Of all the artists influenced by Ruskin’s propaganda in favour of Naturalism Alfred William Hunt was probably the most sensitive and the most poetical. He was as ardent a student of “natural facts” as John Brett, Holman Hunt, or any other of Ruskin’s protégés, but his work was never, like so much of theirs, merely literal and tedious. His works prove to demonstration how little artistic theories count in determining the value of a work of art. We know Ruskin’s theories of realism were all wrong, but the sensitiveness of Alfred Hunt’s nerves, the intensity and rightness of his emotions, redeemed his work and gave it an inevitable stamp of greatness.
In the absorbingly interesting account of her father’s methods of work contributed by Miss Violet Hunt to “St. George’s Review” (1908) the demands made by his art on the nerves and character of the artist are vividly described. His daughter tells us that she has seen “delicately stained pieces of Whatman’s Imperial subjected to the most murderous ‘processes,’ and yet come out alive in the end.” Hunt “scrupled not to ‘work on the feelings of the paper,’ as his friend George Boughton used to tell him, “He severely sponged it into submission; he savagely scraped it into rawness and a fresh state of smarting receptivity. Yet some of the drawings that have suffered peine forte et dure are among the most cherished assets of certain private collectors, such as Mr. Newall and the late Mr. Humphrey Roberts.”
The “subtle finish and watchfulness of nature” which Ruskin praised in Hunt’s work was only the raw material of his art. It was the fervour and energy with which he subdued his facts to a genuinely poetic unity of feeling and expression that make Hunt’s drawings so significant and beautiful. To-day Hunt seems to be forgotten by all but a small number of admirers, but works like his Durham Misty with Colliery Smoke, Bamborough from the Sands, Cloud March at Twilight, and many others as poignant and as beautiful, are sufficient guarantees that he will not always be neglected.
JAMES ABBOTT McNEILL WHISTLER
[Born at Lowell, Massachusetts, July 10, 1834; lived in Russia, 1843-’49; studied at the Military Academy, West Point, 1851-1854; engaged on United States coast and geodetic survey for about a year; went to Paris, 1855, and studied in Gleyre’s studio; published set of thirteen etchings—“The French Set”—1858; settled in London, 1860; published “The Thames” set of etchings, 1871; libel action against Ruskin, 1878; bankrupt, 1879; “Ten-o’clock” lecture, 1884; portrait of Carlyle bought for Glasgow, 1891; “Grand Prix” for painting, and another for engraving, at Paris exhibition, 1900; died at 74 Cheyne Walk, July 17, 1903.
Exhibited: Royal Academy, 1859-’65, ’67, ’70, ’72, ’79; Society of British Artists, 1884-’87; Grosvenor Gallery, 1877-’79, ’81-’84; Dudley Gallery (Oil), 1871-’73, ’75; Dudley Gallery (Black and White), 1872, ’79, ’80; Society of Portrait Painters, 1891-’93; Royal Scottish Academy, 1899, 1901-’04.
Works in Public Galleries: National Gallery; Glasgow Art Gallery.
Biographical and Critical Sources: “The Art of Whistler,” by T. R. Way and G. R. Dennis, 1903; “Life of Whistler,” by E. R. and J. Pennell, 2 vols., 1908; “Memoirs of Whistler,” by T. R. Way, 1912; Wedmore’s “Whistler’s Etchings”; “D. N. B.” (Supplement).
Reproductions: The “Whistler Portfolio” (THE STUDIO Special Publication, 1904); the monthly issues of The Studio; in Way’s and Pennells’ works cited above, etc.]
In Turner’s and Alfred Hunt’s works the multitudinous objects of Nature are subdued to poetical and decorative purposes chiefly by the influence of the atmosphere. But though subdued in the final result the facts were always vividly present to the minds of these artists. With Whistler and all those who like him were influenced by the theories of Impressionism, such facts were less considered. They began with the study of values and tones, and relied almost entirely on the justness with which these were rendered, being content with a merely slight and grudging suggestion of the objects which were veiled in their envelopment of atmosphere. The difference, I admit, is only one of degree. But it accounts, I think, for the difference between a drawing like Whistler’s water-colour of London Bridge (reproduced in Mr. Way’s “The Art of James McNeill Whistler,” p. 96) and, say, Alfred Hunt’s Coast Scene near Whitby (1878).