Punch: Punch (76.1879)

268

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI

[June 14, 1879.

THE GAY GROSVENOR GALLERY GUIDE.

" mi admirari's all the Art I know."

Preliminary and Retrospective Address.—The last time I visited
the Arrangement in Bond Street I made use of these memorable
words, "Never again with you, Robin!" But though it is to be
very certainly inferred from this, that, " with llobin I would not go
again," yet, on the other hand, I would not have it supposed for one
moment, that if I did not go with Robin, I should therefore stay
away altogether. "Never again, with you, Robin," but "Once
again without you, Robin," just to see how this Day-Nursery of
Art—the Bond Street Creche—is getting on.

Let us mount to the Gallery; I generally prefer the Stalls, but as
there is no choice at the Grosvenor, let us go up to the Gallery, and
be as Gods. A shilling is a fair price for a Gallery. I grumble not.
Sixpence is reasonable for a Catalogue, but you who read this will
do well to purchase Mr. Henry Blackburn's Grosvenor Notes,
whose illustrations and descriptions are so truthful as to save
" Friends at a distance " the trouble of visiting the Gallery itself.

One Word more.—How to form an unbiassed judgment on the
merits of a picture. Never look at the name of the Artist. Guess
what the picture is intended to mean. If you guess correctly, either
it is "bully for the picture" or " bully for you;" i.e., either you
are, like Mr. Eccles in Caste, " a very clever person," or the paint-
ing is a very clever picture. If you are both clever, so much the
better.

On this plan I have proceeded. Of course there is no mistaking
the notes of the true Whistler. There are some imitation Whist-
lers—mere halfpenny Whistlers, which may puzzle you for less than
a moment. Nor could there be any doubt about the brilliant lights
of the still Unburnt Jones — the Burne to which no traveller
returns.

At the top of the Staircase :—

_ No. 193. Right of entrance. I presume that, having paid, your
right of entrance is the same as mine; therefore, you '11 find the
icture at once. It represents, I should say, a Foreigner's idea of a
me Day near London Bridge. Bateaux d vapeur—and plenty of
vapeur. This is a Nocturne in blue and gold—including the frame
—by our own J. M. Whistler. Never desert your colours—such as
they are. Here's your own fun in a fog. Bless you, J. M. W. !
and may you go on fogging away until you are an old fog-ie yourself,
and then retire

" Where the Smudgers cease from smudging,
And the Whistlers are at rest."

No. 200. Left hand of entrance. Bathing in Hard Water.
Alfred Morgan.

No. 205. Deluded Shi •impers; or, Harlequin mind your own
Business, and don't put all your Eggs in one Basket. Dark Scene
from a Serious Pantomime. The Shrimpers have been buying eggs
instead of catching shrimps, and returning across the rocks on the
sands, the baskets have broken, the eggs have cracked, and the yolks
have been spilt all about,—admirably depicted,—on the right hand
of the picture. Particularly notice the spilt yolks. In the distance
is a small party, probably out for a pic-nic, on whom the stupid

Shrimpers had depended for custom. The pic-nic party, being
rather afraid of the weather, take no notice of the Shrimpers, who
stand disconsolate. After this, "Will it surprise you" to hear
that the subject is A Highland Funeral, painted by D. Murray ?
Pooh! not a bit of it! Mr. Murray is having a lark with us.
Murray come up !

No. 208. Horses—after Rosa Bonheur. Rosa Bonheur very
much in front, however. L. Cattermole calls it Helter-skelter.

No. 211. Violets. Carlo Pellegrini. She's blushing, Carlo,
my boy! And so she ought to colour up to her eyes after having
painted her lips like that. The bold, forward minx! She's dyed
her hair, too, and not yet got it back to its right colour. So young
and so—foolish ! But when you painted her I suppose you were
thinking of Vanity Fair. You 're not ashamed of this young lady,
are you P No, of course not. Then why keep her so dark ? I trust,
Signor Carlo, that already some one has said,

" Buy, 0 let's!
Vi-o-lets! "

But do be a little cheerful next time. You haven't used up all your
colours. There's more where they came from. Don't take the shine
out of yourself in this way. Take it out of somebody else. Up you
go. " Montez, Carlo ! " as we say at Monaco.

Nos. 162, 163, 164, 165. Panels for decoration, called Morning,
Noontide, Evening, and Night, which might as well be Spring,
Summer, Autumn, and Winter, or Panels for a Jury, or whatever
you like, my little dear. Notice the attitude of the gentleman in
Summer, or Noontide ; also, in the same panel, the position of the
Sun. The unfortunate man is "getting it hot." He is, however,
safe from a sunstroke, I imagine, which generally lights on the cra-
nium—eh, Mr. Walter Crane-ium ?

No. 166 is the work of E. B. J. Eminent Burne-Jones. His
Eminence has given us a heavy angel, grey-haired and quite past
work, curiously formed out of such " metal more attractive " as that
used for organ-pipes, while the upper part of her wings (or his
wings) are fashioned out of ripe artichoke leaves. Being unable to
support herself, or himself, on air, the angel has descended, like a
collapsed balloon, and been providentially caught in a rum shrub,
from which perilous position she, or he, is apparently utterly help-
less to extricate herself, or himself, without assistance.

How devotionally this subject ought to have been treated is
evident from what the Guide tells us it is intended to represent.
Do what you like with your Pygmalions, Galateas, and Yenuses, but
don't let the Eminent B. J. rush in where even his own artichoked-
winged angel would fear to tread. His Eminence has got a Better
Angel than this—somewhere at hand. May he inspire him !

Nos. 167, 168, 169, 170. All by E. Burne-Jones. The Story of
Pygmalion ; or, How he Chiselled a Woman out of Something.

The Eminent B. J. puts it thus :—

No. 167. The Heart Desires.

No. 168. The Hand Refrains.

No. 169. The Godhead Fires.

Then you expect that Yenus (she is the Godhead and shoulders, &c.)
having fired, has made a hit, like Dr. Carver at the Crystal
Palace—(Pygmalion's a Carver, too, by the way)—but no, we finish
with

No. 170. The Soul Attains.

There might be—this is merely a suggestion—a classical series,
showing how Jones became Burne-Jones. Thus—
No. 167. More Jones Desires.
No. 168. He Thinks, Doubts, Groans.
No. 169. The Godhead Fires,—
No. 170. Result—Burn Jones !

This will do for the Gallery next year, and "do for it" very
effectually.

No. 145. "Bother that dog! He's strayed again!" said the
Lady in a classic dress, looking over her shoulder for her pet, as she
walked along the yellow floor, with a dark blue dado behind her.
Stop ! isn't it the sea-shore ? and isn't that the sea ? and isn't it
Dido looking out for ^Eneas ? Or, if it is, why not Dido in her
palace, on the yellow floor, with the blue wall behind ?—Dido and
Dado ! The picture, however, is meant to represent Ariadne, not
" The-sceo," but " By the sea, oh," and is the work of

Sir Coutts Lindsay, Bart,,
Who goes in for High Art.

No. 141. " The Morning After." Cecil Lawson. I should
think so. "The Morning After," indeed! Yes, and what a head-
ache poor Mr. Cecil Lawson must have had, and how everything
was whirling and whizzling, and how he said to himself that he
would never again paint the morning after, but always do it the
night before. An arrangement in " B. and S." Moral, for a rising
Artist, be an early rising and early bedding Artist, for he who makes
a rule—

Early to bed, and early to rise,
Never paints bothering headachy skies.