DOI chapter:
Chapter V: Our Friendship
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.62482#0193
OUR FRIENDSHIP 89
Dene which was, as a mere portrait of her, more like than
any Leighton ever achieved. It was marvellous how, in
the time, he reproduced in paint the extraordinarily subtle
and exceptional texture and colour of her complexion.
He told me that, though he might develope a design,
he never altered it. In bis work his memory never failed
him. He might leave a canvass untouched for years, but the
intention and design of the picture, as first conceived, was
never altered. He could always go back on it, and pick
it up just where he left it. Also with a subject imagined
and thought out but not put on canvass. Without any
tangible record, it was ever there somewhere in his brain,
ready to be begun. He might change the name of a picture,
which in many cases he did, but the pictorial creation, he
told me, ever remained as he had at first conceived it.
In 1880 he discussed with us the necessity of building
a gallery to hold all the pictures, finished and unfinished,
which were piled in his studio, one upon another. I most
strongly advised him to do so. He could count on his five
fingers, he said, the pictures, other than portraits, which he
had sold, and even those were sold to personal friends for
a nominal price. His strong conviction was that no wide
public would ever care for his subject pictures, much less
buy them ; but he wished them to be seen properly by any
who might, like ourselves, sympathise with his aims. Mr.
George Aitcheson, R.A., undertook the building of the
gallery, Mr. Cockerell, the architect who had built Watts’
house, having died. Before it was commenced, how’ever, a
hitch occurred which made Watts nervous. He feared he
might have to relinquish the idea. Mr. Barrington told
him he thought he could arrange it for him, more especially as
we were the only neighbours who could have had any occasion
to object, as the gallery built out some of our air space; but
Dene which was, as a mere portrait of her, more like than
any Leighton ever achieved. It was marvellous how, in
the time, he reproduced in paint the extraordinarily subtle
and exceptional texture and colour of her complexion.
He told me that, though he might develope a design,
he never altered it. In bis work his memory never failed
him. He might leave a canvass untouched for years, but the
intention and design of the picture, as first conceived, was
never altered. He could always go back on it, and pick
it up just where he left it. Also with a subject imagined
and thought out but not put on canvass. Without any
tangible record, it was ever there somewhere in his brain,
ready to be begun. He might change the name of a picture,
which in many cases he did, but the pictorial creation, he
told me, ever remained as he had at first conceived it.
In 1880 he discussed with us the necessity of building
a gallery to hold all the pictures, finished and unfinished,
which were piled in his studio, one upon another. I most
strongly advised him to do so. He could count on his five
fingers, he said, the pictures, other than portraits, which he
had sold, and even those were sold to personal friends for
a nominal price. His strong conviction was that no wide
public would ever care for his subject pictures, much less
buy them ; but he wished them to be seen properly by any
who might, like ourselves, sympathise with his aims. Mr.
George Aitcheson, R.A., undertook the building of the
gallery, Mr. Cockerell, the architect who had built Watts’
house, having died. Before it was commenced, how’ever, a
hitch occurred which made Watts nervous. He feared he
might have to relinquish the idea. Mr. Barrington told
him he thought he could arrange it for him, more especially as
we were the only neighbours who could have had any occasion
to object, as the gallery built out some of our air space; but