tchings of Venice, executed by Mr.
Whistler. Exhibitions are sometimes of slender constitution nowadays.
Mr. Whistler's etchings are twelve in number, of unimportant
dimensions, and of the slightest workmanship. They convey a certain
sense of distance and atmosphere, otherwise it cannot be said that
they are of particular value or originality. They rather resemble
vague first intentions, or memoranda for future use, than designs
completely carried out. Probably every artist coming from Venice
brings with him some such outlines as these in his sketch-books.
Apparently, so far as his twelve etchings are to be considered as
evidence in the matter, Venice has not deeply stirred either Mr.
Whistler or his art.
_A Proposal_
[Sidenote: _The World_, Dec. 29, 1880.]
Atlas, _mon bon, mefiez-vous de vos gens!_ Your art gentleman says
that Mr. Whistler exhibits twelve etchings, "slight in execution and
unimportant in size." Now the private assassin you keep, for us, need
not be hampered by mere connoisseurship in the perpetration of his
duty--therefore, _passe_, for the execution--but he should not
compromise his master's reputation for brilliancy, and print things
that he who runs may scoff at.
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." As well speak of one of your own charming _mots_ as unimportant
in length!
Look to it, Atlas. Be severe with your man. Tell him his "job" should
be "neatly done." I could cut my own throat better; and if need be, in
case of his dismissal, I offer my services.
Meanwhile, yours joyously,
[Illustration]
_The Painter-Etcher Papers_
[Sidenote: "A Storm in an AEsthetic Teapot."
_The Cuckoo_, April 11, 1881.]
The exhibition of etchings at the Hanover Gallery has been the
occasion of one of those squabbles which amuse everybody--perhaps,
even including the quarrellers themselves. Some etchings, exceedingly
like Mr. Whistler's in manner, but signed "Frank Duveneck," were sent
to the Painter-Etchers' Exhibition from Venice. The Painter-Etchers
appear to have suspected for a moment that the works were really Mr.
Whistler's; and, not desiring to be the victims of an easy hoax on the
part of that gentleman, three of their members--Dr. Seymour Haden, Dr.
Hamilton, and Mr. Legros--went to the Fine Art Society's Gallery, in
New Bond Stree
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