International studio (52.1914)

THE STUDIO

THE SENEFELDER CLUB AND
THE REVIVAL OF ARTISTIC
LITHOGRAPHY.
In the revival of artistic lithography, the
Senefelder Club has played no small part—yet the
Club has grown out of the revival—the revival is
not due to it. But like other movements, when the
time came, the Senefelder Club was ready, spring-
ing full-born from the lithography of the past, full
of the traditions of the past—and full too of the life
of the present.
But far more is due to the encouragement given
to artistic lithography by the Editor of The Studio
from the very first number, in which was a print by
R. W. Macbeth, and this was followed by a long
series—a series which continued for many years—
of distinguished drawings in lithography made by
artists of distinction, prominent among whom was
Whistler, and Whistler practised lithography not as
so many have done, because they thought it the
thing, but because he found it a sympathetic, respon-
sive medium. His lithographs were always appre-
ciated by the few but their reception by the many
was mixed. “ Piccadilly,” in which by lithography
he hoped to appeal to the public, collapsed almost
with the first print. True, “The Whirlwind,” a now
forgotten paper, carried on a cyclonic existence at
the price of a penny a number for some months,
but even the fact that Whistler contributed three
lithographs to it could not keep it alive though his
prints sold out the numbers containing them, mainly
to careful collectors, who have since unloaded their
copies at many hundred per cent, profit—as your
collector sometimes does. Whistler’s hope that he
could appeal to the people through lithography, and
by cheap publications, was rudely dispelled, and he
soon found that those who collected his lithographs
were the same as those who treasured his etchings,
and that though lithographs could be, like etchings,
printed in unlimited numbers, the people cared
nothing for them and when so printed the collector of
the timewould not have them. To stop or discourage
this cheapening, lowering, of lithographs is one of
the aims of the Senefelder Club. But in those far-
away days there was a feeling for art among artists,
and there were two or three artists-—Whistler,
Keene, Beardsley—artists who were something
more than shopkeepers running swell shops called
LII. No. 205.—March 1914

studios. They wanted to publish their works, and
lithography was in the air, and lithographs appeared
month after month in The Studio, “ The Art
Journal,” “The Magazine of Art,” “The Albemarle,”
“The Pageant,” “The Savoy.” Even the names of
most of these publications are forgotten, all save The
Studio are dead. Then came the centenary of litho-
graphy and the great exhibitions in London at South
Kensington, in Paris, and in New York at the Grolier
Club. The painters, who are always all there,
rushed in, made their one lithograph at the bidding
of F. Goulding and the Academy, and were sure it
would bring them fortune and maybe fame, which
did not so much matter, but as neither one nor the
other arrived at once, they abandoned lithography
immediately; it did not pay—pay, pay, pay, is the
cry of the painter in the land ; even the Academy,
which had endured lithography, spurned it, and
critics ignored it, or, in their ignorance, described
it as a pleasing fashion of reproduction. Dealers
mostly wrould have nothing to do with it—it was
only lithography, a commercial process, oblivious
of the fact that their pockets were filled by the
fabrications of the most commercial etchers. Port-
folios were issued, posters were made, books were
illustrated by lithography. A few artists, following
Whistler—Legros, Shannon, Thomson, and Rothen-
stein—took it up, some even getting presses and
doing their own printing, but scarce any one wanted
their prints. Neither the people nor the prophets
would have lithography, the presses were abandoned
and the prints remained in the artists’ portfolios or
the cabinets of the dealers.
There were other and more vital reasons why the
revival of artistic lithography was so long in coming :
mystery and expense drove most artists from it. I
doubt if it will be believed, but it is a fact, that until
Whistler had some of his lithographs printed in
Paris he saw nothing of etching or printing them ;
he made a drawing either on stone or paper, handed
it to the printer and then he knew nothing more—
and was not allowed to see anything more—till he
got a proof of it; at least, this was the case during
many years. In one shop where he worked there
was a closed door which opened to none but the
proprietor and the printer, never to the artist. He
succeeded in lithography, but it was because he
triumphed over this secrecy and mystery: he
succeeded despite it—most others succumbed to it.
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