Antics WITH OVER SIXTY ORIGINAL ILLUSTRATIONS. I ROYAL ACADEMY ANTICS. the see-SAW antic ( seepage 16). ROYAL ACADEMY ANTICS WITH MORE THAN SIXTY ILLUSTRATION S. BY HARRY FURNISS. CASSELL & COMPANY, Limited: LONDON , PARIS & MELBOURNE. 1890. [all rights reserved.] CONTENTS. PAGE “ The See-Saw Antic” Frontispiece Preliminary Antics i Royal Academy Antics 7 Antic the First 8 Antic the Second. — Body-Snatching 10 The Royal Academy of England 13 The “Instrument Antic” 14 The See-Saw Antic . . . . . . . . 15 Early Trumpeting Antics 17 Jubilee Gorge Antic . . . . . . . .18 First Gold Medal Antic 19 The Deluge Antic 19 House-Moving Antics 21 Presidential Antics . 24 Antics at School 34 Election Antics ......... 40 Associates’ Antics 42 The Venetian Antic 46 Selecting and Hanging Antics 49 viii Contents. P Varnishing Day Antics ....... Antics with Sculpture ... .... Architectural Antics- . The Worst Antic ok All ....... Entertaining Antics. — The Private View .... The Banquet Antics. . . The Soiree Antics ....... . . Press Day Antics The Seven Ages of tHF, Royal Academician, and his Antics Personal ... i 'AGE 52 60 62 67 7i 75 78 82 9i 00 PREFACE. My object in producing this little volume is to point out, as briefly and pleasantly as possible, the necessity of a truly National Academy of Art in England. In doing this it is possible that I may make the Royal Academy appear ridiculous. If I fail, I may bring ridicule upon myself. I ask, before you decide between us, to read this book from cover to cover Harry Furniss. London, May, 1890. — — r4~ My dear Furniss, you are quite right — once I am in the Royal Academy, I'll wake up the fossil- ised old crew, and '“My dear Sir Frederick, take no notice of outside criticism — BEFORE ELECTION. AFTER ELECTION. TO THE YOUNGER MEMBERS OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY, TO WHICH THE ABOVE SKETCH REFERS, I RECOMMEND THIS BOOK; TO ALL OUTSIDERS, WHO, LIKE MYSELF, DISLIKE HUMBUG, I INSCRIBE IT. Royal Academy Antics. $)i*fltminarp Status. HARLES I. founded the first Academy under the name of the M useum M i n e r v ae (1636), which was held at the house of Lord Francis Kynaston, in Covent Garden. This institution was not for the cultivation of paint- ing, sculpture, and architecture alone, but embraced science, mathematics, foreign languages, riding, forti- fication, antiquities, and the science of medals. This truly comprehen- sive Academy shared the fate of the rest of Charles’s projects, good and bad, for some uncivil people made themselves troublesome, and the result was a civil war, in which, as usual, the weakest went to the wall, thence to Whitehall, where an operation was 2 Royal Academy Antics. performed which proved fatal. The next we hear of Academies is that John Evelyn of Wootton formed a very good scheme for such an institution. Knowing the man he was, this seems very probable, but that it never got beyond the scheme stage is equally characteristic of this amiable dreamer. Sir Godfrey Kneller had the next try in 17 1 1, but the affair was only a squabbling shop, and being but weak, was killed one day by a caricature. Hogarth says that “ the President and his adherents found themselves comically represented marching in ridiculous procession round the walls of the room ; the pro- prietors put a padlock on the door, and the subscribers did the same ” — a very convenient door to have accommodation for so many padlocks. Sir James Thornhill was at the head of one of the petty factions who assisted to ring the knell of this last concern, and he forthwith started another Academy in his back garden, and gave away tickets ; but he was too English for Covent Garden, and no one went, so he banged the door, but found a padlock unnecessary, as there was no one to keep out. Mr. Vanderbank, after having been a thorn in the side of this last President, consummated his rebellion by starting a new show in an old meeting-house. But even his attractive foreign name failed to draw subscribers, so he bethought himself of a shocking “artful dodge;” he introduced, and advertised as a special attraction, a female model, “ to make it more inviting,” says Hogarth. A year or two sufficed to see the end of this peep-show, for an unfeeling landlord, not receiving his rent, distrained upon the stove, lamp, scrubbing-brush, and floorcloth, and the model too. In 1734 Hogarth thought that he had a nucleus for a new Academy too good to be wasted, for he possessed what he calls Sir James Thornhill’s “neglected apparatus.” Therefore he started the apparatus, and it worked so well that for thirty years the St. Martin’s Lane meteor was visible in the sky of art. Whilst this luminary was pursuing its steady and unde- viating course, another celestial phenomenon appeared, for the Preliminary Antics. 3 Dilettante Society resolved upon a mighty antic which resulted in a sort of Aurora Borealis. From 1849 to 1853 they were maturing a scheme which culminated in a resolution to buy- some land in Cavendish Square and build there a fane for Art upon the plan of the temple at l’ola, but it ended in a frost. Apparently^ the Society of Arts wanted to keep all the illu- minating business in their own hands, so they snuffed out the new concern. The history of Hogarth’s St. Martin’s Lane institution now becomes the history r of Art in England. In the midst of its career occurred the birth of British Art, the foundling. In 1739 Captain Coram built a hospital for little waifs, and it was here, through an ingenious antic of William Hogarth, that John Bull came across his own neglected artistic baby First Hogarth painted his famous portrait of the founder (which I have here parodied). Then when the first wing of the building JOHN BULL DISCOVERING THE FOUNDLING, BRITISH ART. (After Hogarth.) 1! 2 4 Royal Academy Antics. was finished in 1745.be and eighteen other artists agreed to adorn its walls with paintings, and to meet annually on Nov. 5th to drink claret and punch in honour of the landing of William III. It must appear that from the very first the Foundling Hospital was largely used by a class for whom it was certainly not originally intended, for it appears to have been a fashionable lounge in these early days; consequently the little picture antic took very well, for many of the aristocracy who would never have gone out of their way to see the pictures, saw them here, and it was the success of this first appearance in public which led to the artists determining to hold an annual exhibition of their works elsewhere. In their resolution, however, they did not confine themselves to paintings for the classes proposed to be included were painters, sculptors, architects, engravers, chasers, seal-cutters, and medallists. It is important to note that although these gentlemen resolved to make a charge for admission to their annual show, they did not resolve to pocket the proceeds, but to raise money to distribute among “ those artists whose age, infirmities, or other lawful hindrances prevent them from being any longer can- didates for fame” — a nice, graceful way of putting it, much prettier than the brutal “ Relief of distressed and decayed brethren ” of a rather later date. The first annual exhibition was held in the rooms of the Society of Arts on 2 1st April, 1760, and closed 8th May, and during that time 6,582 sixpenny catalogues were sold — the Society of Arts refused to let them charge for admission. The chief antic which marked this show was that the Society of Arts insisted on exhibiting among the pictures of these accomplished painters the drawings of their art school students, and vastly misled the public by labelling them “ First Prize,” &c., which of course caused the innocent British Public to crowd around these youthful efforts, wondering where the signs of genius were which gave them pre-eminence over these paintings which they would have considered much better. In 1761 the Society again applied for the use of the rooms Preliminary Antics. 5 of the Society of Arts, proposing to stipulate that every one visiting the exhibition must buy a shilling catalogue as a ticket of admission. This the Society of Arts refused to sanction, so the majority of the artists took a room in Spring Gardens, and there was held their second exhibition. The catalogue was em- bellished with a frontispiece and tail-piece from Hogarth’s pencil — and a vignette by Wall ; thirteen thousand copies of this cata- logue were sold, realising £650. The minority who chose to secede from the Society held an exhibition in the rooms of the Society of Arts, and styled themselves “ A free Society of Artists associated for the relief of the distressed and decayed brethren,” &c. &c. It is not clear how the unfortunate “ decayed " could greatly benefit by the efforts of a Society whose sole source of income was the sale of sixpenny catalogues, nor does it appear in what manner the Lying-in Hospital, the Middlesex Hospital, or the Asylum for Female Orphans can be made to come under the head of “ distressed and decayed brethren” — and their first earnings went to these charities in two at least of which they could hardly hope to reach the brethren. This Society for the propagation of decay soon found affairs ripe for a change, and the time came for them to gather in a harvest of shillings ; in 1765 they cut the Society of Arts, and to show they were a “ Free Society,” took a furniture store in Covent Garden for their next show. They now relinquished their attentions to the Female Orphans and others, and turned the concern into a kind of lodge for the benefit chiefly of their own members when sick. Then they were stricken with the Academy itch ; but it was a sup- pressed form of the disease, occurring in the unfortunate year of the epidemic (1768), and they succumbed to an over-dose of West’s Penny Royal, the noted Yankee quack nostrum. Meanwhile the principal body prospered, and in 1765 secured a Royal Charter, and thenceforth was known as the ‘‘Incor- porated Society of Artists of Great Britain.” And then the rows commenced. The indefiniteness of the terms of the charter was probably intentional on the part of the scheming Dirccto. 3, 6 Royal Academy Antics. and allowed all kinds of antics, which bred a chronic turbulence. The cap was put on their folly by their treasurer Dalton, who had lately started a print shop in Pall Mall, and failed, so he thought it his duty to the Society to let them the place for an - academy. He successfully earwigged the King (whose librarian he had been) to make one of his charming declarations about taking Art under his wing (“poor thing!”), and the only thing remaining to do was to erase the words “ Print Warehouse,” and write up “ Royal Academy,” and the thing was done. Next came the question of “ chattels ” — lamps, stove, busts, &c. ; a happy thought was to swoop down on St. Martin’s Lane. To effect this coup, Dalton and Moser vamped up a bogus declara- tion, which deluded the “ Fellows ” with the idea that they would be benefited by handing over their little all, and the “sticks” went over to Pall Mall, and when the fledglings presented themselves at the new nest they had to pay a guinea, and found a lot of strange birds of every profession — or none — on an equal footing with themselves, made free of the place for no earnest purpose, by the simple payment of the guinea fee. War now commenced between “Fellows” and “Directors,” the former being in a large majority, the latter being in power, and meaning to keep so by hook or crook, and refusing to introduce any improvements suggested by the other men — mean fellows. But the “ fellahs ” carried the day, turned out sixteen Directors, and President and Treasurer, appointing Joshua Kirby in place of Francis Dayman as President. This party, headed by Chambers, West, Cotes, and Moser, at once combined to start a new Academy (1768), and petitioned George I II. successfully. In this they declare their intentions limited to the cultivation of painting, sculpture, and architecture, and maintenance of a school of design. They modestly say they expect to be able to pay their way, but ask that in exchange for a little flattery, the King will pay any deficiency, and so keep them afloat on the raft of royal favour and munificence, while the parent and rival societies sink or swim by their own efforts alone. 7 / THE FOUR CONSPIRATORS. ft opal araljfmi) antics. “ A Royal patron on the sly secured, Which from the first its cheek to shame innured.” * The antics of the Royal Academy would fill many volumes. A royal antic founded it. George III., who had no knowledge of Art, thought he would do something to give himself an air of “ culchaw.” He saw nothing in Reynolds, preferred West’s works because they were “smoother,” and Dance’s because they were “cheaper.” And in West the King found a ’cute Yankee, who wheedled him into a mock interest in the artists’ quarrels of the period (which I have outlined in the preceding chapter), and “ piled it on” until he hailed him as “ Patron of the Arts,” and so, fooled “to the top of his bent,” George fell in with West’s self-interested scheme with the gusto of a born conspirator. “‘Mum’s the word,’” said the King; “ we’ll bowl over the Incorporated Society and the Free Society. Work it, West. I’ll have the kudos, you painter chaps the coin. Yankee-doodle can see my people are ruled by snobbery, eh? and ‘Royal’ to any art show will shut up the people’s free and enlightened exhibitions pretty quick.” * Soden’s “ Rap at the R.A. 8 Royal Academy Am tics. West rushed off to tell the news to Chambers, Moser, and Cotes. The four conspirators formed themselves into a committee to draw up a plan of the Royal Academy* and the strictest secrecy was observed, West running to-and-fro between his co-plotters and the King.f antir tiif jfirst. The story of the triumph of trickery is pretty well known ; the little drama at Windsor provides the key to all the after-history of the Royal Academy. The poet has sung of quite another tyranny that “Freedom shrieked when Kosciusko fell” — for Kosciusko read Kirby, and the line will be true of modern British Art. West was at Windsor Castle showing to the King and Queen his picture of “ The Departure of Regulus for Rome,” which was his first commission from royalty, when Joshua Kirby, the President of the Incorporated Society, was an- nounced. The King consulted with his consort in German, and Mr. Kirby was admitted. The painters, it seems, did not know each other, and the King introduced Mr. Kirby to his American protege. Kirby politely joined in the general praise of the picture, and turning to West expressed his hope that it would be shown at the Society’s coming exhibition. The painter, turning to King Catspaw, says that the matter rests with His Majesty. “ Assuredly,” replied royalty ; “ I shall be happy to let the work be shown to the public.” “ Then, Mr. West, you will send it to my exhibition ?” added the President of the Incorporated Society. * See Salt’s “ Life of West,” and Carey’s “ Observations on the Probable Decline or Extinction of British Historical Painting.” t Edwards’ “ Anecdotes of Painters.” Antic the Firs t. 9 “ No,” His Majesty interposed ; “ it must go to my exhibition, to the Royal Academy:' Mr. Kirby was thunderstruck, the battery was unmasked. Astonished and humiliated, the worthy man retired from the A BLACK SPOT IN THE HISTORY OF ENGLISH ART. royal presence, leaving his rival master of the situation. The unmerited blow was a severe one, and whether it hastened his end or not, it is certain that the few remaining years of his life were greatly embittered by the results of his enemy’s unscru- pulous treachery. Concerning Mr. Kirby in this connection, I quote from an excellent article in Once a Week , by Mr. Dutton Cook (one of the most graceful as well as the most straight- forward of modern writers): “ He had risen from quite humble life to a position of some eminence entirely by his own exer- tions. It was admitted that he had attained the position of President of the Incorporated Society without intrigue on his own part, and that both by reason of his professional skill and his private worth, he was entitled to the respect alike of the friends and foes of that institution. The King condescended to 10 Royal Academy Antics. play an ignoble part when he took pains to mortify and distress so honest a gentleman. Rival artists might conspire against a society from which they had seceded, and seek to mine its position ; but His Majesty stooped very low when he lent his royal hand to fire the train. However, he had thrown himself heart and soul into the project for founding a new society — the Royal Academy. So that he reared that edifice he seemed to care little how he sullied his fingers in the process.” I quote this to show that the intrigue had not even the excuse of crush- ing out a discredited or unworthy faction, but that, on the con- trary, it was a contemptible pandering to unblushing and self- interested sycophancy, involving practically the ruin of all that the best spirits in the art world had laboured for since the com- mencement of the century, and the substitution of a very “ house built upon the sand” of unmitigated selfishness and treachery. Hntir tl)f Jfefroirti.— £otop»S>natrbms. PENNY WISE. ing of Somerset House, whether for writing his On the day following the event at Windsor, the nobodies who saw their chance of getting a slice of the Royal Academy cake met at the house of one of them — Wilton, a sculptor (who was given the secretaryship), to nominate the office-bearers. They appointed Chambers, treasurer ; Moser, keeper ; Penny, professor of painting ; and Dr. Hunter, professor of anatomy. Chambers was an architect, and among his pickings was the rebuild- He was a knight of the Swedish order, “ Dissertation on Oriental Gardening ” Bod y- Sadi tching. i i (and the Cultivation of Swedes?), I cannot say. Suffice it to relate that, in spite of Walpole and the poet Mason, Cham- bers, being an original member of the Royal Academy, was sheltered under the royal wing, and long continued to build chambers and churches to delight the world and load his coffers ; the poet Mason perforce yielding him the supremacy of the trowel, whilst Walpole reached the top of the architectural fabric. It was not difficult to assign these minor offices, but the tough piece in the jobbery fire was left, as usual, to the last. The council of crawlers knew very well that, however easy it is to bamboozle a king with judicious flattery, the public must be dealt with more cautiously. They well knew the public would not stand West as President, and astutely selected Mr. Reynolds for the office. Now Reynolds had been kept completely in the dark as to their plots, and, further, he had previously expressed himself very plainly that he would have nothing at all to do with them, as he considered they were endeavouring to “ raise a schism in the arts,” and to do him justice art was more to Reynolds than place or plunder. Mr. Reynolds had therefore to be bought over, so the conspirators sent him a Penny,* but he was not to be had so cheap ; “ No, not for a Sovereign ! ” cried Reynolds, in a voice that nearly stopped the circulation of the copper currency, and poor Penny turned tail, and went back to the schism-shop for change. Things now became serious, so the Council resolved to resort to body-snatching. Hastily planning an effective “wake” when the “mummy” should arrive, West took a coach to Reynolds’s house. The Yankee bounded upstairs, and into the presence of the great Joshua, who looked up, mildly surprised, through his huge spectacles, and was about to utter a remonstrance, when brother Ben broke in — * Edward Penny (“Twopence” ought to have been his name — “ Penny plain, Twopence coloured”). Professor of Painting. The lectures he delivered in this office he promised to publish — in penny numbers presumably — but they nevtr appeared. 12 Royal Academy Antics. “ Didn’t take Penny, eh, stranger ? guess Penny’s a hooter, an’ that’s three parts of a durned fool, eh ? You know my chum, George ? eh ? Not much ? fool ? wall that’s so, you bet, but I reckon that hoss knows when I’m behind him and gets right through. Wall, as I was sayin’, he sez to me, ‘ Don’t be a fool, West, boss the durned show yourself and I’ll make you a knight right ofif,’ but I jest put my hand upon my heart and said some- thing in Latten, I don’t recollect which, but His Most Gracious wunk an said ‘that’s so,’ and ‘ there’s a knighthood a-begging, Reynolds will have it ! ’ ” * The Yankee walked to the window and looked out. “ I reckon, Sir Joshua, you'd be better for a drive, and we can talk as we go along.” The great painter consented, and the Angel of Art gave a little shudder. gernaut of a “ Royal Instrument. I rue, you apologised by saying that you knew it gave additional splendour to your works in vulgar eyes.f Nowadays you would have demanded a baronetcy or peerage for the same reason — pictures are dearer, titles are cheaper. To return to the conspirators. Like a band of “ Moon- SIR JOSHUA'S PRICES RISE. Alas, Mr. Reynolds ! all is vanity! Had you stood out against this conspiracy to mono- polise freedom in art, we might have been to-day advanced in- stead of having an art history whose chief progress has been in a backward direction ! For a mushroom title you gave a head to a worthless body with a fishy corporation, which monopolising monster has, by a snobbish and ignorant following, crushed free art and action under this Jug- * See “Conduct of the Royal Academicians.” f Northcote’s “Memoirs of Sir Joshua Reynolds.” The Royal Academy of England. '3 lighters,” the members of this clique were anxiously awaiting the return of their chief kidnapper ; their theatrical effect was all rehearsed, and they impatient to let it off. After two hours waiting, West drove up to the door with his prey, and was in their midst, accompanied by the bewildered Reynolds. In- stantly the whole company leaped to their feet, crying out — “ President ! President ! ”* Mr. Reynolds seemed much affected at the compliment, but asked for time to consult his friends, Dr. Johnson and Mr. Burke. This greatly disappointed the clique, anxious as boys to have their new toy, the “Royal In- strument,” and flourish it aggressively in the faces of the other boys. Vest and Coats — I mean West and Cotes — certain of the success of this “ try-on ” with Reynolds, expected to wait on the King with the suit complete on the following morning; but Reynolds, Johnson, and Burke took a fortnight + to swallow this “intrigue of the very basest kind.” Surely, had all been fair and honourable, three such men would not have hesitated so long. £l)r ftopal aratormp of ©ngrlanti. I GIVE my authority for all I have stated. It is easily seen that the Royal Academy was founded in what we call an un-English — i.e.y an underhand — way ; but the constitution of the Royal Academy, be it remarked, was the handiwork of foreigners. Its very foundation is un-English, since, of its four originators, only one was an Englishman, thus : — West (American), Chambers (Swedish), Moser (Swiss), Cotes (English). Small wonder then that nearly a third of the original members were foreigners, whilst many of the best painters of the day were not members, as they had the hardihood to continue members of reputable societies, and as such could not be received into this truly national institution. * Sandby’s “ History of the Royal Academy.” t Northcote. '4 Royal Academy Antics. Clir “ {nstntmrnt 3ntir.” We have seen how this interesting contrivance was delayed in its completion by the hesitation and want of sympathy of Mr. Reynolds. It may be instructive to take a glance at the document which was, and is, the sole charter of our Royal Academy. When the four conspirators made their appeal to George III., His Majesty asked them to draw up their plans in writing. The four plotter birds retired to their rookery to consult, and when they had cawed the matter over, up got the . Yankee bird and croaked — “ Who’ll write the Instrument?” “ I,” said the Swede ; And they all cried “ Agreed ! You write the Instrument.” So the Scandinavian architect drew out a hurried plan, got “ as many artists as the shortness of time would allow ” * to sign it, and took it to the King, who wrote below, in questionable English, “ I approve of this plan ; let it be put in execution,” and appended the royal signature. Such being the origin of the document constituting “ The Royal Academy of Arts in London,” — of which the King of England declared himself “ patron, protector, and supporter,” we cannot marvel to find that it provides that the members shall not be “members of any other society of artists;” that while it expressly excludes engravers ( English engravers it ought to have specified) it names as a member Bartolozzi, who it is true was not an English engraver, and excludes Strange, Sharpe, and Woollett who were ; f that it nominates a Swiss goldchaser (Moser), a coach painter (John Baker), a sign painter (Samuel Wale), two women, both Swiss (the Misses Moser and Kaufifmann), and a rabble of foreigners of all nations whose * Dutton Cook. f “ Since Sir Robert Strange, and Woollett, and Sharpe were denied admission to the Academy it is quite certain that the art has suffered.” — Pye. The See-Saw Antic. i5 names are happily forgotten and need not be recorded here. One touch of humour alone enlivens this otherwise dull document ; when we consider the eminently lofty morality displayed by the projectors of the concern, it is amusing to find that they considered it necessary to stipulate that members must be “ of high moral character.” Article VIII. of this Instrument provides that “The King is graciously pleased to pay all deficiencies and he actually did — during the first eleven years of the Academy — pay about £5,000 to their funds. Before quitting this subject, I may append the fact that when George IV., seeing that this Instrument was an un- satisfactory foundation for a national institution, desired to incorporate the Royal Academy by charter, the body cleverly, but not ingenuously, declined ; for they preferred to dispose of their increasing wealth in their own way, without acknowledging any responsibility or rendering any account to the nation. It would be wearisome to follow the Royal Academy through the first hundred years of its existence ; its antics have been many and various, and their history would require volumes to chronicle. My readers who have patiently followed me thus far may be consoled by the assurance that the briefest survey is all which I propose to take of the period from the foundation of the R.A. up to our own times. PERHAPS the most extraordinary fact in connection with this remarkable institution is the success with which its executive has contrived to maintain it in its conveniently anomalous position. I have already shown that the Academy positively declined a Royal Charter when it was desired to allow itself to become properly incorporated ; this would not have suited the 1 6 Royal Academy Antics. book of those most concerned at all, for their game was to hold fast to all the advantages they enjoyed as a public institu- tion, whilst refusing to accept responsibility of any kind on the ground of being a private society. This is how the see-saw works : — * Says the Public to the President, “ Pray, good sir, this is an excellent exhibition, and I am delighted to see so many silver shillings passing across your counters ; pray where may I find the proceedings of your ‘ Royal ’ institution, and the records of your administration of the vast funds which evidently pass through your hands?” “ Oh, my dear Public,” says the President, gently inclining the see-saw so that the “No Responsibility” side ascends, “ these things are not for us; we are a private concern, and a very paying concern, too, between you and me ; good thing ! no op- position ! But we don’t show our balance sheets ; why should we? You wouldn’t if you were a private concern, would you ? Of course not.” “ Oh, thank you, sir, certainly, quite right. I was evidently under a misapprehension.” Next there comes an officious person who asks a question of Parliament. “ Certain rooms in a public building are at present occupied by a society other than a government institution. I desire to be informed whether this Society pays any rent to the Exchequer, and if not, why not ? ” After a due and proper delay for the re-adjustment of the see-saw, comes the reply, “ The Council of the Royal Academy has satisfied the powers that be, that that institution is, strictly speaking, a public in- stitution rendering great public service to the nation, and as such enjoys certain inalienable privileges, and holds its charter directly from the Crown.” And the officious person subsides. Could the Royal Academy be regarded purely as a private institution, then all objection to its proceedings would be deprived of its pertinence, for then might a dozen enterprising persons start a dozen Royal Academies, and we should in a * See Frontispiece. Early Trumpeting Antics. <7 short time have five hundred capable painters rejoicing in the sufifix “ R.A.,” and the day of the National Academy would he nigh. But, unfortunately for Art, George III. lived and reigned a very long time ; and it is characteristic of this monarch that whilst he made the most unconditional promises that all worthy artistic societies should receive equal patronage from him, he had no intention whatever of keeping his word, and the “ show ” run by his favourite West received not only his almost exclusive attention, but also his assistance in hard cash when the parent and rival society was sinking neglected into oblivion. George III. thus saw the Royal Academy so firmly established through his favour and help that its monopoly has never since been seriously threatened. 0ntlp Otnnprtmg; Entire!. I CANNOT pass by the proceedings which marked the opening of the first exhibition of the Royal Academy, so very symbolic are they of the modest attitude assumed- by the body throughout its career. On April 26th, 1769, a banquet was held at the St. Alban’s Tavern. At this function there were recited odes written for the occasion, in which the singular absence of anything like “ blow,” or “ blatherskite,” or high-pitched, far-fetched blarney is so remarkable, that I venture to offer a sample — most inadequate — as a model of what these “ tall ” compositions should be. “ With rapture the prophetic Muse Her country’s opening glory views ; Already sees with wondering eyes Our Titians and our Guidos rise : Sees new Palladios grace th’ historic page, And Biitish Raphaels charm a future age. Meantime, ye sons of Art, your offspring bring To grace your patron and your king. C i8 Royal Academy Antics. Hid painting’s magic pencil trace The features of his darling race. Bid some majestic structure rise to view Worthy him and worthy you.” (This is only the merest fraction of this one ode ; it is too long to be given in ex ten so.) Another ode ran through many stanzas in the same strain as this : — “ ’Tis yours, O well selected band. To watch where infant genius blows, To rear the flower with fostering hand And every latent sweet disclose, That arts unrivalled long may reign Where George protects the polished train.” This is not a bad beginning. Speaking of banquets nerves the wings of my historic muse to a flight of fifty years, and brings up the Jubilee 0orijr 3ntir. In i 8 i 8 the R.A.’s were much exercised to find a fitting way of celebrating the glorious occasion of their Jubilee. All were agreed that it must be commemorated by some “enduring memorial.” Some suggested to produce an elaborate and magnificent history of the institution, but modesty prevailed, and they didn’t. Others were in favour of striking a medal, but the idea fell flat. Then a brilliant idea struck someone — “A big blow-out ! ” The very thing ! And thus was erected the “ enduring memorial ” of artistic jubilation. The odes, if any, on this occasion were not made so much of. The R.A. had long since learned that “good wine needs no bush,” and that even bad wine is more elevating than middling verse ; so they ate and they drank, while the “ prophetic Muse,” with Firs t Gold Medal Antic. 19 “ wondering eyes,” looked down upon her “ Titians and her Guidos,” her “Raphaels,” and “new Palladios,” and murmured, “ Worthy HIM AND worthy YOU ! ” till the President’s wheel- barrow was announced. Speaking of medals, too, reminds me of the Jftrst £olti iHrtial 3»tir. THERE was an indolent, pretentious young man who studied at the Academy schools, and consequently found out very soon that interest and favour was much more useful there than ability or industry. He seems to have been well known to Dr. Johnson, whose kindness was often more conspicuous than his discretion when he was solicited to use his influence in favour of any young duffer such as our friend the student, whose appropriate name was Lowe. Mr. Lowe carefully curried favour in high places, and as a result he gained the first gold medal. Now the unfortunate title of the competition subject was “Time discovering Truth.” This subject must have been prompted by the “ prophetic Muse,” for Time did discover the truth in this case, and it was soon generally known that the gold medal had been awarded for the worst work to the student who had most indolence, incapacity, and personal interest among the judges ; and so will Time discover the truth in every piece of jobbery the Academy is guilty of. Let them give the same subject for the next gold medal competition, and award the medal to the student who treats it as suggested on next page. Cl)c Qrlucjr 3nttr. This same student was the hero also of another low proceeding on the part of the R.A., which I may here relate, though I shall have occasion to refer to it again. In 1783 the Council rejected c 2 20 Royal Academy Antics. a picture of the Deluge. As soon as their determination was known, the painter — no other than our Mr. Lowe — got Dr. Johnson to write to Sir Joshua Reynolds and Sir James Barry, “ to procure the revocation of this incapacitating edict ” — which is Johnsonese for “ Shut your eyes, and job it in, to oblige yours truly” — and the Council obligingly revoked, and “The Deluge” had a room to itself, where it excited the astonishment of all who saw it, for it was trash, pure and simple — a fitting monu- ment to jobbery. (Detail to be filled in by the student after he has read this volume.) 21 l)otis!r-'iBobincj: 3ntirs. I\ Ci 7 A L A C A 0 Z HI ¥ nr. /\ |JT$ PALLjmL N one matter the spirit of advance has cer- tainly had a good time with the Royal Academy; that is, in the matter of housing. I have already stated that their first home was in Pall Mall, at the unsuccessful print shop. Here the first eleven exhibitions were held, namely 1769 to 1779 inclusive. Rooms in Somerset House had been set aside for the use of the Academy schools since 1771, and in 1780 the exhibitions commenced to be held there and continued until 1836. About the latter year there was a general feeling that the Royal Aca- demy had grown out of the lodging pro- vided for it by the nation, and in order to give better opportunity for the display of all the now very large amount of really good work sent in a fine suite of rooms was given to them in the National Gallery in Trafalgar Square. 22 Royal Academy Antics. This year of 1836 should have been a great year for the Royal Academy, but it is difficult to speak with patience of the Council’s unfortunate success in defending the institution against all suggestions of reform, and in disastrously defeating the party that strove for the national good. A Royal Commission was held to inquire into the working of the Royal Academy, and to hear suggestions for its reformation ; but the reform party were feebly championed, and the conservative crew tacked and tacked about with each change of the wind, till the Commis- sioners seem to have been deluded into the idea that if the R.A. was not perfect, still reform was proceeding so rapidly within its walls that no aid from them was required. The whole thing consequently ended in a few futile suggestions being offered, and things being left practically exactly as they were before. For twenty-seven years after their removal to Trafalgar Square the Academy was free from any serious disturbance, although a great deal of dissatisfaction was felt by many an able artist who saw that, with the advantages the institution possessed, much more ought to be done for Art. In 1863, however, this feeling came to a head, and another Royal Commission was the result. The objectors were now stronger, and it was pretty clearly shown that the Royal Academy was acting as a close corpor- ation whose efforts were first and last all for the benefit and aggrandisement of its few members, and that the general interests of the nation’s art were entirely subservient to the commercial fortunes of these members ; and yet, mirabile dictu ! this Commission achieved as little as the former one. It is true the Academy felt the pressure, and found it wise to box the compass even more vigorously than before ; the great cry being “ We cannot do justice to all unless we have more room in which to exhibit.” The suggestion being advanced to give to the R.A. the mansion known as Burlington House, the Council cautiously accepted the offer, promising that if they were granted that site H o us/:- Mo visa A x r/cs. \ 23 they would provide space for three times as many pictures as they had been able to show in Trafalgar Square, also that in future no picture should be accepted but not hung, and that even - work hung should be fairly visible. How they made good this promise was well shown by Mr. T. J. Gullick, in his pamphlet, “ The Royal Academy, the ‘Outsiders,’ and the Press,” written in 1869 — one year after the removal of the R.A. to their new palace in Piccadilly. After a careful examination of the catalogues he concludes, “There is (excluding the exceptional exhibition of Mr. Goodall’s sketches) an increase in the number of oil paintings of only six in all ! But of the whole number of oil paintings in the present exhibition not less than 167 are by Academicians and Associates — 42 more than last year — and 70 by foreign artists — 60 more than last year” — consequently “there is a positive re- duction of one hundred this year in the number of works by native outsiders.” Satire and invective falls feeble and unavailing beside the withering condemnation of these simple, straightforward facts. Well might struggling talent have risen at this juncture and tlung the specious promises of the Council in their faces, with Byron’s scathing words (used in a less honourable quarrel) — “ This was the pledge you made to me, And here’s exactly what it’s worth.” And better still could they have carried the parallel further, and written the words (as the poet did) “on the back of the deed of separation.” But the R.A., like the cat of proverb, has nine lives, and the dissatisfaction fell as harmless and as useless as the rain upon the sound roof of their costly temple in Piccadilly. 24 Royal Academy Antics. $h*f£ft)fntial Hnlirs. The first, and probably the best, President the Academy ever had — Sir Joshua Rey- nolds — was not above antics of the very first water. In 1790 Messrs. — or, rather, Signor and Monsieur — Bon- omi and Fuseli were candi- dates for a vacancy in the ranks of the Royal Academi- cians. Now, there never was a doubt that Fuseli was vastly more worthy of the honour than his rival. This Reynolds admitted ; but he had reasons for favouring the less worthy competitor, and he strove his hardest to force Bonomi’s election. For all the President’s efforts, I-'useli was elected by a majority of two to one, whereon Reynolds resigned the Presidency and renounced all connection with the Royal Academy. The Royal Academy, however, sent a deputation to the great man, and succeeded in reconciling him, so that he con- tinued in office till his death, two years later. Another incident — though its chief actor was never President — may show that more than one celebrated man was ready in the early days to take a trumpery excuse for quitting the ranks of the Academicians. Thomas Gainsborough in 1784 sent a group of princesses, full length ; and with the picture a letter P RESIDENTIAL ANTICS. 25 demanding in peremptory terms that it should be hung on the line ; the penalty of disobedience being that his mightiness would never again exhibit at the Academy — “and this I swear by God.” And he did not. He died in 1788. Benjamin West was the second President, and he began his antics at a very early age. His first effort in art was made at the age of seven, when he was set to rock the cradle while his 26 Royal Academy Antics. little sister slept ; and while so engaged, he was accidentally struck by her smile, whereon he revengefully hit it off with a stick dipped in red and black ink. And the Chief of the Cherokee Indians popped his head in. “What, no paint?” And he gave him a pinch of yellow ochre out of his silver snuff-box, and the infant plucked a bushel of camel’s hair from the cat’s tail, and became President of the Royal Academy. West and Reynolds each were afflicted by artistic jealousies, but the weapons they used in the fight were very different, and characteristic of the two men. Reynolds never hid his enmity for an instant towards those few whom he thought possible rivals; and his determined antagonism to Romney was the cause of the latter never exhibiting at the Royal Academy. So vio- lent was his dislike to his distinguished confrere , that, trumpery as it may’ seem, Reynolds would never even mention Romney by name, referring to him only as “the man in Cavendish Square.” West’s behaviour, on the other hand, savours much more of the man of the world, and justly met with severe blame. In 1793 — the year following his election — his friend, the Rev. Bromley’ brought out, under West’s ey'e, a “ History’ of the Fine Arts,” in which West was held up to praise to the detriment of Sir Joshua Reynolds (deceased) and P'useli (then living), the latter being opposed to the President. This publication raised PresidePtia L A NT ICS. 27 a storm of indignation, and the second volume never saw day- light. During the life of George III. West kept in high favour with the King, and received many commissions at extravagant prices. When, in i8or, the King was “afflicted,” art matters in the royal household fell into the hands of Wyatt, the royal architect. This gentleman was not a fool, and had the courage of his opinions, so he ordered West to stop his supply of daubs. George, however, got well, and West complained to him ; whereon the King said, “Go on, West; I’ll look after you!” which he did, to the tunc of .£1,000 a-year. West received, on the whole, over £34,000 from George III., for work which would not now fetch 34,000 shillings. 28 Royal Academy A.xt/cs. There seems some fitness in the fact that the deaths of both painter and patron occurred within three months of each other. West’s vanity is very funnily illustrated by the following story : — He was ori a visit to Paris, and certainly seems to have been very well received, concerning which he wrote, “Wherever I went men looked at me. ... I was one day at the Louvre, all eyes were upon me ; and I could not help observing to Charles Fox, who happened to be walking with me, how strong was the love of art and admiration of its professors in France.’’ On his return from P'rance, West found himself very un- popular, and sent in his resignation to the Council couched in such terms as to prove conclusively that the Council would be doing a very bad thing if they accepted it ; but the Council took him at his word, and for some months his old enemy Wyatt occupied the Presidential chair, till in the following year (1804) he was reinstated. Previous to this, however, West had been guilty of an antic which is unaccountable. Having exhibited his picture, “ Hagar and Ishmael,” in 1776, he sent it in again in 1803, but the Council happened to “schmell” a rat, and the picture had to be withdrawn. But this was not effected without some very severe remarks appearing in the newspapers. West was succeeded in the Presidential Chair by Sir Thomas Lawrence — the high priest of the “ curtain and column ” school in portraiture. In his young days Lawrence was remarkable for his gift of pleasing, and this was his best friend through life. He was handsome and undoubtedly clever, and coming to London at an early age he was so successful in attracting notice in high places, that at the age of twenty-one the King insisted on the Academy electing him an Associate against their rules, which lay down the minimum age as twenty-four. His first antic was to exhibit ten portraits in his first year (1792) ; and al- though he did not get up to this record again, he usually showed eight portraits every year during the thirty-eight years he was ex- hibiting at the Royal Academy. Flattery was Lawrence’s stock- in-trade, for though he was an excellent painter he would certainly never have been so extraordinarily popular and fashionable had Presidential Antics. 29 he not persistently flattered his sitters in a way that would not be tolerated now. The poet Campbell very happily says of his portraits that the sitters “ Seem to have got into a drawing-room in the mansions of the blessed, and to be looking at themselves in the mirrors.” Opie equally truly says that “ He made cox- combs of his sitters, and allowed them to make a coxcomb of him.” The latter would be diffi- cult, for we hear that at the age of seventeen he pleased himself so well that he offered to stake his reputation against any painter living (a safe stake). There is, unfortunately, little doubt that he was an inveterate flirt and lady- killer ; his portraits of Mrs. Sid- dons were doubtless valuable, but her daughter’s honour was too high a price to pay for them ; and when he undertook to paint the portrait of the Princess of Wales, it seems a pity that his zeal in the conscientious study of his royal model should have carried him so far into the privacy of the lady’s apartments as to make the subject of a “ Delicate Investigation,” and a world-wide scandal. The world was also a loser through the great man's levities for he could not paint men, though his portraits of women were mostly admir- able, and for seven years after this scandal his lady sitters 30 Royal Academy Antics. fell off, so that he painted scarcely any but male portraits ; be- sides, the Regent naturally did not favour him so highly as did his merry spouse. Still, royal favour returned to him when the Regent became George IV., and that monarch had succumbed to the arch flatterer so far as to personally place a gold chain and medal around his neck on his election to the Presidency. Was this the reward for conformance to the rule already quoted which insists on men “of high moral character ? ”* Lawrence, like all young men with- out a spark of imagination, thought his forte was in huge and heroic imagi- native works. In his early Academy days he tried “Satan Calling upon his Legions,” which was a fiasco. “ Pasquin ” wickedly likened Belial to “a mad sugar-baker dancing naked in the conflagration of his own treacle.” Fuseli accused Lawrence of stealing the idea from him, to which the portrait-painter’s ready, but not too convincing, retort was that he certainly had taken Fuseli as his model, but had copied his person, not his work. “ Prospero Raising the Wind” was another ill-fated and funnily-named effort in the ridiculous sublime ; some wag said it was designed to decorate * Geo. H. Harlowe was a pupil of Lawrence’s, but was refused admission to the Academy schools as a student, and later on refused as an Asso- ciate. Sandby says, “ Foreign academies admitted him to their honours, but he could not with pro- priety have taken a place among the members of our Royal Academy, who are required by the Instrument to be men of fair moral character as SAINT LAWRENCE. . .... „ _ . , ■ , , well as artists of distinction. Design for a stained glass win- _ , r . . • ; „ ,, ,, dow to be placed in the Chapel So the R. A. is a mo, al Palladium as well as a of the Royal Academy. Temple of Art ! PjtESfDEN T1A L A N TICS. 31 the Stock Exchange. Lawrence thought “ Satan ” his best work, and at one time wrote to Mrs. Boucherctte, “ I am very glad you like my ‘ Hamlet,’ which, except my ‘ Satan,’ I think my best work.” Anyhow, it seems to have bewitched the R.A., and Satan has “got them in his eye” to this day, for he hangs in their chamber of horrors. Lawrence did one bad thing for portrait painters ; he taught them the vice of introducing two horizons in one picture. It was not he, but one of his eminent disciples, who, having painted a portrait of the Duke of Devonshire showing Chats- worth in the distance, was told that the drawing was all false and impossible, and profoundly responded — “ Yes, but you know Chatsworth is on a devil of a hill.” Lawrence was so fond of royal patronage that when he re- ceived the freedom of his native city (Bristol), he could only call it “ the very highest honour that could have rewarded my pro- fessional labours — the protection of Majesty excepted.” The “protection” of George IV. the highest — “ the very highest” — honour! Strange and significant that this sycophant, as well as his predecessor, died within a few months of his royal master (1830). Lawrence was always a spendthrift and always in debt ; but it is only fair to record that he seems to have been ever ready to give wherever his aid was asked. It is further due to his memory to quote his last words to the Royal Academy — and had he lived for this alone the R.A. should thank him. “ I am now,” said he, “advanced in life, and the time of decay is coming ; but come when it will, I hope to have the good sense not to prolong the contest for fame with younger, and perhaps abler, men. No self-love shall prevent me from retiring, and that cheerfully, to privacy ; and I consider that I shall but do an act of justice to others, as well as mercy to myself.” These words should be writ large all over the walls of the Royal Academy. Death prevented the resolution being put to the test, for within a very short time the President was no more. 32 Royal Academy A a tics. HE next President seems to have been selected for his negative qualities, for Sir Martin Archer Shee was neither a painter of much merit, nor a man of money, nor, like his predecessor, a society masher. Still, he wrote a tragedy, which the Lord Chamberlain (or his representative of those days) refused to license, certain “ Rhymes on Art,” which the public refused to read, and a novel not worth damning ; and moreover Byron mentioned him in “ English Bards and Scotch Reviewers,” and surely these were SHEE— WHO MUST BE OBEYED. qualifications enough for the Pre- sident of the Royal Academy of England ! Shee came from the Emerald Isle to London full of hope, and thought to take the place by storm. He did not get his first pictures accepted by the R.A. He too soon learned the lesson that it is not by merit that a young man gets into the R.A., so he went to Burke, who went to Reynolds, and the next year (1791) his pictures were hung. Once again incapacity launched out into big canvases and fancy subjects ; he also tried our old friend Prospcro, but failed to “raise the wind.” “Jephtha’s Daughter” also helped him to waste his time, and then he sunk into weak portrait painting and poverty, and so was elected to the Presidency and ^300 a year (1830), and died in 1850, at the age of eighty-one. Sir Charles Lock Eastlake was President from 1850 to 1865. He can scarcely be credited with any antics worth the name ; he also was more of a writer than a painter, but he abjured the poetic Muse, and chiefly devoted himself to the exposition of the dry theory and history of art. As far as painting is concerned, he started, like all the rest, on subjects. “Jairus’ Daughter” was P RESIDENTIAL ANTICS. 33 A PAPER PRESIDENT. his first love; then he went to the land of macaroni and gave the world some middling landscapes. Later he took to historical and Scriptural subjects, which were neither many nor ex- cellent. Eastlakc held many official positions — such as Secretary to the Commis- sion for Decorating the Houses of Parliament, Li- brarian to the R.A., Keeper of the National Gallery, incurring in the latter some very severe censure. After his election as President, he appears to have been chiefly employed as buyer for the National Gallery. In one way this was a model President; he not only did not occupy his full space in the Academy, but he ceased to exhibit at all in 1855. On Eastlake’s death in 1865, Sir Edwin Landseer was elected President, but declined the office, after really being President for nine days. In fact, the position was unpopular apparently, for Maclise also refused the job, and P'rancis Grant was pressed into the service. P'rorn 1866 to 1878 the President seems to have got on very well. He was another respectable duffer ; was d. unity AND .mpudence. mca nt for the Bar, but n 34 Royal Academy Antics. took to portrait painting, and became fashionable for want of a better. Sir Francis Grant dying, he was succeeded (1878) by Frederick Leighton, the present President. Sir PYedcrick Leighton is ac- knowledged by all to be a model President of the Royal Academy. But, as Batty Todd says in The Middleman , “P'igu re- heads ain’t much use in the navigation of the ship,” and during the twelve years he has been its figure-head the Royal Academy ship has hardly deviated from the old, old course. Sir Frederick is handsome, learned, and courteous ; he requires to do one thing to become strong, and that is But I have no wish to be per- sonal. Indeed, I desire to state most emphatically that much as I object to the Royal Academy ship as a whole, I have always found the crew — when out of it — the best of fellows, and among them I the present figure-head. have some old and valued friends. Antics at ^rbool. I VENTURE to say we all regret we were not more attentive at school, but this is after we forget how dry school was. Fortu- nately common sense has reached us from Germany, and our little ones are taught in the Kindergarten in a way to attract and amuse them. They swallow the pill of knowledge with the Antics at School. 35 silver on, in place of being dosed with dry powder which revolts them. Now why do we not make the introduction of Art more attractive to the boy? He is introduced to the School of Art as he is to the dentist, with this exception, the knowledge that he is about to draw with a stump, instead of having one drawn. A cold, meaningless scroll is first placed in front of him, before which he sits and yawns, and tries to copy. Then a cone is given to him, a ball, a triangle, anything, in fact, that is uninteresting, and he is kept copying them until he is tired. Next a head, a hand, or a foot is his fare, a sort of mutilated corpse in plaster of Paris, and about as cheering, to be stippled, crosshatched, and worked up for months. By chat time he sees the Art student’s life is not a happy one ; he finds relief in throwing lumps of bread at the heads of other students, and a little extra excitement when he hits his professor by mistake. Why not abolish this cold initiation, begin by giving the boy something to interest him, not to depress him ? We might then have more original artists. There is no doubt that the chrysalis state of the artist is longer than that of other professions. Mr. Frith, in his interesting autobiography lately published, remarks : — “ Artists are slow to develop, showing clearly the severe technique that only patient years of study can overcome. The usual work of the boy artist is little or no criterion to their future chances. Consider the quality of mind and body requisite for a successful artistic career — long and severe study from antique statues from five to eight hours every day ; then many months’ hard work from the life, with attendance at lectures, study of perspective, anatomy, etc. ; general reading to be attended to also — all this before painting is attempted, and when attempted the student may find he has no eye for colour ; I do not mean colour-blind, which is, of course, fatal, but that he is not appreciative of all the subtle tints and tones of flesh ; or what is more fearful still, he may find that he has all the D 2 36 Royal Academy Antics. language of Art at his fingers’ ends, and that he has nothing to )» say. Nothing to say ! This simply means that the student has no originality , no ideas, no invention. Why, my principal object in parodying the Royal Academy lately, and in leaving my easel for the platform now, is to point out the conventionality, the poverty of invention, characteristic of our Art, and encouraged by our system of Art training. I quite agree with Mr. Seymour I laden, whose remark on this point is as sharp as his etching needle. He says : — “ 1 attach no value to technical education, or what tradition teaches. “Too minute a rendering in matters of Art is bad ; such a process means an extension of the work over long passages of time, which must tend to weaken the primary ideas and concep- tions of the artist. The great masters knew this and worked rapidly, knowing full well that if the sacred fire once languished it could not be re-illumined.’’ I will not weary you by recording the many alleged defects of the Academy schools.* One illustration will suffice to show you how absurd the system is. The members of the Academy visit the school paid to teach * Here are a few interesting mems. about the schooling of some artists : — Martin was a pupil of Musso. Flaxman studied with his father, and at the Duke of Richmond’s Gallery. He studied, indeed, a short time at the Academy, where he was refused the gold medal. Chantrey learned carving at Sheffield. Gib- son was a ship carver at Liverpool. When Sir Thomas Lawrence became a proba- tioner for admission to the schools of the Academy his claims were not allowed. The Academy taught, not Bonnington. No ; nor Danby, nor Stanfield. Dr. Munro directed the taste of Turner. — See New Monthly Magazine, May, 1833. “ It is sufficient to state that the Royal Academy was intepded for the encourage- ment of historical paintings, that it is filled with landscapes and portraits ; that it was intended to incorporate and cheer on all distinguished students, that it has excluded and persecuted many of the greatest we possess; and that at this moment, sixty-fice years after its establishment, our greatest living artists, with scarcely any exception, have not been educated at an Academy intended, of course, to educate genius even more than to support it afterwards.” — From “ England and the English,” Lord Lytton. Antics at School. 37 the young idea how to paint. Each artist enforces his own particular method and theory which upsets those of all the others, and all he does is to leave the student hopelessly bewildered. Fancy being taught to shave by different professors of the art ! One might tell you to shave up, another to shave down, another with a circular stroke, a fourth with a continuous long sweep from ear to ear. Why, in the end you would cut your throat. And is not this patchwork Art-teaching suicidal to a student’s progress ? They manage these things better in France. There a student chooses his master, and works under his colours, and in his style. He has the one master’s method to study, and pulling his stroke his tuition travels faster, and when he paddles his own canoe he is not worried by conflicting currents of thought as to how to work. These were my words, January, 1888, and although Mr. F'rith did not acknowledge the fact, there can be little doubt that the following passage in his “ Further Reminiscences,” page 335, referred to my remarks : — “ I fear it is impossible in England to adopt the French system of the large atelier presided over by one or two distinguished artists. Instead of that method of teaching by which the student is directed by one man, and always on the same principles, we have in our Royal Academy teachers (Academicians and Associates) succeeding each other every month ; the effect being, in my opinion, confusion and bewilderment to the student. When this has been discussed amongst us, it has been urged that the clever student will listen to such varying advice and derive benefit from the differences in it; while the stupid student who is bewildered will never make an artist at all. But we have to consider results, and there can be no doubt that the French student draws better, and is more generally accomplished in his art, than the English one ; and it behoves us to find out the reason and mend our method.” Royal Academy Antics. .38 His Majesty George III. being pleased to -establish A Soctety for -the purpose of benefiting a few privileged Ojl Painters, Sculptors, and Architects in 1768, under the Name and Title of THE ROYAL ACADEMY OF “CERTAIN” ARTS, and His Majesty having hurriedly entrusted the sole management and direction of the Art of England to a CLIQUE -composed of forty Academicians, with power to do whatever they please, ffille tfirrrforr. The President and Members of the said Clique, by virtue of our antiquated power, and in consideration of your being a very indifferent Engraver, copying our pictures, do. by our unique power, ignore all the talents in WATER-COLOUR PAINTING and BLACK-AND- WHITE, and, without a blush, constitute and appoint you, : Gentleman, To be one of the Associates of the Royal Academy, Hereby granting you all the privileges thereof, -with which you can play any larks you like, so long as, with us, you ignore all advancement in other and more modern Arts. Lady Oil, President. R. A. R. Tape, Secretary. _ The Diploma. 39 This seems to me a fitting place to insert a parody ot the diploma given to the artist when he is elected an Associate of the Royal Academy. The inscription on the blue ribbon of the R.A. is really “ Labor et lngetiium." Why not substitute “ Otium cum Dignitate" ? Once elected, the favoured one is surely at “rest,” and would never dream of sullying the “ honour.” * “ All those who ’re Out find fault with those who ’re In — Till they’re elect ; then deem all censure sin. Who, Out, their venom on the R.A. spent, Once In, with all its ways are quite content.’’ The medallion in the centre of the design is a faithful copy of the original. I give you my translation of it above, and if the Royal Academy likes the design they are quite at liberty to adopt it. What think you of it ? Britannia at last points to Art recognising Water-Colour and Black-and-White, to the disgust of the three ugly sisters, Lady Oil, Sculpture, and Architecture. Poor little Engraving has collapsed in the presence of her “great automatic rival, the Sun,” and is no longer seen. The British Lion is waking up from his one hundred and twenty years of sleep: “the patient animal seems fairly roused at last.” * Soden, “Rap at the R.A.” 40 Royal Academy Antics. Clrrtion Snttrsu The antics of the Royal Academy in electing members to their body arc more like the feminine proceedings of a girls’ school than the business dealings of gentlemen. Until recently the cliquism that misguided their doings was quite unworthy of the representative professional artists of England. Perhaps this results from the fact that artists, unlike other professional men, have, with few exceptions, “fallen up” like Topsy. The typical artist has but one subject of conversation — “ Shop, shop, shop!” and dull shop, too. Next to singers and actors, painters arc the most uninteresting and least informed of pro- fessional men ; an evening in an art club will suffice to prove this to anyone. I mean nothing offensive in saying this ; artists are a hard-working set of men, as a rule, and absorption in their work early in life leaves them no time or gives them no opportunity of mixing with men of the world. A glance at the curious specimens of humanity that collect together at an artists’ soiree is sufficient to show the student of human nature the Election Antics. 4i dear, clever, hard-working artist is not of the every-day world, and ought to be protected and provided for, not by members of their own calling, but by sympathetic men of the outer world free from eccentricities and prejudices. I may inform the reader that this volume is written for the public ; the artists know my facts only too well, and need not be reminded that the governing body of the Royal Academy has been until recently cut up into cliques, and that the elections were seldom on the broad lines of ordinary merit, but were generally worked for the benefit of one small clique or the other. A few years ago, at the time most of the present men were elected, this paltry game was played fast and furious. We had the St. John’s Wood clique, the Kensington clique, the Hamp- stead clique, the Chelsea clique, and so on. The Scotch clique carried all before them for years ; indeed, I firmly' believe, had I — when a younger man — daubed in violent colours, and adopted my mother's maiden name, MacKenzic, I should now have been “ one of them.” To prove how absurd sometimes the “ system ” is still (absurd is rather too mild a term for this antic), I recall the election of one, whose name I will not give as he is still a member of the body and a very good fellow ; probably it was because of his being a good fellow he was elected. He belonged to — let us say — the Turn ’em Green clique, and as they' were in power that par- ticular y r ear, they elected their good fellow. The election took place just after the annual exhibition had been hung, and when the name of the elected came to light, it was discovered the Turn-’em-out clique were the “hangers” that year, and had sent the work of the “ good fellow ” to the dark cellars below, marked with a “ x ” signifying “ rejected ” ! Does this tend to prove they can manage their own affairs ? Either the selecting council were wrong in rejecting the artist’s work, or the electing body wrong in selecting him. This com- plication is the best reply to my query. The year before last (1888) they rejected — not “doubtful,” mark you — but rejected at once, so it is said, as not worthy of 42 Royal Academy Antics. consideration, Mr. Wyllie’s picture of “The Flying Dutchman.” He sent the same picture last year ; and, after he was elected a member of the Academy, it was on the line. Ssftonatrs' 3ntir$« The first symptoms of that disease known as Royal Aca- demy fever manifest themselves in the typical artist when he has been elected an Associate, and he thinks he is now in the running to be chosen one of the inner circle. His old Bohemian days are quickly forgotten ; the clay pipe is discarded for the cigarette ; the old velveteen coat for Poole’s latest cut. This is a latter-day fashion. The coat now makes the artist ; he is Fashion’s spoilt child. Snubs are now changed to smiles, anti the painter who used to be ignored is now idolised. The fact is, the old pre- judice against artists is happily fast dying out ; simply because practical paterfamilias, finding the studio quite as profitable as the counting-house, welcomes the artist craft, as furnishing a career for his son, as readily as he does the Church, the Army, or the Bar. That this prejudice still lingers to some extent, however, is evident from the fact that the political Diogenes, in his search for a model member of Parliament, has never but once thought of the artist ; and whilst brewers and poets, and such-like, are welcomed to the Upper House, artists are left out in the cold. Associates' Antics. 43 For this prejudice the lady novelist is to some extent ac- countable. Her marionettes are handed down as sacred heir- looms from novel to novel. The stereotyped wicked marquis, the injured governess, and the flighty ballet-girl, she may dangle before us without hurting anyone ; but the artist puppet — long-haired, ill-dressed, in seedy velvet coat and slouch hat, with empty brains and pocket, and the inevitable pot of beer and clay pipe — al- though he may exist, is out of the running. The world of art now only prospers in the world of fashion, and the Bohe- mian, like the poor rela- tion, is voted a nuisance. The Associate at- tacked with Royal Academy fever has to diet himself — that is, he must by hook or by crook meet members of the Royal Academy at dinner. Then his plea- sant house near Prim- rose Hill is considered on the wrong soil for the fever, and he must move to Kensington or Mayfair. He must avoid ’buses, taking carriage exercise instead ; he must build a studio an inch larger than his rival’s, figure at Mrs. Lyon Hunter’s “ At Homes,” give “At Homes” himself, and fly from home, any- where, anywhere out of plebeian London, when fashion goes. He is elected ! The worst of this malady is that when it leaves the patient, like other diseases it leaves sequela behind it. I fear, in most THE NEW STYLE. 44 Royal Academy Antics. cases degeneration sets in [“Pot-Boiling” is the technical term], and that R.A. which might have stood for “ Right ahead,” now signifies “ Rattle away.” His first relapse is the picture he has to give the Academy when he is elected. Nothing could show better this degenera- tion than a visit to the Royal Academy Chamber of Horrors, officially called “ the Diploma Gallery.” There is, in my opinion, something very sad in the great lack of itleas in the pictures of our painters. First paint your picture, then find the subject, is, I assure you, generally their modus operandi. The painter when in doubt makes a study from a pretty model, languishing eyes, big hat, and small waist. “Sure to sell;” and now that the artist is a full-blown R.A., his wares arc all in the front window. Picture- painting “becomes merely the manufac- ture, in slightly varying forms, of some trick of effect or manipulation which the artist has made his own, and which, having been recognised as a success, is repeated ad infinitum at little expenditure of thought or feeling,” The R.A. (“ Rattle away”) epidemic is too evident in many cases. How often do we see clever conscientious painters go to pieces once they are elected ! How many cases can be noted of the reverse effect ? Hardly any. Surely this proves that the academic system is a wrong one. It is wrong every way it is looked at. No private set of men should have it in their power to gratuitously damn the reputation of a professional man, simply because he may not be privately all that is pleasant to them, although his work may be vastly superior to that of his judges. On the other hand, how wrong it is to elect a mediocrity, and endow him for SAFE TO SKI. I.. As SO CIA TES' A .V TICS. 45 the rest of his life with exceptional privileges ! Thore should be no life members ; all ought to come up for re-election, like members of Parliament, town councillors, or any governing body properly constituted. But this is digression. I was men- tioning artists’ lack of ideas ; I should like to say a word about their lack of originality of style as well as subject. Look at the present realistic school — better call it the school of ugliness — which ignores Keats’ line, “ A thing of beauty is a joy for ever,” and paints pictures of nasty, dirty people, in the most approved French style. It is a matter of taste. Speaking for myself, I prefer to gaze upon a beautiful girl, rather than on a commonplace, uncleanly, uninteresting family being married, or buried, or shipwrecked, or whitewashed — l mean painted. The pretty, conventional school is old ; this ugly, realistic school is new. Our forefathers had art served up to them like a French dish— very pleasing, but tasting of nothing one knows, and not very satisfying. In the days when that beauti- ful young man, so familiar to all of us, walked out of a cos- tumier’s shop to make his last appeal at the village well to that charming young lady fresh from the dancing aca- demy, their ugly brothers and sisters, in thick muddy boots and unbecoming costumes, were ignored by artists. I think it is an artist’s mission to seek the beautiful, and paint it ; but lie must go to nature for it, not to fashion books. '1 hat great artist, that immortal genius, Fred Walker, showed how it was to be done. It is just as bad to be too pretty and conventional, as it is to ignore, brutally ignore, all that is pleas- ing, and deride all the graceful conventionalities of art. 46 Royal Academy Antics. If painters work honestly they have their own style, for there is no doubt that no two painters see through the same glasses. I shall never forget how forcibly this fact struck me in Venice. I arrived at the city in the sea one Easter Sunday morning at sunrise, and, as my gondola glided down the Grand Canal, I was dazed with the beauty of the scene, and Turner was revealed to me in all his grandeur ; and, although I saw St. Mark’s as Miss Montalba paints it, in miserable rain, and visited the lagoons in a perfect Whistler sea-mist, I prefer to dream of Venice as seen under the limelight of Turner’s magnificence. A, . “ 0 ,. ' s a M *T. COURSE PD Ass «c UT£s • ***«« * EP , ' H0SE A! ->-owe d t ' AT '°‘ V ,s TA, Ent of THe , K,S,NG s- . u,t °4V. X 1 “T T* v L^ e 1 k v°' >*■ IT, 7 ^ 3 % %. \ ^ % 9 * $ \ * «» \ \ ^ % ^ t % :- % * \ .

a t! emyisa P-Uicut -m 1JS, ° n > bui *** ncrrr 1 ** *9 ^ ^o:,:':,;:°- con ! hat Me Ko yai A C ° nvicti < ' nsom e^tL adern y a pre