拍品专文
Strudwick was born in Clapham, and educated there at St Saviour's Grammar School. Refusing to contemplate a career in business, he studied art at South Kensington and the Royal Academy Schools, but was a singularly unsuccessful student. The only visitor to the RA Schools who encouraged him was the Scottish artist John Pettie (1839-1893), whose fluent brushwork, typical of the pupils of Robert Scott Lauder at the Trustee's Academy in Edinburgh, he emulated for a time. A picture illustrating the ballad of 'Auld Robin Gray', exhibited at the Royal Society of British Artists in 1873 and sold in these Rooms on 5 November 1993, lot 181, is an interesting record of this phase.
He finally found his feet in the mid 1870s when he acted as a temporary assistant first to J.R. Spencer Stanhope and then to Burne-Jones. Songs without Words, the picture with which he made his first and only appearance at the Royal Academy in 1876, shows his mature style formed, and it underwent little development from then on. Like so many of the younger 'aesthetic' painters, he exhibited at the Dudley Gallery, at the Grosvenor Gallery from its dramatic opening in 1877, and finally at the New Gallery, which inherited the mantle of the Grosvenor in 1888. Despite his inauspicious start, he enjoyed considerable success; as George Bernard Shaw was to write in an article on him in the Art Journal for April 1891, 'there is no such thing in existence as an unsold picture by Strudwick.' Songs without Words was bought by Lord Southesk, a Scottish peer with antiquarian interests. A Golden Thread (1885) was acquired for the Chantrey Bequest as part of the Royal Academy's current campaign to woo the Burne-Jones school; and two wealthy Liverpool collectors, William Imrie and George Holt, became long-standing patrons. Bernard Shaw's article was a further sign of success. Shaw's main thesis is that Strudwick's very incapacity as a student was the making of him as an artist; he quotes his comment that 'he could not draw - never could', and interprets this as 'a priceless gift', saving him from the empty virtuosity - 'execution for execution's sake' - which had become so common among young artists, especially those who had spent 'a couple of seasons in Paris.' Shaw also recorded that the artist had 'a fine sense of humour', something one would hardly guess from his pictures, and that he had never visited Italy, although critics often complained that his pictures were mere pastiches of early Italian work.
Strudwick lived all his adult life in Hammersmith or Bedford Park, not far from Burne-Jones and his fellow assistant in Burne-Jones's studio, T.M. Rooke. His daughter Ethel, born in 1880, was to become High Mistress of St. Paul's Girls' School, situated locally, in 1927. Strudwick was still contributing to the New Gallery in 1908, when it held its last but one exhibition, but he seems to have ceased painting about this time although he lived on until 1937. His Times obituary described him as 'a beautiful old man ... (and) a charming personality, exceedingly kind to young artists.'
The Ramparts of God's House is one of Strudwick's most elaborate works and particularly well known, having been illustrated and discussed in Shaw's article (the only major contemporary source) and in Percy Bate's book The English Pre-Raphaelite Painters, which ran to four editions between 1899 and 1910. Shaw describes the picture as follows: 'a man stands on the threshold of heaven, with his earthly shackles, newly broken, lying where they have just dropped, at his feet. The subject of the picture is not the incident of the man's arrival, but the emotion with which he finds himself in that place, and with which he is welcomed by the angels. The foremost of the two stepping out from the gate to meet him is indeed angelic in her ineffable tenderness and loveliness: the expression of this group, heightened by its relation to the man, is so vivid, so intense, so beautiful that one wonders how this sordid nineteenth century of ours could have such dreams, and realize them in its art. Transcendant expressiveness is the moving quality in all Strudwick's works; and persons who are fully sensitive to it will take almost as a matter of course the charm of the architecture, the bits of landscape, the elaborately beautiful foliage, the ornamental accessories of all sorts, which would distinguish them even in a gallery of early Italian painting.'
The picture was exhibited at the New Gallery in 1889, the Gallery's second summer show. 'Mr Strudwick's painting ...', wrote the art critic of The Times, 'is distinctly worthy of notice and praise; it is original in choice, and carried to a marvellous finish'; but F.G. Stephens, who had always had reservations about Strudwick's art, gave a more ambivalent assessment in the Athenaeum. 'Mr Strudwick's Ramparts of God's House, angels and souls redeemed from bonds and death meeting on a sort of terrace of that Italian Gothic architecture which is affected by a certain school of enthusiasts, and is consecrated to subjects of the kind, because the early Italian artists - without whose authority Mr Strudwick would not move a finger - employed it, is very pretty, carefully finished, and as smooth as stippling can make every fold of the pipe-like draperies, every feature, limb, and ornament, every element of the building. It is a Rossetti-ish version of a Mantegna or a Mocetto, with a few touches of Crivelli, without the virility of the Englishman or the simple and sincere inspiration of the Lombards or Venetians.'
In technique the work is typical, exemplifying Strudwick's tendency to see his pictures as elaborately crafted objects, rich in surface texture and linear pattern and glowing with jewel-like colours. There are many echoes of Burne-Jones. The man conforms to his male type, and the seated angels recall those in The Morning of the Resurrection (Tate Gallery), exhibited at the Grosvenor Gallery in 1886. The roofed structure in the centre suggests that Strudwick was aware of Burne-Jones's designs for Arthur in Avalon (Ponce, Puerto Rico), begun in 1881, and the angels seen through the colonnade take up an idea he had already employed in The Wise and Foolish Virgins, his Grosvenor picture of 1884 (repr. in Shaw's article, p.100), which in turn seems to have been inspired by Burne-Jones's early pen-and-ink treatment of the theme (private collection; repr. Burne-Jones, exh. Arts Council, 1975-6, cat. p.22). But Burne-Jonesian elements are obviously blended with others. Stephens's references to Mantegna and Crivelli seem relevant, and the censer in the centre foreground is rightly described by Shaw as 'not to be purchased in Wardour Street' since it is closely based on Martin Schongauer's well-known print.
The picture belonged to William Imrie (1837-1906), a partner in the Liverpool shipping firm of Ismay, Imrie & Co. (White Star Line), who was Strudwick's most important patron. His posthumous sale at Christie's on 28 June 1907 included six examples of the artist, and he also owned others; Bernard Shaw's article was entirely illustrated by pictures from the Imrie collection, and at least two of those reproduced - St Cecilia and The Wise and Foolish Virgins - did not appear in the 1907 sale. Nor did the pair of Angels which were offered in these Rooms on 5 March 1993, lot 109. Two of the most important works in the collection, Evensong (1898) and the large version of Passing Days (1904), were included in the Last Romantics exhibition at the Barbican in 1988 (nos. 46,47). Imrie also owned eight works by another Burne-Jones follower, Evelyn de Morgan (one of these, The Crown of Glory, was sold in these Rooms on 25 October 1991, lot 56), as well as examples of Burne-Jones himself, Rossetti, Leighton, Spencer Stanhope, Alma-Tadema and others.
Imrie was one of a number of Liverpool shipowners and merchants who formed collections of pictures at this period. Others were his partner T.H. Ismay (1837-1899), George Holt (1825-1896), and F.R. Leyland (died 1892), who patronized Rossetti, Burne-Jones, Whistler and others on such a princely scale, and created one of the greatest 'aesthetic' houses of the day at 49 Prince's Gate in London. As Edward Morris has observed, there was almost certainly a connection between Imrie and Holt, who also owned a Burne-Jones and bought a number of pictures by Strudwick in the 1890s. They lived near one another in Mossley Hill, a suburb of south Liverpool, and must have been acquainted. They were also both businessmen of a reclusive type, not too strenuously engaged in commerce or public life, which may help to explain why they responded to the contemplative art of Burne-Jones and his school. On the other hand we cannot assume that they were inspired by Leyland, despite his dazzling example of patronage in this field, since Leyland's collecting took place in London, and he himself was deeply unpopular in Liverpool. It is true that Imrie's partner, T.H. Ismay, employed Norman Shaw to build his country house, Dawpool, at Thurlaston in Cheshire, and that Shaw was responsible for creating Leyland's great interior in Prince's Gate; but even this link is weakened by the fact that Shaw had an extensive clientele in the Liverpool area.
We are grateful to Edward Morris, Curator of Fine Art at the Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool, and to Mr P.C. Withers, for their help in preparing this entry.
He finally found his feet in the mid 1870s when he acted as a temporary assistant first to J.R. Spencer Stanhope and then to Burne-Jones. Songs without Words, the picture with which he made his first and only appearance at the Royal Academy in 1876, shows his mature style formed, and it underwent little development from then on. Like so many of the younger 'aesthetic' painters, he exhibited at the Dudley Gallery, at the Grosvenor Gallery from its dramatic opening in 1877, and finally at the New Gallery, which inherited the mantle of the Grosvenor in 1888. Despite his inauspicious start, he enjoyed considerable success; as George Bernard Shaw was to write in an article on him in the Art Journal for April 1891, 'there is no such thing in existence as an unsold picture by Strudwick.' Songs without Words was bought by Lord Southesk, a Scottish peer with antiquarian interests. A Golden Thread (1885) was acquired for the Chantrey Bequest as part of the Royal Academy's current campaign to woo the Burne-Jones school; and two wealthy Liverpool collectors, William Imrie and George Holt, became long-standing patrons. Bernard Shaw's article was a further sign of success. Shaw's main thesis is that Strudwick's very incapacity as a student was the making of him as an artist; he quotes his comment that 'he could not draw - never could', and interprets this as 'a priceless gift', saving him from the empty virtuosity - 'execution for execution's sake' - which had become so common among young artists, especially those who had spent 'a couple of seasons in Paris.' Shaw also recorded that the artist had 'a fine sense of humour', something one would hardly guess from his pictures, and that he had never visited Italy, although critics often complained that his pictures were mere pastiches of early Italian work.
Strudwick lived all his adult life in Hammersmith or Bedford Park, not far from Burne-Jones and his fellow assistant in Burne-Jones's studio, T.M. Rooke. His daughter Ethel, born in 1880, was to become High Mistress of St. Paul's Girls' School, situated locally, in 1927. Strudwick was still contributing to the New Gallery in 1908, when it held its last but one exhibition, but he seems to have ceased painting about this time although he lived on until 1937. His Times obituary described him as 'a beautiful old man ... (and) a charming personality, exceedingly kind to young artists.'
The Ramparts of God's House is one of Strudwick's most elaborate works and particularly well known, having been illustrated and discussed in Shaw's article (the only major contemporary source) and in Percy Bate's book The English Pre-Raphaelite Painters, which ran to four editions between 1899 and 1910. Shaw describes the picture as follows: 'a man stands on the threshold of heaven, with his earthly shackles, newly broken, lying where they have just dropped, at his feet. The subject of the picture is not the incident of the man's arrival, but the emotion with which he finds himself in that place, and with which he is welcomed by the angels. The foremost of the two stepping out from the gate to meet him is indeed angelic in her ineffable tenderness and loveliness: the expression of this group, heightened by its relation to the man, is so vivid, so intense, so beautiful that one wonders how this sordid nineteenth century of ours could have such dreams, and realize them in its art. Transcendant expressiveness is the moving quality in all Strudwick's works; and persons who are fully sensitive to it will take almost as a matter of course the charm of the architecture, the bits of landscape, the elaborately beautiful foliage, the ornamental accessories of all sorts, which would distinguish them even in a gallery of early Italian painting.'
The picture was exhibited at the New Gallery in 1889, the Gallery's second summer show. 'Mr Strudwick's painting ...', wrote the art critic of The Times, 'is distinctly worthy of notice and praise; it is original in choice, and carried to a marvellous finish'; but F.G. Stephens, who had always had reservations about Strudwick's art, gave a more ambivalent assessment in the Athenaeum. 'Mr Strudwick's Ramparts of God's House, angels and souls redeemed from bonds and death meeting on a sort of terrace of that Italian Gothic architecture which is affected by a certain school of enthusiasts, and is consecrated to subjects of the kind, because the early Italian artists - without whose authority Mr Strudwick would not move a finger - employed it, is very pretty, carefully finished, and as smooth as stippling can make every fold of the pipe-like draperies, every feature, limb, and ornament, every element of the building. It is a Rossetti-ish version of a Mantegna or a Mocetto, with a few touches of Crivelli, without the virility of the Englishman or the simple and sincere inspiration of the Lombards or Venetians.'
In technique the work is typical, exemplifying Strudwick's tendency to see his pictures as elaborately crafted objects, rich in surface texture and linear pattern and glowing with jewel-like colours. There are many echoes of Burne-Jones. The man conforms to his male type, and the seated angels recall those in The Morning of the Resurrection (Tate Gallery), exhibited at the Grosvenor Gallery in 1886. The roofed structure in the centre suggests that Strudwick was aware of Burne-Jones's designs for Arthur in Avalon (Ponce, Puerto Rico), begun in 1881, and the angels seen through the colonnade take up an idea he had already employed in The Wise and Foolish Virgins, his Grosvenor picture of 1884 (repr. in Shaw's article, p.100), which in turn seems to have been inspired by Burne-Jones's early pen-and-ink treatment of the theme (private collection; repr. Burne-Jones, exh. Arts Council, 1975-6, cat. p.22). But Burne-Jonesian elements are obviously blended with others. Stephens's references to Mantegna and Crivelli seem relevant, and the censer in the centre foreground is rightly described by Shaw as 'not to be purchased in Wardour Street' since it is closely based on Martin Schongauer's well-known print.
The picture belonged to William Imrie (1837-1906), a partner in the Liverpool shipping firm of Ismay, Imrie & Co. (White Star Line), who was Strudwick's most important patron. His posthumous sale at Christie's on 28 June 1907 included six examples of the artist, and he also owned others; Bernard Shaw's article was entirely illustrated by pictures from the Imrie collection, and at least two of those reproduced - St Cecilia and The Wise and Foolish Virgins - did not appear in the 1907 sale. Nor did the pair of Angels which were offered in these Rooms on 5 March 1993, lot 109. Two of the most important works in the collection, Evensong (1898) and the large version of Passing Days (1904), were included in the Last Romantics exhibition at the Barbican in 1988 (nos. 46,47). Imrie also owned eight works by another Burne-Jones follower, Evelyn de Morgan (one of these, The Crown of Glory, was sold in these Rooms on 25 October 1991, lot 56), as well as examples of Burne-Jones himself, Rossetti, Leighton, Spencer Stanhope, Alma-Tadema and others.
Imrie was one of a number of Liverpool shipowners and merchants who formed collections of pictures at this period. Others were his partner T.H. Ismay (1837-1899), George Holt (1825-1896), and F.R. Leyland (died 1892), who patronized Rossetti, Burne-Jones, Whistler and others on such a princely scale, and created one of the greatest 'aesthetic' houses of the day at 49 Prince's Gate in London. As Edward Morris has observed, there was almost certainly a connection between Imrie and Holt, who also owned a Burne-Jones and bought a number of pictures by Strudwick in the 1890s. They lived near one another in Mossley Hill, a suburb of south Liverpool, and must have been acquainted. They were also both businessmen of a reclusive type, not too strenuously engaged in commerce or public life, which may help to explain why they responded to the contemplative art of Burne-Jones and his school. On the other hand we cannot assume that they were inspired by Leyland, despite his dazzling example of patronage in this field, since Leyland's collecting took place in London, and he himself was deeply unpopular in Liverpool. It is true that Imrie's partner, T.H. Ismay, employed Norman Shaw to build his country house, Dawpool, at Thurlaston in Cheshire, and that Shaw was responsible for creating Leyland's great interior in Prince's Gate; but even this link is weakened by the fact that Shaw had an extensive clientele in the Liverpool area.
We are grateful to Edward Morris, Curator of Fine Art at the Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool, and to Mr P.C. Withers, for their help in preparing this entry.