Lot Essay
This is a version of Frith's famous painting The Railway Station (Royal Holloway College). The third of the artist's great panoramas of modern life, succeeding Ramsgate Sands (R.A. 1854; Royal Collection) and Derby Day (R.A. 1858; Tate Gallery), the original picture was commissioned by the London art dealer Louis Victor Flatow in 1860 for the considerable sum of (4,500, including copyright. The scene is set on Paddington station, the terminus of the Great Western Railway built a decade earlier by Isambard Kingdom Brunel and Matthew Digby Wyatt; and the crowd of over sixty figures embraces a number of anecdotal groups for which Frith was renowned: a harassed family over-burdened with luggage, a mother saying goodbye to her young school-bound son, a foreigner embarrassed over the payment of a cab fare, a newly married couple leaving for their honeymoon, the arrest of an ashen-faced criminal, and so on. The detectives making the arrest were painted from two figures well known at the time, Detective-Sargeant Michael Haydon (on the left with handcuffs in hand) and Detective-Sargeant James Brett (with his hand on the criminal's shoulder), and several other 'real' figures appear: the artist and his wife (as the parents of the boys going off to school), an Italian refugee who taught Frith's daughters Italian (the embarrassed foreigner), and the dealer Flatow (the small round man engaged in conversation with the engine-driver).
The picture took two years to paint, its progress being much reported in the press for a public whose interest had been aroused by Frith's earlier successes. Frith waived his right to exhibit it at the Royal Academy for a further (750, and it was shown from April to September 1862 at Flatow's Gallery in the Haymarket, where it was seen by over 21,000 people. The art critic Tom Taylor produced a pamphlet explaining it in detail. It was also exhibited at Hayward and Leggatt's premises in Cornhill before being taken on a tour of provincial towns, and an engraving was undertaken by Francis Holl (father of Frank). In 1863 it was sold by Flatow to Henry Graves, the Pall Mall print-seller and publisher, for (16,300, including copyright. He continued to publish engravings of it, and it was lent to three major international exhibitions, in London (1872), Philadelphia (1876) and Paris (1878). However, its commercial value slowly declined, and Thomas Holloway bought it from Graves in 1883 for a mere (21,000.
Not surprisingly for such a popular picture, The Railway Station exists in several versions, all smaller than the original. The best known is the one in the Leicester Art Gallery (16¾ x 36 1/8in.), signed by Frith and dated 1863. Another (20½ x 44in.), also signed by the artist but not dated, is in the Royal Collection. The present version, which is signed and dated 'W.P. Frith fecit 1862', has traditionally been known as an autograph work, and appeared as such when offered for sale at Sotheby's Belgravia in April 1980. However, a fortnight before the sale Jeremy Maas, the London art dealer and authority on Victorian paintings who had already referred to the matter in his book Gambart. Prince of the Victorian Art World, (1975, p.136), issued a 'memorandum' expressing his view that the picture was 'painted either, for the most part, by Marcus Stone, R.A., or, more likely, entirely by him, even though it is clearly signed and dated (1862) by Frith.' The matter was widely reported in the press, and the 'memorandum' was subsequently published by Jeannie Chapel, who accepted Maas's arguments, as an Appendix to her catalogue of the Royal Holloway College pictures, 1982.
It should be said at the outset that no-one is denying the quality of the picture, which is superb. The condition, too, is excellent. The only point at issue is whether the painter is Frith himself or Marcus Stone. Maas based his claim on a diary entry in the Journals of Walter White (1898), dated 26 May 1862. 'Called on Marcus Stone, found him copying Frith's picture of Railway station - the picture for which the painter was paid 8,000 guineas [a figure current at the time]. I had a good look at it, and came to the conclusion 'twas not worth the money... Saw the picture taken down, locked in a case, and carted off to its exhibition-room in the Harmarket. In the copy M.S. is making, all the figures were outlined by an engraver's outliner who can do nothing else, he had (40 for his job. Marcus will have (300 for his, and has to make besides a second copy.'
As Maas points out, there is every reason why this account should be accurate. In 1862 White was Assistance Secretary to the Royal Society, and the diary shows that he kept a close eye on happenings at the Royal Academy. Moreover, as his brother William, who edited the diary, observed, 'he was accurate, painstaking, and receptive.' William too was 'accurate': 'the original handwriting of the diarist has been carefully copied and followed.'
As Maas also argues, the circumstances of Stone's career at this point make it likely that he would be the author of a high-quality copy. 'He was the son of Frank Stone, R.A., a successful genre painter and a friend of Frith. Marcus had painted from an early age. So quickly did he mature that in 1858, at the age of 18, he exhibited his first picture at the R.A. In that same year, however, his father died suddenly, leaving his son to fend for himself in a highly competitive world (The Life and Work of Marcus Stone,R.A. by A.L. Baldry, 1896, pp. 8-9). He exhibited again in 1859, 1860 and 1861. By 1862 therefore he was a highly competent and fully professional painter, but still in need of earning a good living and willing to resort 'to rude means for food'. Frith, on the other hand, was at the height of his reputation, his most famous pictures already behind him, and impatient to press on with other work, including the highly lucrative but onerous commission to paint the three London Street Scenes commissioned from him by Gambart in 1862 for (16,000 (although, the contract was not actually signed until 19 August)'.
Maas was fortunate in that, by a strange coincidence, a painting exhibited by Stone at the Royal Academy in 1862, indeed actually mentioned by White later in the diary entry quoted above, A Painter's First Work, was included in the same Sotheby's Belgravia sale as The Railway Station. Since Sotheby's obligingly hung them in juxtaposition, he was able to compare them closely. 'Under excellent lighting, and with a magnifying glass, I have scrutinised both pictures minutely and repeatedly, paying particular attention to materials, faces, hair, eyes, shoes and glass. The handling of the paint in both cases seems to me identical. Moreover, it also seems to me that the paintwork in The Railway Station under review does not resemble that which is normal to Frith. Both these pictures are painted with an almost completely flat surface; nor does this version bear any of Frith's highly individual calligraphy, so evident in the original, which is also painted with far more impasto.'
Maas went on to say that his belief that the picture was by Stone was 'further strengthened by a process of elimination against the other known versions, traced or untraced', which he proceeded to list. Finally he dealt with what to many is the most difficult problem of all, the picture's signature. 'How is it then that this version is clearly signed and dated 1862 by Firth? To understand this question properly one would need to understand the complexities of the mid-Victorian art market. I can only refer the reader to Gambart in which I have attempted to do this. I am confident that any reader of this work would soon realise that neither Frith nor Flatow were above deception and duplicity, particularly where they may be used as a means of making a lot of money in the quickest possible time. Even apart from this, it was not at all unusual for artists to employ other artists as studio assistants, particularly in the painting of replicas for engravers. The original picture had always, whenever possible, to be on public view, so as to obtain the maximum number of subscriptions to the engraving. Frith records his admiration of Flatow in this respect.
I believe that Stone was eminently capable of painting a version of The Railway Station and that Frith would consider that merely adding a signature and dating it were sufficent evidence that he had 'finished' the picture. Seen in the context of the period, such practice is not as sharp as it seems today.'
Sotheby's defended their attribution, pointing out that Maas's evidence was 'inconclusive' and stating their belief that the picture was 'if not entirely from the hand of Frith, at the very least finished and polished by the artist' (Daily Telegraph, 9 April 1980). Ultimately everyone must make up his own mind on the subject, but having examined the evidence, our view is that Maas is right. We did not have the advantage of comparing the picture with A Painter's First Work, but our memories are fresh of another early picture by Stone, Working and Shirking, exhibited at the R.A. in 1864, which we sold on 12 June 1992, lot 101, and the handling there seems to us very similar to that of The Railway Station. As Maas observes, Frith's touch, nervous and calligraphic, is very recognisable, and we fail to find it in our picture. Nor does this seem to bear evidence of 'finishing' and 'polishing' by Frith; the technique is remarkably consistent throughout, strongly suggesting that one hand, not two, was involved. Finally, there is the 'psychology' of the figures. Frith's types, both male and female, are highly characteristic, and it is true that many of the heads in our picture conform to them. It is, after all, a faithful copy of the original, probably made for the engraver. But no copyist can entirely sink his own personality, and the heads also bear evidence of another mind at work. This again, in our view, seems likely to be the painter of Working and Shirking, which dates from only two years after The Railway Station.
In fact, if the arguments are correct, it is precisely the interplay between the minds of Frith and Stone that lend the picture its fascination. While the conception and invention are Frith's, at his best period, the execution is by a young artist of great talent eager to excell with an important commission at an early stage of his career. It may well be felt that this makes the picture more interesting and desirable than if it had been a replica by Frith himself, whose later copies after early successes are often rather 'tired' in handling.
The picture took two years to paint, its progress being much reported in the press for a public whose interest had been aroused by Frith's earlier successes. Frith waived his right to exhibit it at the Royal Academy for a further (750, and it was shown from April to September 1862 at Flatow's Gallery in the Haymarket, where it was seen by over 21,000 people. The art critic Tom Taylor produced a pamphlet explaining it in detail. It was also exhibited at Hayward and Leggatt's premises in Cornhill before being taken on a tour of provincial towns, and an engraving was undertaken by Francis Holl (father of Frank). In 1863 it was sold by Flatow to Henry Graves, the Pall Mall print-seller and publisher, for (16,300, including copyright. He continued to publish engravings of it, and it was lent to three major international exhibitions, in London (1872), Philadelphia (1876) and Paris (1878). However, its commercial value slowly declined, and Thomas Holloway bought it from Graves in 1883 for a mere (21,000.
Not surprisingly for such a popular picture, The Railway Station exists in several versions, all smaller than the original. The best known is the one in the Leicester Art Gallery (16¾ x 36 1/8in.), signed by Frith and dated 1863. Another (20½ x 44in.), also signed by the artist but not dated, is in the Royal Collection. The present version, which is signed and dated 'W.P. Frith fecit 1862', has traditionally been known as an autograph work, and appeared as such when offered for sale at Sotheby's Belgravia in April 1980. However, a fortnight before the sale Jeremy Maas, the London art dealer and authority on Victorian paintings who had already referred to the matter in his book Gambart. Prince of the Victorian Art World, (1975, p.136), issued a 'memorandum' expressing his view that the picture was 'painted either, for the most part, by Marcus Stone, R.A., or, more likely, entirely by him, even though it is clearly signed and dated (1862) by Frith.' The matter was widely reported in the press, and the 'memorandum' was subsequently published by Jeannie Chapel, who accepted Maas's arguments, as an Appendix to her catalogue of the Royal Holloway College pictures, 1982.
It should be said at the outset that no-one is denying the quality of the picture, which is superb. The condition, too, is excellent. The only point at issue is whether the painter is Frith himself or Marcus Stone. Maas based his claim on a diary entry in the Journals of Walter White (1898), dated 26 May 1862. 'Called on Marcus Stone, found him copying Frith's picture of Railway station - the picture for which the painter was paid 8,000 guineas [a figure current at the time]. I had a good look at it, and came to the conclusion 'twas not worth the money... Saw the picture taken down, locked in a case, and carted off to its exhibition-room in the Harmarket. In the copy M.S. is making, all the figures were outlined by an engraver's outliner who can do nothing else, he had (40 for his job. Marcus will have (300 for his, and has to make besides a second copy.'
As Maas points out, there is every reason why this account should be accurate. In 1862 White was Assistance Secretary to the Royal Society, and the diary shows that he kept a close eye on happenings at the Royal Academy. Moreover, as his brother William, who edited the diary, observed, 'he was accurate, painstaking, and receptive.' William too was 'accurate': 'the original handwriting of the diarist has been carefully copied and followed.'
As Maas also argues, the circumstances of Stone's career at this point make it likely that he would be the author of a high-quality copy. 'He was the son of Frank Stone, R.A., a successful genre painter and a friend of Frith. Marcus had painted from an early age. So quickly did he mature that in 1858, at the age of 18, he exhibited his first picture at the R.A. In that same year, however, his father died suddenly, leaving his son to fend for himself in a highly competitive world (The Life and Work of Marcus Stone,R.A. by A.L. Baldry, 1896, pp. 8-9). He exhibited again in 1859, 1860 and 1861. By 1862 therefore he was a highly competent and fully professional painter, but still in need of earning a good living and willing to resort 'to rude means for food'. Frith, on the other hand, was at the height of his reputation, his most famous pictures already behind him, and impatient to press on with other work, including the highly lucrative but onerous commission to paint the three London Street Scenes commissioned from him by Gambart in 1862 for (16,000 (although, the contract was not actually signed until 19 August)'.
Maas was fortunate in that, by a strange coincidence, a painting exhibited by Stone at the Royal Academy in 1862, indeed actually mentioned by White later in the diary entry quoted above, A Painter's First Work, was included in the same Sotheby's Belgravia sale as The Railway Station. Since Sotheby's obligingly hung them in juxtaposition, he was able to compare them closely. 'Under excellent lighting, and with a magnifying glass, I have scrutinised both pictures minutely and repeatedly, paying particular attention to materials, faces, hair, eyes, shoes and glass. The handling of the paint in both cases seems to me identical. Moreover, it also seems to me that the paintwork in The Railway Station under review does not resemble that which is normal to Frith. Both these pictures are painted with an almost completely flat surface; nor does this version bear any of Frith's highly individual calligraphy, so evident in the original, which is also painted with far more impasto.'
Maas went on to say that his belief that the picture was by Stone was 'further strengthened by a process of elimination against the other known versions, traced or untraced', which he proceeded to list. Finally he dealt with what to many is the most difficult problem of all, the picture's signature. 'How is it then that this version is clearly signed and dated 1862 by Firth? To understand this question properly one would need to understand the complexities of the mid-Victorian art market. I can only refer the reader to Gambart in which I have attempted to do this. I am confident that any reader of this work would soon realise that neither Frith nor Flatow were above deception and duplicity, particularly where they may be used as a means of making a lot of money in the quickest possible time. Even apart from this, it was not at all unusual for artists to employ other artists as studio assistants, particularly in the painting of replicas for engravers. The original picture had always, whenever possible, to be on public view, so as to obtain the maximum number of subscriptions to the engraving. Frith records his admiration of Flatow in this respect.
I believe that Stone was eminently capable of painting a version of The Railway Station and that Frith would consider that merely adding a signature and dating it were sufficent evidence that he had 'finished' the picture. Seen in the context of the period, such practice is not as sharp as it seems today.'
Sotheby's defended their attribution, pointing out that Maas's evidence was 'inconclusive' and stating their belief that the picture was 'if not entirely from the hand of Frith, at the very least finished and polished by the artist' (Daily Telegraph, 9 April 1980). Ultimately everyone must make up his own mind on the subject, but having examined the evidence, our view is that Maas is right. We did not have the advantage of comparing the picture with A Painter's First Work, but our memories are fresh of another early picture by Stone, Working and Shirking, exhibited at the R.A. in 1864, which we sold on 12 June 1992, lot 101, and the handling there seems to us very similar to that of The Railway Station. As Maas observes, Frith's touch, nervous and calligraphic, is very recognisable, and we fail to find it in our picture. Nor does this seem to bear evidence of 'finishing' and 'polishing' by Frith; the technique is remarkably consistent throughout, strongly suggesting that one hand, not two, was involved. Finally, there is the 'psychology' of the figures. Frith's types, both male and female, are highly characteristic, and it is true that many of the heads in our picture conform to them. It is, after all, a faithful copy of the original, probably made for the engraver. But no copyist can entirely sink his own personality, and the heads also bear evidence of another mind at work. This again, in our view, seems likely to be the painter of Working and Shirking, which dates from only two years after The Railway Station.
In fact, if the arguments are correct, it is precisely the interplay between the minds of Frith and Stone that lend the picture its fascination. While the conception and invention are Frith's, at his best period, the execution is by a young artist of great talent eager to excell with an important commission at an early stage of his career. It may well be felt that this makes the picture more interesting and desirable than if it had been a replica by Frith himself, whose later copies after early successes are often rather 'tired' in handling.