Friday, June 27, 2014

"The Gentle Art of Making Enemies:" Painter vs. Critic

In 1890, the painter James Abbot McNeil Whistler sued the art critic John Ruskin for libel.  This court case is an early example of an artist fighting for abstraction and the artist's right to say what art is.  Ruskin wrote, "I have seen, and heard, much of cockney impudence before now; but never expected to hear a coxcomb ask two hundred guineas for flinging a pot of paint in the public's face."  The well-known and respected critic claimed Whistler's Nocturne in Black and Gold was not a finished painting and Whistler had no right to exhibit or charge money for it.  The harsh criticism caused Whistler to sue.  The artist later published "The Gentle Art of Making Enemies," which detailed proceedings from the court.  In the exchange, Whistler appears very jaunty, polite, and entertaining.  He elicits many laughs from the court room.  The lawyers question him about the subject of the paintings, how long it took him to finish it, what certain paint splatters represented, and even arbitrarily asking if he left his paintings outside to dry.  

In an revealing comment on the Academy's control over art Whistler states: 
"I have sent pictures to the Academy which have not been received. I believe that is the experience of all artists."  
Whistler's statement suggests that being denied by the Academy was almost a badge of honor proving the person was an artist.  

Nocturne in Black an Gold: Falling Rocket

While being cross examined by the attorney-general, Whistler points out the subtleties of word choice in his title: 
"The nocturne in black and gold is a night piece, and represents the fireworks at Cremorne."
"Not a view of Cremorne?"
"If it were called a view of Cremorne, it would certainly bring about nothing but disappointment on the part of the beholders. (Laughter.) It is an artistic arrangement. It was marked two hundred guineas."
"Is not that what we, who are not artists, would call a stiffish price?"
"I think it very likely that that may be so."
"But artists always give good value for their money, don't they?"
"I am glad to hear that so well established. (A laugh.)"

The attorney-general attempted to nail down the value of the painting by asking Whistler how long it took him to paint it:
"Now, Mr. Whistler. Can you tell me how long it took you to knock off that nocturne?"
"I beg your pardon?" (Laughter.)
"Oh! I am afraid that I am using a term that applies rather perhaps to my own work. I should have said, How long did you take to paint that picture?"
"Oh, no! permit me, I am too greatly flattered to think that you apply, to work of mine, any term that you are in the habit of using with reference to your own. Let us say then how long did I take to--'knock off,' I think that is it--to knock off that nocturne; well, as well as I remember, about a day."
"Only a day?"
"Well, I won't be quite positive; I may have still put a few more touches to it the next day if the painting were not dry. I had better say then, that I was two days at work on it."
"Oh, two days! The labor of two days, then, is that for which you ask two hundred guineas!"
"No;--I ask it for the knowledge of a lifetime." (Applause.)"
Whistler's flourish at the end and the appreciation by the court room show the value of art is often much cheaper than the time it takes to paint.  And shows the thought artist's put into their work. 


Nocturne: Blue and Silver, 1871.

The picture called Nocturne: Blue and Silver was produced in Court and the lawyers attempt to identify where the bridge is:
"That is Mr. Grahame's picture. It represents Battersea Bridge by moonlight."
Baron Huddleston: "Which part of the picture is the bridge?" (Laughter.)
His Lordship earnestly rebuked those who laughed. And witness explained to his Lordship the composition of the picture.
"Do you say that this is a correct representation of Battersea Bridge?"
"I did not intend it to be a 'correct' portrait of the bridge. It is only a moonlight scene and the pier in the center of the picture may not be like the piers at Battersea Bridge as you know them in broad daylight. As to what the picture represents that depends upon who looks at it. To some persons it may represent all that is intended; to others it may represent nothing."
"The prevailing color is blue?"
"Perhaps."
"Are those figures on the top of the bridge intended for people?"
"They are just what you like."
"Is that a barge beneath?"
"Yes. I am very much encouraged at your perceiving that. My whole scheme was only to bring about a certain harmony of color."

Battersea Bridge today

Whistler's replies speak to the ambiguity of art and how the audience can determine the meaning.  This is my favorite aspect of art history: it can mean anything.  Art speaks to everyone, there are no language barriers, and there are multiple meanings. Art reflects life, 
With people still looking at abstract paintings and saying, "my kid could do that," we are still fighting for the acceptance of abstraction, the acceptance of the artist's right to decide what is art.  

Here Whistler bravely accepts his inability to change the Attorney-General's mind: 
"But do you think now that you could make me see the beauty of that picture?"
The witness then paused, and examining attentively the Attorney-General's face and looking at the picture alternately, said, after apparently giving the subject much thought, while the Court waited in silence for his answer:
"No! Do you know I fear it would be as hopeless as for the musician to pour his notes into the ear of a deaf man. (Laughter.)"

In the end Whistler won, but only $1.

What purpose does pointing out the negative achieve?  What does tearing down someone accomplish?  Not much. Maybe we should stop being so critical and start praising more. 











Friday, June 6, 2014

Bound in Flesh

In a lovely collaboration between history, science, and literature, Harvard University confirmed today that one of their books is bound with human skin.  No, you did not read that wrong.  As early as the 16th century people sometimes bound books with humans.  Now, do not think this is some morbid punishment for criminals or some thrifty black market trick.  People actually desired to be flayed and turned into books as a way to immortalize themselves.  

Arsene Houssaye's "On the Destiny of the Soul" front cover

The book, Arsène Houssaye’s “Des destinées de l’ame” (On the Destiny of the Soul), contains a note stating it was bound with skin from the back of a woman.  This woman was probably not someone who wanted to be immortalized since she was a mental patient who died of natural causes.  Since no one claimed her body, she was fair game for becoming a book.  A note found in the book reveals the reason for binding with this peculiar medium: 

This book is bound in human skin parchment on which no ornament has been stamped to preserve its elegance. By looking carefully you easily distinguish the pores of the skin. A book about the human soul deserved to have a human covering: I had kept this piece of human skin taken from the back of a woman. It is interesting to see the different aspects that change this skin according to the method of preparation to which it is subjected. Compare for example with the small volume I have in my library, Sever. Pinaeus de Virginitatis notis which is also bound in human skin but tanned with sumac.”

The patron, Dr. Ludovic Bouland, wrote this gruesome explanation and he was the one to bind it in human flesh.  Apparently, this bibliophile was quite a collector of books bound in human skin seeing as he had another one and was a connoisseur of the quality and elegance of such binding.  Being a doctor also allowed him access to bodies.

Despite the creepy, terrifying confirmation, I am sure Harvard is very excited about this discovery because these books are rare and the morbid curiosity of viewers will draw them to such a dark item.  This is especially fortuitous for Harvard because another book of their's believed to be bound in human skin just went through the same scientific experiments.  The scientists concluded the book was actually bound in sheepskin. 

Juan Gutiérrez’ Practicarum quaestionum circa leges regias Hispaniae front cover

People believed it was human because the book, Juan Gutiérrez’ Practicarum quaestionum circa leges regias Hispaniae (Madrid, 1605-1606), contains an inscription stating:

The bynding of this booke is all that remains of my dear friende Jonas Wright, who was flayed alive by the Wavuma on the Fourth Day of August, 1632. King Mbesa did give me the book, it being one of poore Jonas chiefe possessions, together with ample of his skin to bynd it. Requiescat in pace.”

Maybe King Mbesa lied and just gave him sheepskin and wanted to keep the human skin for himself or maybe the king found it disgusting.  Maybe the dear friend Jonas was actually a sheep and this is just a creepy dedication to a pet.  No one knows as of right now.  

Another book bound in human skin exhibits a different reason for binding a book with a piece of someone.  This book is found in Surgeons' Hall museum in Edinburgh, England.  It is a pocket sized book with faded gold lettering saying ‘EXECUTED 28 JAN 1829’ and ‘BURKE’S SKIN POCKET BOOK.’   The binding on this book is William Burkes, a famous 19th century murder who killed 16 people to sell their bodies to anatomists.  Ironically, Burke was convicted, hung, and publicly dissected.  

William Burke front cover



Can you imagine holding and reading a book bound in human skin? Does is make your skin crawl?  Of course, today's views on such a subject are vastly different from opinions back then.  This is another example of the crazy, quirky, morbid aspects of history that most people would find appalling now