I was anxious to bring the libraries, and especially the museums, into closer touch with the University, and have always maintained that co-operation between these institutions is absolutely necessary, if we are to get the best out of each.
The Walker Art Gallery.
The work in connection with the Walker Art Gallery has always been to me one of absorbing interest, and the annual visit in the spring to the London studios a very great treat. It is not merely that one has the opportunity of seeing the pictures of the year, but also to hear the views of the artists; men who lead lives of their own, in their art, and for their art, and whose views upon art matters open up new avenues for thought, and continually suggest new methods of action. Mr. Philip Rathbone was our first chairman of the Art Sub-Committee, and he did a great work in popularising our Autumn Exhibition in London. He was almost a bohemian by nature, and was quite at home in the artist world of London. He was a genius in many ways; he knew much about art; was a poet whose verses had a charm of their own; he was a delightful companion and inherited many of those remarkable traits of character which have distinguished the Rathbone family and have made them such benefactors of their native city.
Among the Studios.
We had some interesting experiences during our visits to the studios, and were often asked to criticise and suggest a name for a picture.
On one occasion when visiting Lord Leighton's studio, he was painting a charming picture entitled "Persephone," the coming of spring. He had painted some brown figs in the foreground. Mr. Rathbone remarked that in spring the figs should be green. Lord Leighton replied, "You are right," and dabbing his thumb into some green paint on his palette he smeared the figs with green, and when the picture was finished they remained green; but inasmuch as you see green and brown figs on a fig-tree at the same time, in spring and in autumn, Lord Leighton was not incorrect, and brown figs would, I think, have better suited his colour scheme. Mr. Byam Shaw painted a picture of "the Princes in the Tower" at Ludlow Castle, and looking out of the tower upon the landscape beyond, the eye rested upon a copse of larches, but as larches were not grown in England for a hundred years after the incident portrayed in the picture, they had to be painted out and other trees substituted.
Visiting the studio of Mr. Greiffenhagen we found him engaged upon a pastoral idyll, a shepherd boy embracing a red-headed girl in a field of poppies. He had as his models an Italian and his boy. Upon my remarking upon this, he explained his only inducement to paint the subject was a promise made by two of his friends, who were engaged to be married, to sit as his models. They came, and appeared to greatly enjoy the situation; but alas! they got married and did not return, and he was obliged to finish his picture with this Italian and his boy. It was a lovely picture, and now adorns our permanent collection. One is much impressed when visiting the studios by the comparative poverty of the profession. I don't suppose the average income of the London artist exceeds £200 to £300 per annum. They paint pictures but do not sell them. Formerly they were able to supplement their incomes by working in black and white, but machine processes have now superseded black and white, and the architect and house decorator have dealt pictorial art a severe blow by introducing styles of decoration which leave no room for the picture.
Lord Leighton was a great friend to Liverpool, but we did not treat him kindly. Whenever we had any difficulty in obtaining a picture for our exhibition he was always ready to take trouble and use his influence to secure it for us. We bought from him one of the best pictures he ever painted, the "Andromeda"; the price was £3,000, and he agreed to accept the amount payable over two years. The purchase was noised abroad, but unfortunately the Council declined to confirm it. Sir James Picton was not happy in the way he submitted the proposal to the Council. Manchester immediately secured the picture. Meeting Lord Leighton a year or so afterwards I apologised to him for the action of the Council, when he most magnanimously said, "I was not troubled for myself, but for you, and it pained me when I heard that Mr. Samuelson, your deputy chairman, twice came to my house to explain matters, but his courage failed him, and he went away without even ringing the bell."
Sir John Millais was appointed President of the Royal Academy in succession to Lord Leighton. It fell to me to call at his studio only a few months before he died, when he remarked: "You have in Liverpool my picture with a kick in it" (alluding to the picture of "Lorenzo and Isabella," in which the figure in the foreground is in the act of kicking a dog), and he continued, "I well remember that picture." This was spoken evidently with a sad recollection. I knew what was passing in his mind, for the late Sir Henry Tate told me that Mr. Millais painted the picture when quite a young man, for a dealer, and was to receive in payment £50. The dealer failed, and Mr. Millais found himself in great financial difficulty, when a stranger called and said, "I understand you have painted a picture for Mr. ——" (naming the dealer), and asked to look at it. He immediately bought it, giving £50, and the painter's difficulties were removed.
Mrs. Fraser, the wife of Dr. Fraser, the Bishop of Manchester, told me a good story of Millais. He was painting the Bishop's portrait, and the picture had reached the stage of the last sitting. Mr. Millais' dog jumped upon the chair upon which the artist had placed his palette. The palette fell on to the floor, paint side downwards. Millais was annoyed and kicked at the dog. The situation had an amusing side which caused the Bishop to laugh heartily, whereupon Millais looked still more angry, and exclaimed, "I have painted the wrong man, I had no idea you had such a sense of humour." The picture, although an excellent likeness, represents the Bishop as a demure ecclesiastic. Those who remember him will recollect how genial and full of humour he was.