Whistler’s Grievance
An Entrapped Interview
The Herald correspondent saw Mr. Whistler at the Hôtel Suisse, and asked the artist about his affairs with the American Art Jury of the Exhibition.
New York Herald, Paris Edition, Oct. 3, 1889.
“I believe the Herald made the statement,” said Mr. Whistler, “that I had withdrawn all my etchings and a full-length portrait from the American section. It all came about in this way: In the first place, before the pictures were sent in, I received a note from the American Art Department asking me to contribute some of my work. It was at that time difficult for me to collect many of my works; but I borrowed what I could from different people, and sent in twenty-seven etchings and the portrait.”
“You can imagine that a few etchings do not have any effect at all; so I sent what I could get together. Shortly afterwards I received a note saying: ‘Sir—Ten of your exhibits have not received the approval of the jury. Will you kindly remove them?’”
“At the bottom of this note was the name ‘Hawkins’—General Hawkins, I believe—a cavalry officer, who had charge of the American Art Department of the Exhibition.
“Well! the next day I went to Paris and called at the American headquarters of the Exhibition. I was ushered into the presence of this gentleman, Hawkins, to whom I said:—‘I am Mr. Whistler, and I believe this note is from you. I have come to remove my etchings’; but I did not mention that my work was to be transferred to the English Art Section.”
“‘Ah!’ said the gentleman—the officer—’we were very sorry not to have had space enough for all your etchings, but we are glad to have seventeen and the portrait.”
“‘You are too kind’ I said, ‘but really I will not trouble you.’”
“Mr. Hawkins was quite embarrassed, and urged me to reconsider my determination, but I withdrew every one of the etchings, and they are now well hung in the English Department.”
“I did not mind the fact that my works were criticized, but it was the discourteous manner in which it was done. If the request to me had been made in proper language, and they had simply said:—‘Mr. Whistler, we have not space enough for twenty-seven etchings. Will you kindly select those which you prefer, and we shall be glad to have them,’ I would have given them the privilege of placing them in the American Section.”...
“Whacking Whistler”
In an interview in yesterday’s Herald the eccentric artist, Mr. J. McNeill Whistler, “jumped” in a most emphatic manner upon General New York Herald, Paris Edition, Oct. 4. 1889. Hawkins, Commissioner of the American Art Department at the Exhibition. He objects to the General for being a cavalry officer; refers to him sarcastically as “Hawkins,” and declares him ignorant of the most elementary principles alike of art and politeness—all this because he, Whistler, was requested by the Commissioner to remove from the Exhibition premises some ten of his rejected etchings.
In a spirit of fair play a correspondent called upon General Hawkins, giving him an opportunity, if he felt so disposed, of “jumping,” in his turn, on his excitable opponent. The General did feel “so disposed,” and proceeded, in popular parlance, to “see” Mr. J. McNeill Whistler and “go him one better.” In this species of linguistic gymnastics, by the way, the military Commissioner asks no odds of any one. He began by gently remarking that Mr. Whistler, in his published remarks, had soared far out of the domain of strict veracity. This was not bad for a “starter,” and was ably supported by the following detailed statement:—
“Mr. Whistler says he received a note from me. That is a mistake. I have never in my life written a line to Mr. Whistler.[40] [40]The official memory:
“Dear Sir—I wish by return mail you would send description for oils; and if you desire to have titles to etchings printed, you will have to furnish the necessary material for copy.—Yours faithfully,
Rush C. Hawkins,
Commissariat General, Paris, March 29, 1889.
(Autograph.)
To Mr. Whistler.” What he did receive was a circular with my name printed at the bottom. These circulars were sent to all the artists who had pictures refused by the jury, and contained a simple request that such pictures be removed.
“Our way of doing business was not, it seems, up to Mr. Whistler’s standard of politeness, so he got angry and took away, not only the ten rejected etchings, but seventeen others which had been accepted. It is a little singular that among about one hundred and fifty artists who received this circular, Mr. Whistler should have been the only one to discover its latent discourtesy. How great must be Mr. Whistler’s capacity for detecting a snub where none exists!”
“In any case, there is not the slightest reason for Mr. Whistler’s venting his ire upon me. I had no more to do with either accepting or rejecting his pictures than I had with painting them. What he sent us was judged on its merits by a competent and impartial jury of his peers. If there were ten etchings rejected it only shows that there were ten etchings not worthy of acceptance. A few days after the affair a trio of journalists—not all men either—came to me, demanding that I reverse this ‘iniquitous decision,’ as they styled it. I told these three prying scribblers in a polite way that if they would kindly attend to their own affairs I would try to attend to mine. In this connection, I may remark that there are in Paris a number of correspondents who ought not to be allowed within gun-shot of a newspaper office.”
“The next mis-statement in Mr. Whistler’s interview is in regard to the ultimate disposal of his important etchings. His words are:—‘Mr. Hawkins was quite embarrassed, and urged me to reconsider my determination, but I withdrew every one of the etchings, and they are now well hung in the English department.’”
“Now, I leave it to any fair-minded person if the plain inference from this statement is not that the whole twenty-seven etchings were accepted by the English department. If not, what in heaven’s name is he crowing about? But the truth is that while we rejected only ten of his etchings, the English department rejected eighteen of them, and of the nine accepted only hung two on the line. Had Mr. Whistler been the possessor of a more even temper and a little more common sense, he would have had five or six of his works on the line in the American department, and nearly twice as many on exhibition than is actually the case. Really, I fail to see what he gained by the exchange, unless it was a valuable experience. He says I was embarrassed when I saw him; I fancy he will be embarrassed when he sees these facts in ‘cold type.’”
“Whistler’s Grievance”
TO THE EDITOR:
Sir—I beg that you will kindly print immediately these, my regrets, that General Rush Hawkins should have been spurred into unwonted and unbecoming expression by what I myself read with considerable New York Herald. bewilderment in the New York Herald, October 3, under the head of “Whistler’s Grievance.”
I can assure the gallant soldier that I have no grievance.
Had I known that, when—over what takes the place of wine and walnuts in Holland—I remembered lightly the military methods of the jury, I was being “interviewed,” I should have adopted as serious a tone as the original farce would admit of; or I might have even refused to be a party at all to the infliction upon your readers of so old and threadbare a story as that of the raid upon the works of art in the American section of the Universal Exhibition.
Your correspondent, I fancy, felt much more warmly, than did I, wrongs that—who knows?—are doubtless rights in the army; and my sympathies, I confess, are completely with the General, who did only, as he complains, his duty in that state of life in which it had pleased God, and the War Department, to call him, when, according to order, he signed that naïvely authoritative note, circular, warrant, or what not—for he did irretrievably fasten his name to it, whether with pen or print, thereby hopelessly making the letter his own. Thus have we responsibility, like greatness, sometimes thrust upon us.
On receipt of the document I came—I saw the commanding officer, who, until now, I fondly trusted, would ever remember me as pleasantly as I do himself—and, knowing despatch in all military matters to be of great importance, I then and there relieved him of the troublesome etchings, and carried off the painting.
It is a sad shock to me to find that the good General speaks of me without affection, and that he evinces even joy when he says with a view to my entire discomfiture:—“While we rejected only ten of his etchings, the English department rejected eighteen of them, and of the nine accepted, only hung two on the line.”
Now, he is wrong!—the General is wrong.
The etchings now hanging in the English section—and perfect is their hanging, notwithstanding General Hawkins’s flattering anxiety—are the only ones I sent there.
In the haste and enthusiasm of your interviewer, I have, on this point, been misunderstood.
There was moreover here no question of submitting them to a “competent and impartial jury of his peers”—one of whom, by the way, I am informed upon undoubted authority, had never before come upon an “etching” in his hitherto happy and unchequered Western career.
We all knew that the space allotted to the English department was exceedingly limited, and each one refrained from abusing it. Here I would point out again, hoping this time to be clearly understood, that, had the methods employed in the American camp been more civil, if less military, all further difficulties might have been avoided. Had I been properly advised that the room was less than the demand for place, I would, of course, have instantly begged the gentlemen of the jury to choose, from among the number, what etchings they pleased. So the matter would have ended, and you, Sir, would have been without this charming communication!
The pretty embarrassment of General Hawkins on the occasion of my visit, I myself liked, thinking it seemly, and part of the good form of a West Point man, who is taught that a drum-head court martial—and what else in the experience of this finished officer should so fit him for sitting in judgment upon pictures?—should be presided at with grave and softened demeanour.
If I mistook the General’s manner, it is another illusion the less.
And I have, Sir,
the honour to be,
Your obedient servant,
Amsterdam, Oct. 6.