearance of an ancient scene, and the subject is treated with a curious regard for Japanese art, and equally so for the art of the Greek vases. It was from one of the latter that he got the idea of the picture, and this is his authority for making Sirens such as we have always imagined harpies to be represented. The colour, fill and rich, is in no way impossible, but is distinctly agreeable. The painting is direct and simple, everything painted more or less at once (just the reverse method to that employed by Dicksee). But this does not mean that he gets what he desires at once; he may paint a part twenty times, but each time it will be complete. This is the French influence upon us."

John William Waterhouse was born of English parents at Rome in 1849. He studied at the Royal Academy, where he first exhibited in 1874. He was elected an A.R.A. in 1885. His picture, "The Magic Circle," was purchased under the terms of the Chantrey Bequest, in 1886. "Diogenes" is in the National Gallery, Sydney.

Purchased by Professor Herkomer in 1891. Canvas, 57 in x 73 in.

The Artists' General Benevolent Institution of Great Britain has distributed, since its establishment, in 1814, over $500,000 to needy artists and their families. The institution has now a yearly income of between $20,000 and $25,000. Sir John Millais, R.A.; J.W. Waterhouse, R.A., and Mr. Douglas Gordon are among the Trustees.

J.W. Waterhouse has been elected a Royal Academician, to fill the vacancy caused by the retirement of Mr. W.C.T. Dobson.

The classical and historial pictures of William B. Richmond, no less than his valuable portraits, are favorites with the London public; though the newest and most prominent names in late English art are those of J.W. Waterhouse and Solomon J. Solomon. Waterhouse chooses striking points of history, where his active imagination, contrasts, and gradation of color and dramatic arrangements, may produce original and unexpected effects. This is very observable in his "Herod and Mariamne," from the story of Josephus, in which his management of white is specially to be admired.

I went to the R.A. yesterday. Every one has turned portrait painter--Briton Riviere does ladies and their pet animals--Orchardson all portraits--Herkomer also. There is one picture I think beautiful. It is 'Hylas and the Nymphs'--the water is covered with water-lilies and the girls' heads above the water suggest larger water-lilies, somehow. They are beautiful, so is Hylas, so is the green water shaded with green trees--it is a beautiful picture--I forget the legend. Then there's one other that impressed me so much--I can't remember the man's name but I should think he's young and new. I think it is called 'Love's Baubles'. A boy goes along, his hair stuck full of butterflies and carrying a basket of fruits, followed by a train of girls trying to get them; some apples are dropped which the girls are picking up. The colour LOVELY--strong Rossetti; it's colour to its highest pitch, and to my mind it is splendid. There's a girl in front smiling--in a green dress lined with purple shot silk; she has red hair. Her dress is so beautifully painted. The ground is covered with daisies. I shall go on Monday and look again. There--it's all true.

Waterhouse, John William R.A., was born in Rome in 1849. His first important picture was "Sleep and his brother Death," exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1874. This was followed by "Miranda," 1875; "After the Dance" (hung on the line), 1876, and "The Emperor Honorius," a classical picture, the most important he had as yet painted, which is said to have been suggested by a passage in the "Antonia" of Wilkie Collins. The "Oracle" and the "Lady of Shalott," and "Circe" followed among many other works, and in 1895 Mr. Waterhouse achieved fame with his "St Cecilia," and with his "Pandora" in 1896. "Hylas and the Nymphs" was exhibited in 1897, and "Flora and the Zephyrs" and "Ariadne" in 1898. In 1899 he exhibited a portrait of Miss Molly Rickman. He was elected an A.R.A. in 1885, and R.A. ten years later. In April 1899 he was elected a member of the Athenaeum under Rule 2. Addresses: 6 Primrose Hill Studios, Regent's Park, N.W.; and Athenaeum.