WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE A VIEW FROM WHISTLER'S WINDOW WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE BY OTTO H. BACKER ILLUSTRATED WITH MANY REPRODUCTIONS OF WHISTLER'S WORK, AND OF ETCHINGS AND PHOTOGRAPHS BY THE AUTHOR NEW YORK THE CENTURY CO. 1909 Copyright, 1906, 1907, 1908, by The Century Co. Published September, igo8 THE DE VINNE PRESS THE GETTY CENTER UBRARY TO MY FRIEND, WILLIAM W. ANDREW, A.M., BY WHOSE AID AND KIND ASSISTANCE THIS BOOK WAS WRITTEN, AND TO MY WIFE, WHOSE ENCOURAGEMENT MADE POSSIBLE ITS COMPLETION. PREFACE The Venetian period in the life of James McNeill Whistler is, perhaps, the least familiar to his friends, yet a very impor- tant one in his career. It was my good fortune to know him intimately during the greater part of it. To me, it was a pleasant and helpful relationship which existed between us. After his death, I received many requests to write of this period from friends who knew of my acquaintance with him. This book is an answer to these solicitations and, if no other purpose be served, I trust that it will prove a source of enjoyment and help to those who wish to know the great modern master of art. O. H. B. Bronxville, New York. September, 1907 PUBLISHERS' NOTE TO SECOND EDITION Miss Birnie Philip, executrix under the will of the late James McNeill Whistler, having objected to the publication in the first edition of this book of letters written by Mr. Whistler, these letters have been withdrawn and will not ap- pear in this or subsequent editions. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS A View from Whistler's Window . Frontispiece From an etching by Otto H. Bacher PAGE- View from Whistler's Window — Four States 6 From an etching by Otto H. Bacher View of the Castello Quarter from near the Casa Jankovitz, where Whistler Lodged 15 From an etching by Otto H. Bacher The Bathing-ground where Whistler Practised Diving 11 From an etching by Otto H. Bacher A View from Whistler's Window ... 27 From an etching by Otto H. Bacher Ponte del Pistor, a favorite spot of Whistler's 38 From an etching by Otto H. Bacher Whistler in his Tite Street Studio ... 43 Photographed by Otto H. Bacher, with "detective" camera, before the days of the kodak ix LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE Nocturnal Note — Crayon Drawing by- Whistler 53 Owned by Otto H. Bacher Looking Across the Grand Canal from the Salute 64 Negative made by Otto H. Bacher, 18 85-18 86 Nocturne 69 From a lithograph by Whistler A. Symphony 80 From a lithograph by " Spy " Limehouse 85 From a lithograph by Whistler Ponte del Pistor, a favorite spot of Whistler's 95 From an etching by Otto H. Bacher Early Morning 106 From a lithograph by Whistler Hammer and Anvil used by Whistler . .120 A Sheet of Old Venetian Paper showing Water-Mark 125 X LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE Boats at Mooring — Evening — Billingsgate Thames Series 132 From an etching by Whistler Venice 141 From an etching by Whistler " The Mast " — First State of Plate ... 148 From an etching by Whistler " The Mast " — Finished State .... 149 From an etching by Whistler Portrait of Whistler 157 From the soft-ground etching by Rajon. (By permission of Frederick Keppel, Esq. ) Nocturne-Salute — Early State . . . .160 From an etching by Whistler Nocturne-Salute — Later State . . . .161 From an etching" by Whistler Nocturne — Early State 167 From an etching by Whistler Nocturne — Finished Plate 167 From an etching by Whistler xi LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE The Traghetto — First Plate . . . . .174 From an etching by Whistler The Traghetto — Early State of Second Plate 175 From an etching by Whistler The Traghetto — Second State of Second Plate 182 From an etching by Whistler "The Doorway" — Early State . . . .188 From an etching by Whistler "The Doorway" — Later State . . . .189 From an etching by Whistler The Renaissance Door 195 From a photograph Ponte del Piovan — Early State . . . .210 From an etching by Whistler Ponte del Piovan — Completed State . .211 From an etching by Whistler San Giorgio — Early State 222 From an etching by Whistler San Giorgio — Later State . . . . . . 223 From an etching by Whistler xii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE "The Garden" — Early State 234 From an etching by Whistler "The Garden" — Later State 235 From an etching by Whistler San Biagio — Early State 246 From an etching by Whistler San Biagio — Later State 247 From an etching by Whistler The Little Salute 254 From an etching by Whistler A Quiet Canal 263 From an etching by Whistler Upright Venice — (Detail) 270 From an etching by Whistler Upright Venice 271 From an etching by Whistler Xlll WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE I 1 you know that Whist- I I ler is in Venice*?" was some — one's casual remark to a group of young artists seated about a table in the Piazza San Marco, near the Campa- nile. Had that exquisite landmark of Venice fallen then and there, instead of some years later, I do not believe I should have been more astonished than I was when I heard that delightful bit of news. 1:33 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE On further inquiry, I satisfied myself that there was no mistake in the report, and also ascertained that the painter had arrived some time during the previous winter, and had completed many etchings and pastels, under the auspices of the Fine Arts Society of London. One day, some time later, as several of us were leaving the Academy of Fine Arts, we saw the American consul, Mr. Grist, and a curious, sailorlike stranger coming down the steps of the iron bridge that crosses the Grand Canal. The latter was short, thin, and wiry, with a head that seemed large and out of proportion to the lithe figure. His large, wide- brimmed, soft, brown hat was tilted far back, and suggested a brown halo. It was a background for his curly black hair and 1:43 I.- First state : Etched from nature in acid bath Second state : Same with addition of boats in foreground in dry-point Seventh and final state : Substitution of new vessels, etched VIEW FROM WHISTLER'S WINDOW WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE singular white lock, high over his right eye, like a fluffy feather carelessly left where it had lodged. A dark sack-coat almost covered an extremely low turned- down collar, while a narrow black ribbon did service as a tie, the long pennant-like ends of which, flapping about, now and then hit his single eyeglass. "These are all American boys," I heard the consul say, and when we reached him, he said, indicating us all, with a motion of his hand: "Boys, let me introduce you to Mr. Whistler." "Whistler is charmed," was the greet- ing to each one, as we shook his hand. When my turn came, the consul said, "Mr. Whistler, this is the boy who etches." "Ah, indeed I Whistler is quite 1:71 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE charmed, and will be glad to see your work." He was charming and gracious to all, now and then uttering his odd, short, piercing "Ha I ha I" Later, as I knew him better, I learned that laugh so well that I could readily distinguish whether it was a signal of danger or of peace. I next met him at a trattoria where he and I and one other person were guests at dinner of Mr. Grist. Whistler had a fund of pleasant things to talk about and I was soon put at my ease. I was fasci- nated with his pleasant face, voice, keen, nervous eyes, and long, shapely hands. The "white feather," as he called his sin- gle white lock of hair, attracted my at- tention all the evening. His talk was full of surprising touches, — not unlike C83 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE his positive one-stroke method with paint on canvas, that we now know as Whist- ler's, — and generally humorous and free from vulgarity, and always keen and witty. He seemed interested by the fact that I etched and knew all of his etch- ings, and my press (which was larger than the usual portable press) came in for a good share of attention. I told him that I brought it from Munich where it had been built from a design in the first edi- tion of Hamerton's "Etching and Etch- ers." I had to give him the exact size of the largest plate it was capable of print- ing. He asked, "Did you bring with you good ink from Germany? It cannot be found in Venice. Good I I will come and try your ink and press, and take a look at your collection of Rembrandts and the 1:93 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE prints you have of mine." This was the beginning of a friendship that lasted through life. "I am coming to see you soon. Good-night," were his last words. I did not see him again for a month, but it seemed longer, because I kept close to my lodgings, fearing that if I should go away I would miss him. I did this until my patience was exhausted ; then I went about my work and forgot the promised call. A score of students, all pupils of Mr. Frank Duveneck, who had been with that painter in his school in Germany and had followed him to Florence, had come on to Venice to be with him for the sum- mer, and half a dozen of us were living in the Casa Jankovitz, the rest being scattered about the immediate neighbor- Do: WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE hood. We led the average student life, all working enthusiastically in a vast field of new subjects, some of which could be reached only in our own little boats, which also served us as well for a frolic in the lagoons when the day's work was over. None of us was burdened with money, and we breakfasted or lunched in any place suited to our purse or near to our subjects. As a rule we dined "down- town," as we called any place near St. Mark's, and preferably at the restaurant where we would find Duveneck. One dismal, rainy Sunday many of my fellow-students had gradually congre- gated in my quarters. Not a bed, chair, or corner was unoccupied, and the room was thick with smoke, noise, and laugh- ter. The uproar within stifled the fury WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE of the storm and the torrents of rain swashing hard against the windows. Suddenly one voice, louder than the rest, was heard above the turmoil, crying, "Some one 's knocking. — Come in!" "Stay out I" yelled another, and with a bang a shoe struck the door, to wel- come a supposed companion trying some trick. In spite of the uproar, I thought I heard a gentle rap, so I opened the door. There stood Whistler, wet and smiling, asking in a gentle voice, amid a painful stillness : "May I come in?" And in he came. He accepted the situation charmingly, in the spirit of the fun. He received a warm welcome and dry clothes, and was soon the center of a WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE group of young fellows whom he de- lighted with his sparkling pleasantries. He liked our surroundings, was charmed with the vistas from our windows, and asked permission to come and sketch from them, which was eagerly given. On his way out he took a hasty look at my press, which was in a corner of another room. A few days later he came and worked from our windows, and this he continued to do almost daily. Sometimes he would work from one window with pastels, and from another window would begin an- other subject for late afternoon work, upon which he worked several afternoons until it was finished. Many of his well- known etchings and pastels were made from these windows. He was with us so 1^31 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE often, and knew us so well, that he never hesitated to come to my rooms at any time. About two weeks later he decided to move from his quarters on the opposite side of the Grand Canal, near the Church of the Frari, to our house, which was on the Riva near the Giardino Pubblico. Making his arrangements beforehand, he moved his goods in his gondola, arriving one sunny morning. He occupied a single room with two windows looking toward the Doge's Palace, San Giorgio, and the Salute. This probably attracted him more than anything else. Sur- rounded by all that was most beautiful in Venice, our quarters were wholly de- sirable. Signor Jankovitz, the proprietor, was an old Italian mender of clocks and D4] WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE compasses, while Signora Jankovitz rented rooms above his little shop. Most of the boys had purchased rugs, draperies, and antiques with which to fix up their rooms, but Whistler did not do this, having hardly anything in the way of decoration. The only adornment was a single small photograph from his cen- tral 'figure subject in the Peacock Room. I believe it was of the owner seated on a bank and pictured as a bird with golden feathers in the shape of coins. It was not pleasant. In a conspicuous place, he had a photograph of himself, with a most disagreeable sneer upon his face. He seemed to like it, and often said, "That is the way Whistler wants his enemies to see him." Our life in their house was one succes- 1:173 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE sion of happy incidents and covered over half a year. On clear, sunlight days, we often watched the fishermen coloring the sails of their boats which were moored in picturesque groups, near the Riva below our windows. Spreading the triangular canvas on the smooth, marble walks, they covered them with a mixture of dry paint and salt water, using a sponge with the dexterity of a brush. After both sides of the sail were covered, it was dried in the sun and dipped in the canal to remove the surplus paint. y II w HISTLER was always scru- pulously dressed, ordinarily wearing a sack-coat, white shirt with turned-down collar, and white duck trousers; but on rainy days he donned trousers to match his coat. A brown felt hat completed his costume. In wearing evening dress he always omitted the tie. While one might think that this would give him an unfinished look, it did not appear so badly as it might seem. He often said, "Only Whistler would do it." He always wore an eyeglass attached to a thin black cord — very rarely spectacles, D93 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE which served him only in close work upon etchings. When he was talking the glass was dropped. If he sat at one of the tables in the cafe, the clanging of the eye- glass accentuated Whistler's conversa- tion. If he were presented to any one it was dropped, and dangled to and fro from the neat cord for a few minutes, to be readjusted after some moments of fumbling. His monocle was always a source of entertainment; one could hardly be with Whistler and not be interested in the use he made of it in conversation. Although he used it incessantly, he rarely, if ever, broke one. He generally carried his wand, a Jap- anese bamboo cane, using it to emphasize his remarks, and accompanying its use by 1^02 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE his customary expression, "Don't you know !" In Venice I never saw him wear a top hat, although in London he always wore one, slightly pushed back to allow the white lock to peep out from the curly black hair. He rose early, worked strenuously, and retired late. He seemed to forget the ordinary hours for meals and would often have to be called over and over again, unfinished work frequently being taken in hand just at this time. He was a fas- tidious smoker, but not a continuous one. I never saw him smoke a cigar or a pipe or use any kind of tobacco other than the French. He would often stop in the middle of his work, roll a dainty cigarette of French tobacco, and smoke it. He had coffee and rolls in his room while the 1:233 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE rest of us went to some neighboring cafe. It was the same with luncheons, except that we often lunched with him. We frequently had at these times ' patate Americane," Whistler always saying, 'These potatoes are very large and sweet, but the nice, golden-yellow of the real American sweet potato is lacking. Otherwise they are good." We had muskmelons and watermel- ons; during the season, we bought all kinds of figs, from the little green ones to the big, red, coarse kind. Dinner was the great event of the day because usually Whistler was with us. He had the French habit of occasionally taking a glass of absinthe before this meal. We dined at some one of the numerous restaurants that were to be found in the 1:24: WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE neighborhood of the piazza, afterward strolling along to the Cafe Quadri or to the Cafe Florian, where we enjoyed our coffee in the open air, listening to the music, telling stories, and watching the thousands who came and went. Among the people whom we learned to know by sight were Richard Wagner, George Eliot and her husband, Mr. Cross, Ouida, Robert Browning, Meissonier, Martin Rico, Liszt, and other celebrities. Whistler had many friends outside of Duveneck's class of boys. Mr. Graham, an old forty-niner then resident in Ven- ice, was a great friend, and a man whose works Whistler greatly appreciated. John Sargent he looked upon as a clever man, but had no method of gaging him as he now stands. He visited in a social WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE way many houses of Americans living in Venice, and was much desired, for he had a very exceptional charm in his conversa- tion and a wonderful power of descrip- tion, so wonderful that he left a vivid impression upon the mind. His choice of words was always a marked feature, a characteristic which is admired in his writings. His manners were elegant. He could always adapt himself to any situation and, at the same time, retain his dignity and personality. Whistler was a brilliant talker and a great debater. I shall never forget my surprise when I heard him say for the first time : "Bacher, I am not arguing with you; I am telling you." I never forgot the lesson. Later I found that he had used this effectively in one of his letters [263 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE to the London "World," when he said: "Seriously, then, my Atlas, an etching does not depend, for its importance, upon its size. I am not arguing with you; I am telling you." He spoke French fluently, German less readily. His Italian was very good, particularly under excitement, though occasionally a French word slipped in unawares, adding to the picturesqueness. I recall that he con- sidered Poe our greatest poet. His fav- orite themes were the old Venetian painters. "Canaletto," he said, "could paint a white building against a white cloud. That was enough to make any man great." He thought a great deal of Tintoretto. One day we were visiting the Scuola di San Rocco, where numerous Tintorettos are incased high up in the 1:29: WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE walls. He climbed up with great diffi- culty, in order to get a close look at the technique of that master, and was in great glee over it, perhaps because it coin- cided well with his own. Paul Veronese and Titian were, in his own words, "great swells." Once or twice we spoke of the Barbizon school, and particularly of Corot. Many of his works I had seen in France, and I was enthusiastic on the sub- ject. In speaking of certain things of Corot's, he remarked, "They 've been done before." I objected to that, saying, "Who did them?' "Whistler," he observed. At the moment this struck me as a piece of whimsicality, but afterward, when I saw certain early work of Whistler's in WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE Liverpool, I felt there was some basis for it. Michelangelo he considered too much given to contortion in his masterpieces. As he recalled the figure of "Night," in the Medici Chapel, he distorted himself to illustrate his meaning. Among his say- ings, I recall these : "A tree should not be painted." "You cannot paint the sun." "You cannot paint the moon." "Can you imagine any one painting the Venus de Milo*?" "Paint should not be applied thick. It should be like breath on the sur- face of a pane of glass." He often spoke of Fantin Latour, whose work he seemed to like very much, especially his litho- graphs. Once when I was at work at the Ponte del Pis tor. Whistler joined me in my gon- 1:313 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE dola, saying: "This is a good subject. When you find one like this you should not do it, but come and tell Whistler." I replied with some boyish retort, which he disregarded, for I always found him the most considerate as well as the most de- lightful, mirth-loving companion and teacher. For three days he came down with me. He talked of art and his Lon- don experiences, particularly of his trial with Ruskin. He told me all about his scheme of the Peacock Room, making sketches to illustrate how he alternated his use of blue on gold and gold on blue. On our way home from one of these ex- peditions, we met a man against whom many of his bitterest shafts had been sent. I was in Whistler's gondola at the time, and, as the boats rubbed each other's l32l WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE sides, a very pleasant conversation en- sued. "Who was the man'?" I asked later. "Oh, Quilter," he answered. "I will tell you more of him at another time." Subsequently I found out that it was " 'Arry" Quilter, of whom he spoke in "The Gentle Art of Making Enemies." He seldom spoke of his career at West Point or in South America, but some one in Venice once told me that several years before Whistler had shipped on some kind of a fighting craft; he and the captain had fought, and Whistler came back with a black eye. Doubting the accuracy of this report, I repeated the story to him. "Yes," he said, "I shipped to Val- paraiso, and the captain and I did get l33l WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE into some sort of a tussle. I believe I did have a black eye," he added, in a dep- recating sort of way, but was careful to add that it was an honorable proceeding. He spoke of some paintings he had made in the harbor and of vessels anchored there. Since then a story came to me that several of these paintings were sold for a trifling sum, and that they had disap- peared. One day I said to him, "Jimmie, they say you fought with Seymour Haden in a Paris cafe, and that you got the worst of it." "Yes," he replied, 'we fought,— let me tell you about it. He got my head under his arm and began punching me in the face, and then I pushed him through the window." C343 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE At this time in his life Whistler was not in the good financial condition in which later years found him. I have read in some account of his life that he was limited to polenta or macaroni. If he often ate these dishes it was not from necessity, but because he liked them. He used to draw some rare dry-points, pull one or two proofs upon my press, and send them to patrons of his in London upon whom he could always call when in need of funds. I was always glad to be of service to Whistler when he needed money, having been fortunate enough to assist him several times. On one occa- sion I loaned him ten lire, and was quite surprised and pleased to be invited to dine with him that evening. Whistler rarely ever asked the other boys for 11353 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE money; on one occasion in returning a borrowed sum he insisted on giving me twice as much. He was a prodigious worker, and led a very strenuous life, yet he succeeded in getting an immense amount of fun and good living. Age rested very lightly upon him. To my knowledge, no one knows, from his statement, his exact age. He asked me one day : "Bacher, how old do you think I am?" "Well," I said, "you had to be over sixteen to get into West Point; you were there two years; then you went to Paris and stayed five years." "Yes," he said. "Then you went to London in '59 and were there for many years. This is 1880 1:36: PONTE DEL PISTOR, A FAVORITE SPOT OF WHISTLER'S Drawn on the old-fashioned etching ground and etched subsequently as usual. Com- pare with same subject on page 95, produced by Hamerton's " Positive Process." WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE — you must be about forty-six years old, now." "Why, Backer I You make me out an old man." And there he ended, never letting me know whether I was right or wrong. Our life together was intimate and pleasant. Whistler always spoke of me as one of his pupils — even as one of his favorite pupils. Of course it pleased me mightily, but I did not deserve such a title or value it at that time. There were many others who were known by this name, but I never knew the term to be applied except in an endearing way. "He was a sensitive and sensible man with definite ideas about art which he ex- pressed with force"; but as an irritable, [393 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE critical character, I know nothing. His sarcasm was but rarely used, and then only upon those who brought it down upon themselves. He was without fear, and the more daring the exploit the more it appealed to him. If he heard anything uncomplimentary said of himself he went directly to the individual and made him retract it or secretly wish he had not said it. Ill w HISTLER was the last of our group to leave Venice. He went to London, and from there I received several letters from him. I remained in Florence one winter, re- turning to Venice for a stay of a summer and winter. Leaving Venice late in 1883, I re- turned to America by way of London, where I saw Whistler daily. At that time many of his most famous pictures were, under way. In his studio he showed me the picture of Irving as Philip II of Spain. His mother's picture was finished WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE at this time, and I noticed that it was painted on the back of a canvas on the face of which was the portrait of a child. My remark, "Why have you painted your mother on the back of a canvas^" re- ceived simply the reply : "Is n't that a good surface'?" We dined together every night. Among many pleasant experiences, I re- member that he took me to see a remark- able collection of Japanese embroideries. As I knew that his inspiration was from the Japanese, his enjoyment of these things was interesting to remark. After a fortnight with him, I left for Liverpool, with instructions to see a friend of his who lived there, to go to his house, and, regardless of the hour, to ask permission to see certain of Whistler's works. There 14^1 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE I saw six or eight of his most remarkable paintings, many of which are now owned in America. Returning to France after two years' stay at home, I stopped again to see Whistler. On this occasion, at his re- quest, I visited his brother. Dr. Whistler, in order to see a remarkable Japanese lacquered tray representing fish at va- rious depths. This was the only thing saved from the sheriff's sale of his effects in the White House in Tite Street. Just previous to this time the 'Ten o'clock Lecture," — so called because Whistler desired to give people a chance to dine comfortably and pleasantly be- fore coming to hear it, — had been deliv- ered at one of the great universities, and this topic was uppermost in his mind. He C453 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE read the lecture to me, imitating his ap- pearance and manner in delivering it. Putting on his eyeglass, and looking severely at the imaginary audience for some moments, he began : "'Ladies and Gentlemen, it is with great hesitation and much misgiving that I appear before you in the character of the preacher.' " It was delightful to hear him read it, and amusing in the extreme to watch his mimicry. A letter from a mutual friend told me of an incident, not mentioned by Whist- ler, which happened at the real delivery. Jimmie's conversazione on Saturday seems to have been a success till just at the end, between twelve and one, when the men were all leaving, the attendants succeeded in pulling over the long [46] WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE rows of shelves with all the hats and coats, mix- ing up the whole lot and losing all the numbers ! ! There were fifteen hundred invitations issued! ! ! Whistler felt very keenly Mr. Swin- burne's attitude toward his Ten o'Clock. It was ever a disappointment to him, for they were friends. He read to me the letter to Swinburne in which he so clev- erly expressed his feeling. Taking down a copy of it from over the mantelpiece where he kept many of his letters in his Tite Street studio, he read this particular passage : Who are you, deserting your Muse, that you should insult my Goddess with familiarity, and the manner of approach common to the reason- ers in the market place. "Hearken to me," you cry, "and I will point out how this man who has passed his life in her worship, is a tumbler and a clown of the booths— how he who has produced 1:473 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE that which I fain must acknowledge — is a jester in the ring!" He read me more of the letter, showing considerable resentment, walking up and down the room, emphasizing certain pas- sages with great feeling and even bitter- ness. This passage he read slowly and seemed to enjoy it particularly: That he should so stray about blindly in his brother's flower garden and bruise himself. As I was about to leave for Paris, Whistler wrote the following in my note- book: Call on Mr. George Lucas [21] or 41 Rue de I'Arc de Triomphe. Ask him to let me know at once what would be the best hall in Paris for the "10 o'clock." He said: "Present yourself, and give him Whistler's compliments and this letter, which will introduce you. 1:483 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE Tell him about me and the works that you have seen, and what you have heard about the Ten o'Clock.' Tell him Whist- ler is thinking of giving the 'Ten o' Clock' in Paris. He will write me ; but you must write me, also, as soon as you get home, and tell me what he said." I called on Mr. Lucas and he advised a certain hall, the name of which has escaped me. That was the last that I ever heard of it ; but I know that Whist- ler never gave the lecture in Paris. Why, I do not know. I was on the continent for two years, and received several letters from Whist- ler, through one of which I made the acquaintance of Tom R. Way, whose catalogue of Whistler's lithographs is the recognized authority. C49] WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE Returning to London in 1886, I saw Whistler for the last time. I dined with him and Tom Way, and was pleasantly entertained. So ended one of the best acquaintances of my life. IV w HISTLER was a master spirit in "the science of the Beauti- ful," as he defined art. It was the one subject upon which he would allow no jesting. Whatever medium he selected, whether a creation on canvas from memory, a painting from nature in oils, a water-color, — pure or a gouache, — it was fascinating to the full limits of his medium. In pastels, composition and color surprises dominated, remaining in the memory as the down of many-colored butterflies. Lithography was a com- mercially debased art before Whistler C50 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE forced the grease-crayon into a higher standard of beauty than it had ever at- tained before. If mural painting was his task, his tints glowed as if his brush had been dipped in rainbow hues. In his etchings, he spun weblike lines of ex- quisite beauty. If an exhibition hall was to be transformed with drapery, he made it like the brilliancy of the sunshine. Apart from his art, if he laid aside his brush to take up the pen, he was no less competent. His influence on the press was always effective. In courts of law he established a prestige and dignity for the artist and art that cannot be under- valued. Every subject had some problem in nature which he wished to convey on canvas, a copperplate, or by pastel. Prob- NOCTURNAL NOTE— CRAYON DRAWING WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE lems in art he loved to solve. He had many mediums always at hand, and the genius to select the proper one. When he made a journey, even for a day, he took with him materials for every emer- gency. If a copperplate, it was grounded ready to etch upon. His pastels he al- ways carried in his gondola, but rarely his oils when on a sketching expedition. While in Venice he executed very few paintings, and those mostly from memory. Of this class, the "Nocturne in Blue" had St. Mark's beautifully suggested in the background, with flickering gas-jets in the foreground; another was a scene from a cafe near the Royal Gardens. Night after night he watched the gondolas pass, singly and in groups, with lanterns wav- ing in the darkness, without making a WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE stroke with brush or pen. Then he would return to his rooms and paint the scene, or as much as he could remember, going again and again to refresh some particular impression. The canvas was a wonder- ful record. The gondolas could be faintly seen in the darkness, the only light spots being the white-clothed gon- doliers and the flickering lights and re- flections. Another painting made in Venice was from a window of the Casa Jankovitz, representing the Salute and a great deal of sky and water, with the buildings very small. He drew the latter in pen and ink, and worked over them for days, un- til their exquisite details were well de- fined. The clouds which appeared day after day were drawn in pastels, and on 1:563 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE these he labored until their forms were satisfactory. Then he took a big brush, mixed a general tone, and drew it across the buildings, next applying a general tone for the water. The sky was painted a blue which was carefully applied around the forms of the huge, white clouds. The finished picture looked so simple that, unless one had seen the pro- cess, he would have thought it the work of one sitting. One criticism only was expressed: it was much lower in tone than nature. He ground his colors in a special me- dium of his own upon a large surface of plate glass, using a palette-knife to mix tints that looked like tints in a new box of pastels. His object was to produce tones for general purposes. When this 1:573 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE was accomplished, the mixture was put into large, collapsible tubes, in readiness for future wants. Thus Whistler pro- duced "morning pavement," as well as "evening pavement," "morning sky," and "pavement shadow," and many others. When at work with these he produced much with little apparent effort. They were thinner and easier to spread on the canvas than the usual colors bought in the market. Although Whistler did not care for music, he made use of his technical knowledge for themes. "Symphony in Gray and Green," "Variations in Blue and Green," "Nocturne: Opal and Sil- ver," "Arrangement in Black and Brown," are examples of this particular trait. His most ambitious desire was to paint a grand concerto-like picture with 1:58: WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE the title "Full Palette"— "just as in music," he explained, "when they em- ploy all the instruments they make it 'Full Band.' If I can find the right kind of thing I will produce a harmony in color corresponding to Beethoven's har- monies in sound." "Poor pictures should not be linked to suggestive titles," Whistler once said. In speaking of some pictures that were poor in paint and good in titles, he re- marked that the titles were more valuable than the paintings. This was a very apropos remark, for in about the year 1880, the subject-picture was much in vogue, and these ideas had drifted into the art thought of Venice. Every worker in the schools had a supreme subject for oils. It was considered the height of art to select the subject first and then make 1:59: WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE the painting fit it. Such paintings, while having artistic merit, were more often valuable because of some historic interest rather than as art. Whistler was absolutely opposed to these theories and never painted subject- pictures. He preferred nature and wished the artist to be free to impart what he saw there. If the spectator had been fortunate enough to have seen it, or was able to appreciate it, well and good. This, of course, was the exact opposite of the story-picture, but Whistler believed it, lived it, and preached it wherever he went. He often talked over his ideas with me, many of these arguments ap- pearing later in his "Gentle Art of Mak- ing Enemies" under the title of "The Red Rag." 1:603 V w HISTLER never carried an easel during the year he was in Venice, always borrowing one when using oils. When he put down a brush stroke, it was positive, its purpose revealed as other strokes were added. The strokes of a large brush drawn across the canvas were as surpris- ingly frank as those of a small pointed brush; his use of both would often induce a smile because of the simplicity. In painting, each tone was placed surely and sharply with no blending or accidental effects. A succession of acci- t:6i] WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE dental effects, well put together to form a picture was a kind of art Whistler never tolerated. He was very severe in his dis- approval of this kind of work. Tones and colors were so beautifully adjusted that they needed no artificial aid to blend them. His wonderful effects were gener- ally reached by his delicate mixing and frank application. He used a fiat brush that he had cut down on the sides, leav- ing the long hairs in a sharp line in the center. They resembled old, well-used brushes — not the clean, sharp ones of the ordinary artist. In portrait work, he employed very long handled brushes, especially made for his use. His man- agement of these brushes was most re- markable in this delicate work. His method of painting a life-sized 1:623 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE portrait from a model seemed rational but very unusual — in fact, it was quite his own. The background for the sitter was generally a piece of cheese-cloth hung over a Japanese screen with the ends dangling to the floor. He had many exquisite tints from which to select the proper type or color which the sitter re- quired. The canvas, with space large enough to allow a margin of a foot above and below the figure, was placed next to the model. Standing about fifteen or twenty feet from both. Whistler mixed his colors upon a table palette of his own design which he could move from place to place. Whistler's table palette re- sembled an old-fashioned desk with slanting top of polished mahogany. Around the sides on the top were spaces [653 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE for tube colors and mediums. With a brushful of paint, he walked to the can- vas, made a single stroke much as one would with a rapier, returned, compared his subject and work, and mixed another brushful. Stroke after stroke he applied in this way until the picture satisfied him. His mounted canvases were generally taller than the standing, full-grown figure. In his painting, it was surprising to see how much he would accomplish in a short time. He would decide upon a local gen- eral tone, putting it on with five or six big strokes ; any variation of tones would be added in the same way. As a general rule, he never worked over a former brush stroke. If one saw Whistler at work from na- [1663 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE ture, he would be surprised at the ability he displayed in quickly grasping the es- sential facts and placing them upon the canvas. In a given time, he could put down more facts than any other man I ever knew. He was delightful and simple in composition, piquant in point of view. A proper medium for tones and tints, brush, canvas, and subject had to be in accord for him to produce that un- known thing called a masterpiece. In the picture of Whistler's mother, the marvelous detail in the mixing of color and the harmony of tones to those in nature is fascinating. The colors for the embroidery upon the Japanese curtain were mixed separately and applied by single brush strokes. The shadows under the chair are so delicate and diffused that 1:67: WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE they are even more striking than the por- traiture. Whistler tried many experiments with canvas, paints, color tubes of tints with surprising results. Very often some strange work turned out to be an experi- ment. His picture of Sir Henry Irving as Philip II of Spain was painted in oil, but the paint was applied in such a man- ner that it had the appearance of water- colors. At this time, it did not seem to me equal to many of his other efforts. In all probability this picture was the sub- ject of one of his many experiments. One morning Whistler carefully ex- plained to me his theories of value in painting. He told me to look at my model — get the color of the face to the edge — then be very careful to see what is WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE next to that edge in the .background, and apply that accurately. "If you do that all around the figure, your values will be right," said he. "Re- member that the model is your main sub- ject, — what is back of it you must get very accurately." It was a good lesson that I received early in life. The accuracy of his back- grounds in lines and color was always perfect. He was most careful to get in color the exact distance of the model from the background. In criticizing he always looked first to the values. He was a splendid teacher in this application of paint. If persons understood him they were fortunate ; if not, they probably con- sidered the criticism in a bad light. Whistler was a great admirer of Velas- [71] WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE quez and his method in painting. He considered him a great authority, and al- ways looked for his pictures in every gal- lery he entered. He once told me a very funny story of Rubens when ambassador from Holland to the court of Spain. After presenting his credentials to Philip II and showing him his paintings, Philip remarked that he would show him his own artist. He beckoned him to a place where he opened a private door that led into Velasquez's studio. Whistler stopped and said dramatically : "Can't you imagine Rubens's surprise when he saw the work of that great mas- ter?' Whistler had some of his so-called propositions printed and distributed among his friends long before they were 1:723 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE embodied in the "Gentle Art of Making Enemies." He gave me the "Proposi- tions No. 2," printed on a rather large, stiff cardboard. They were often quoted by him to the men when in Venice. His favorites were these : A picture is finished when all trace of the means used to bring about the end has disap- peared. The work of the Master reeks not of the sweat of the brow— suggests no effort, and is finished from its beginning. The Masterpiece should appear as the flower to the painter — perfect in its bud as in its bloom — with no reason to explain its presence — no mission to fulfil. l73l VI OILS were a secondary medium I with Whistler while in Venice, his main object being to com- plete his etchings and to get subjects and results as quickly as possible for his ex- hibition on his return to London. He would load his gondola, which was vir- tually his studio, with materials, and the old gondolier would take him to his various sketching points. It is noticeable in Venice that many subjects were pastel motives, and Whistler was very clever in deciding which these were. He generally selected bits of strange architecture, win- C74: WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE dows, piles, balconies, queer water ef- fects, canal views with boats — very rarely figure subjects — always little ar- tistic views that would not be complete in any other medium. He always car- ried two boxes of pastels, an older one for instant use, filled with little bits of strange, broken colors of which he was very fond, and a newer box with which he did his principal work. He had quan- tities of vari-colored papers, browns, reds, grays, uniform in size. In beginning a pastel he drew his sub- ject crisply and carefully in outline with black crayon upon one of these sheets of tinted paper which fitted the general color of the motive. A few touches with sky-tinted pastels, corresponding to na- ture, produced a remarkable effect, with L7S1 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE touches of reds, grays, and yellows for the buildings here and there. The reflections of the sky and houses upon the water finished the work. At all times he placed the pastels between leaves of silver- coated paper. Even his slightest notes and sketches were treated with the great- est care and respect. He was never in a hurry in his work, always careful, and accomplished much. Some motives were finished at one sit- ting, but more often he made only the crayon outline, charming in its effect, leaving the unfinished sketch for days at its most fascinating point, to be filled in later with the pastels. Many times these outlines needed very little color to com- plete them. At other times, he would take an old pastel which had been cast 1:76: WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE aside, and, by adding some new strokes, bring it into a beautiful creation. Skies with atmospheric effects beside the hard architectural lines were very charming, the reflections in water always delightful. They reminded you of color but not paint. Taken as a whole, the pastels are as complete a collection of pictures of Venice and its life as can be found. Whistler produced about one hundred pastels while in Venice, never had any framed, and very rarely showed them to strangers for fear of the rubbing which this would entail. He sold very few while there — then, only to patrons and well-known families. The majority were carried to London where, they at once be- came popular. Whistler lifted pastels from the com- WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE monplace to a very artistic medium. Be- fore his work, pastels were not looked upon as a factor in art, with the notable exception of the Chocolate Girl and a few charming portraits done by French- men. It was really left to Whistler to inspire future artists to use this medium as a rapid record of facts. Whistler re- tained his interest in pastels, carrying on the work in London where he executed many classical figures. After Horsley, in London, had con- demned the nude in art, Whistler sent to an exhibition three pastels under the titles of "Harmony," "Caprice," and "Note," which the critics had described as charm- ingly chaste, and beneath one of them he wrote "Horsley, honi soit qui mal y pense." Whistler in describing these pastels to me, spoke of W. W. Story, the C783 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE sculptor, whose criticism seemed to please him very much. Story had said, "Whist- ler, they are as charming and complete as a Tanagra statue !" Whistler did no lithographs in Venice. It was after his return to London that he began to work on stone. Few men of importance had taken up this medium because it was considered one of repro- duction, not creation. It remained for him to make it original and creative, and to surprise the world with his work. While in Venice he referred at times to a lithographic caricature of himself by Spy, marked "A Symphony," which had been published in "Vanity Fair" in Janu- ary, 1878. He seemed very fond of it and promised to send me a copy. After leaving Venice I went to Florence, re- ceiving, while there, the promised print. WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE Why it interested him I never could un- derstand. It never seemed especially characteristic; probably it was the pro- cess involved which most appealed to him. Thomas Way, his old friend, influenced him to experiment in this medium of artistic expression — a medium which seemed specially suited to his tempera- ment, being as sympathetic as pencil or charcoal. His first attempts to excite in- terest in this art appeared to meet with but indifferent success. Of recent years lithography had become so purely a com- mercial product and so fallen in reputa- tion as an art medium that time was needed to bring about its successful re- vival, even though hastened by the mas- ter hand of Whistler himself. Perhaps, also, the slight, sketchy char- [82] WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE acter of many of his lithographs were suggestive chiefly of an artist's note-book — priceless to an artist, but too incom- plete to satisfy the larger audience of Whistler admirers. Mr. Way was the owner of a litho- graphic establishment near the Strand in London where he and his son were en- gaged in the business. My first acquain- tance with the Ways was made through Whistler, who wrote me while I was in Paris asking me to look up young Tom Way, who was going there to study painting. He spoke of him affectionately as the son of a very old friend of his; and naturally I assured the writer that it would be my pleasure to serve him. I met the younger Mr. Way, and he was with me one winter studying art in mi WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE the Julian School. This was in 1886, and although during that time he never men- tioned lithography in connection with Whistler, on our way home to London in the latter part of that same year, he showed me three original Whistler litho- graphs of scenes on the Thames. One was a view of an old shipyard with its broken- down buildings and scattered pieces of lumber, a large barge floating down the river with an indication of two figures on its deck. This print was particularly forcible in sky, water, and buildings. Another was a beautiful example of lithography showing buildings and chim- neys vaguely seen on the banks of the river, through the atmospheric effects of which the artist was so fond. This one was done largely with some form of 1:84: WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE lithographic ink applied with a brush, in contrast to the usual method with a crayon. The lights were scratched out. The third was a view looking down the river from one bridge to another. As in the former, the whites on one of the small figures in the foreground were obtained by scratching out the blacks. Delicacy in application and lack of definition made this one particularly charming. On each, the butterfly is seen in a curious form be- cause it is rendered in a new medium. Whistler made many lithographs in London, some on stone, and others on process paper. He was an experimenter in this, as in other fields of art. His ex- treme facility and happy choice of sub- jects in this medium obtained results never before reached. The details of his WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE work may be found in the admirable book by Way, whose father's printing re- tained, no doubt, all the beauties which the artist sought to convey. [883 VII M R. F. SEYMOUR HADEN once said in London to a friend of mine, "Were I to lose any of my collection of etchings, I would rather lose my Rembrandts than my Whistlers." This remark from "an artist of rare endowment and consum- mate practical skill" exemplifies Whist- ler's position in this field of art. He was instinctively an etcher, and worked all his life upon copper, handling the needle as though it were a perfectly natural means of expression. In his youth, while in the employ of WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE the United States government, he ex- ecuted some figures on a chart which have an accuracy of portrayal with the etching- needle that is as surprising as it is defi- nite in small details. The work of his later life is a natural evolution of the characteristics displayed in this early work. In the late '70's, he was commissioned by the Fine Arts Society of London to execute a set of twelve etchings of Venice, and it was there that I became intimately associated with him and his work in etch- ing. My keen interest was due to the fact that I had made many etchings myself. Whistler seemed to be interested in them, especially so when I told him that some were done in one sitting while others were accomplished in eight, using the 1:903 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE acid while I worked. Perhaps another bond of interest was the fact that I had studied his works and enthusiastically searched for the subjects depicted in his etchings on the Thames. London had furnished tall towers and old chimneys, tattered, broken-down houses, long dis- tances, picturesque wharves, and gen- erally etchable subjects. In contrast to this, Venice had a wealth of color and the finished beauty of Byzantine archi- tecture, none of which seemed to me ap- propriate for the needle. Venice had never before been etched, and I was more than anxious to see how he would treat it in lines. There was a simple artisan in Venice whose work upon copper was most beau- tiful. He could hammer out and grind [90 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE down a plate to just the thinness which Whistler desired. When not at work on his plates, he devoted his time to pots, kettles, and the usual things to be found in a Venetian copper shop. He was well trained, delivered his own goods, was reasonable in his prices — hence all of our plates were made by him. In grounding these plates. Whistler always used the old-fashioned ground composed of white wax, bitumen pitch, and resin. He heated the plate with an ordinary alcohol flame, holding the copper in a small hand-vice brought with him from Eng- land. The silk-covered dabber that spreads the ground over the plate was fascinatingly managed by Whistler, who seemed to love every phase of etching. When he came to smoking the plate, he WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE preferred the old wax taper made for that purpose. He did not like to use the large torchlight wick and coal-oil lamp which I had, although it was surer and better. Later I generally grounded his plates be- cause he learned to like my wax better than his own. It was the ground that bears Rembrandt's name, and is com- posed of thirty grains of white wax, fif- teen grains of gum mastic and fifteen grains of asphaltum or amber. The mas- tic and asphaltum were pounded sepa- rately in a mortar; the wax was melted in an earthen pot, and the other ingredients were added little by little, the operator stirring all the time. These grounded plates he would put between the leaves of a book to prevent them from being scratched, and leave l93l WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE them in the bottom of the boat. If he did much walking he took but a single plate wrapped in paper to preserve the etching ground surface, putting it in his pocket with one or two etching-needles that were always punched into a cork to secure their very fine, sharp points; and they were very sharp — every one of them. These etching-needles were ordinary dentist's tools that he had procured be- fore coming to Venice. If a point was not as sharp as he desired, he whetted it on a small oilstone which he always car- ried with him — point forward, pushing forward and backward the length of the small stone until it was of a desired sharpness. The sharpening of an etch- ing-needle is quite a knack. He could keep a point for a long time. Occa- 1:943 PONTE DEL PISTOR, A FAVORITE SPOT OF WHISTLER'S This was produced by the method known as Hamerton's " Positive Process " WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE sionally he took only a clean copper- plate, expecting to do a dry-point. His gondolier, Cavaldoro, a very handsome type of man, was hired by Whistler by the month, and came to know with his Italian intuition just where Whistler most desired to go. If he did not ride, he would follow his mas- ter, carrying the paraphernalia under his arm. All of Whistler's etchings of Ven- ice were drawn right from the subject, and all the figures in these etchings were drawn from life, although some of them did not pose in the same spot in nature as they are represented as posing in the etchings; these figures were always done from life and out of doors, and often near his house. Groups of bead-stringers and lace-makers could be found almost every 1:97: WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE day in any of the "calles" of Venice. Whistler often worked from these groups of women as they worked daily at their vocation. I have known him to begin an etching as early as seven o'clock in the morning, and continue until nine, then put that plate aside, and take up another until twelve — noon — get a bite of lunch, and commence on a third, sometimes an etch- ing or perhaps a pastel — then take a fourth — his final subject for the day, and continue upon it until dusk, the subjects being wholly different. Whistler always had a half dozen under way, more or less complete. I have heard it said that he surrounded his etching expeditions with a great deal of mystery, and was rarely prevailed C983 WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE upon to allow any one to accompany him, doing so, only under the strictest pledge of secrecy. This statement is absolutely incorrect, the reverse being the actual truth. My early etchings of Venice, taken from the window in the Casa Jankovitz, were etched from nature in the acid bath, this method being known to the etching world as "Hamerton's Positive Process."^ I had used this in Germany, but in Venice I found it impracticable because of the many details in the buildings, some of which would be over-bitten at one side ^ In this, a white wax ground is used on the silvered sur- face of the copper plate and the drawing through the wax made while the plate is immersed in the acid. As fast as the metal surface is laid bare by the etching needle a black line is bitten by the acid and progress is therefore immediately apparent. The plate is never retouched after this first drawing and etching. [99] WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE and under-bitten on the other. Whistler seemed to be very little interested in this method, and I soon came to use his method — the old process, drawing the subject leisurely in one to a dozen sit- tings and biting the plate indoors, away from the subject. In etching he would get the essential lines, holding the copperplate in one hand, generally the left, and with the other "he spun web-like lines of exquisite beauty — fascinating to see in the begin- ing as in the end." Where it required accuracy he was minute. He used the needle with the ease of the draughtsman with a pen. He grouped his lines in an easy, playful way that was fascinating: they would often group themselves as tones, a difficult thing to get in an etch- WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE ing. He used the line and dot in all its phases with ease and certainty. Some- times the lines formed a dark shadow of a passage through a house with figures in the darkness so beautifully drawn that they looked far away from the spectator. These shadows which so beautifully de- fined darkness were made only by many lines carefully welded together and made vague as the shadow became faint in the distance or was contrasted with some light object. He made his etched lines feel like air against solids; that is the impression some of his rich doorways of Venice gave me. He was the first to show me how to etch a deep, variegated door with a deeper figure somewhere in that darkness, all contrasted against something in the WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE near opening that was much darker and which made the doorway effective. If he etched a doorway, he played with the lines and allowed them to jumble them- selves into beautiful forms and contrasts, but was always very careful of the gen- eral direction they should run as a whole. In the partial darkness he could put in a hazy figure, the values being adjusted by the biting. He worked for hours on fig- ures, and at times became quite excited over some success attained after much painstaking labor. "Look at this figure I" he excitedly yelled to me one day on the Riva. "See how well he stands!" Whistler never cared to draw an old gondola as Ziem and others had done.- He preferred to depict the beautiful new [102] WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE ones, the lines of which he considered "very swell." He would often remark while drawing one, "Does n't this gon- dola sit in the water like a swan*?" Whistler had no doctrine about lines, although Haden had, and expressed them in his published work on etching. All the theory Whistler hinted at was delicacy of biting, of printing, and of dry-point. Delicacy seemed to him the keynote of everything, carrying more fully than any- thing else his use of the suggestion of ten- derness, neatness, and nicety. I have been asked by several collectors if it were not true that Whistler worked all his Venetian plates through a mirror, thereby avoiding the usual reversing of the subject. My answer was always an emphatic "No." All of Whistler's etch- WITH WHISTLER IN VENICE ings of Venice are reversed, although that fact never offended one's appreciation of them. To see the prints as the subjects are in nature they must be seen through a mirror. A traditional saying among etchers is that "one day's stopping-out is worth five with the needle." Whistler always had his stopping-out varnish with him in a small bottle, applying it with a brush in the most delicate manner. Whistler had brought some from England which was soon exhausted, and, as the proper kind could not be obtained in Venice it became necessary for me to make some for the use of both of us. This was done by mixing asphaltum varnish, a piece of old etching ground, white wax, and ether. While he was working, although he avoided the g S o ►J