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拍品专文
The imitator is a poor kind of creature. If the man who paints only the tree, or flower, or other surface he sees before him were an artist, the king of artists would be the photographer. It is for the artist to do something beyond this.
The Dyer is one of the most magnificent plates from Whistler's work in Venice . The etching contains all the important elements that exemplify Whistler's idiosyncratic talents as a printmaker. It also reflects the many and diverse lessons learned over 30 years of experimentation, refinement, and travel.
A seminal moment in Whistler's development as a printmaker occurred in 1857 when he attended a landmark exhibition in Manchester. Here, he saw masterpieces of Dutch printmaking by Berchem, Ostade, Waterloo, Dujardin and, most importantly, Rembrandt. This encounter spawned a lifelong love affair with the Dutch 17th century tradition, and from then this point on, he devoted his time to portraits, landscapes, and domestic scenes.
Another early and important lesson in printmaking for Whistler came the following year at the Paris workshop of Delatre. Here, he learned the practice of 'artistic' printing – leaving thin veils of ink selectively on the plate to change the mood of the image. While this technical lesson might have come in Paris, Whistler’s primary artistic model was undoubtedly Rembrandt since both he and his brother-in-law, Francis Seymour Haden, had become devoted acolytes of the artist. As inspiration, they often called on one of the greatest examples of printmaking ever, Haden's rare, first state of Rembrandt's The Three Crosses, which was a masterclass in the potentialities of line and tone.
It was also in Paris that Whistler began to pay closer attention to paper. The paper most widely available then at the time was bleached white and made from wood-pulp, but Whistler favored old Dutch papers, which could be found by diligently searching in the fly-leaves of old books. He also valued thin, silky Japanese papers, which were just becoming available as European trade relations began to open in the nineteenth century with Japan after their long isolation.
Whistler’s interest in Japan was not only confined to paper, however. He was profoundly influenced by ukiyo-e woodcuts and the way in which they flattened the picture space. Towards the end of the 1850s, he began to synthesize these ideas with the new lessons then being learned from photography. The effects of this radical foreshortening were first seen in his Thames etchings from the late 1850s.
The Dyer is one of the most magnificent plates from Whistler's work in Venice . The etching contains all the important elements that exemplify Whistler's idiosyncratic talents as a printmaker. It also reflects the many and diverse lessons learned over 30 years of experimentation, refinement, and travel.
A seminal moment in Whistler's development as a printmaker occurred in 1857 when he attended a landmark exhibition in Manchester. Here, he saw masterpieces of Dutch printmaking by Berchem, Ostade, Waterloo, Dujardin and, most importantly, Rembrandt. This encounter spawned a lifelong love affair with the Dutch 17th century tradition, and from then this point on, he devoted his time to portraits, landscapes, and domestic scenes.
Another early and important lesson in printmaking for Whistler came the following year at the Paris workshop of Delatre. Here, he learned the practice of 'artistic' printing – leaving thin veils of ink selectively on the plate to change the mood of the image. While this technical lesson might have come in Paris, Whistler’s primary artistic model was undoubtedly Rembrandt since both he and his brother-in-law, Francis Seymour Haden, had become devoted acolytes of the artist. As inspiration, they often called on one of the greatest examples of printmaking ever, Haden's rare, first state of Rembrandt's The Three Crosses, which was a masterclass in the potentialities of line and tone.
It was also in Paris that Whistler began to pay closer attention to paper. The paper most widely available then at the time was bleached white and made from wood-pulp, but Whistler favored old Dutch papers, which could be found by diligently searching in the fly-leaves of old books. He also valued thin, silky Japanese papers, which were just becoming available as European trade relations began to open in the nineteenth century with Japan after their long isolation.
Whistler’s interest in Japan was not only confined to paper, however. He was profoundly influenced by ukiyo-e woodcuts and the way in which they flattened the picture space. Towards the end of the 1850s, he began to synthesize these ideas with the new lessons then being learned from photography. The effects of this radical foreshortening were first seen in his Thames etchings from the late 1850s.