DOI issue:
No. 263 (February 1915)
DOI article:Furst, Herbert E.: The paintings of Leonard Campbell Taylor
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.21212#0015
The Paintings of Leonard Campbell Taylor
engender his love for the crinoline period, though
he imagines his own ladies in a rather earlier
decade. But he was certainly amongst the first of
the younger men to resuscitate and glorify the
crinoline. I say glorify: I am sure our grand-
mothers or great-grandmothers never did look quite
as charming as our artist would have us believe.
Artist that he is, he selects all the quaint charm of
the fashion and leaves its absurdities to imagina-
tion. The picture which made his name was
The Rehearsal,* a quintet of two ladies and three
gentlemen in the costumes of his favourite period.
Taylor has created a type of young womanhood
entirely his own ; assuredly neither golf nor even
hockey has ever strengthened the muscles of these
young ladies, nor stronger fare than Mrs. Hemans
ever nurtured their minds. In point of fact they
must have found their male companions somewhat
disconcertingly “ foreign.” The person who stood
for the violinist, by the by, was a well-known
character in the neigh-
bourhood of Leicester
Square, a “fallen star” in
a weather-worn coat, who is
here portrayed for a more
appreciative posterity.
And the ’cellist with the
white hair and ruddy com-
plexion and portly form—
who, in Bohemia, remem-
bers him not in his little
Soho restaurant where one
might dine for eighteen-
pence in company of illus-
trious persons, celebrities
such as Mr. Walter Sickert,
the more enjoyable be-
cause of the ancK io sono
elation their presence in-
spired? The future
chronicler will relish, no
doubt, this little excursion
when reporting our artist’s
“ life.” Manifestly Taylor
had Whistler in his mind
when he conceived this
subject. The key is
Whistler’s, so is the cur-
tain, and perhaps the
white symphony of the
frocks. The Vermeer
wall with the splash of the
* ReproducedinTHEStudio,
June 1907, p. 35. “persuasion” by l. Campbell taylor
De Hooch sunlight reminds one of the earlier
Dutch masters. One does not, of course, intend
to suggest that Taylor consciously set about to
imitate the older masters, but it is part of the
artist’s impressionable nature to assimilate in
some form the achievements of others, and there
is not one great master in all the history of art who
has not built on such foundations. This Rehearsal
is charming in subject, composition, and handling ;
it charmed the Royal Academy public and the
Chantrey Trustees, who delivered it, perhaps re-
gretfully, into that mausoleum of disputed repu-
tations, the Tate Gallery. Mr. Taylor is partly
responsible for this fate of his picture—its size
predestined it for such an institution. Painted on
the scale of his Music Room, it would have lost
nothing of its artistic value—I am not sure that it
would not have gained—but the Chantrey Trustees
would then most likely have overlooked it, like
the public who generally seem to associate great-
9
engender his love for the crinoline period, though
he imagines his own ladies in a rather earlier
decade. But he was certainly amongst the first of
the younger men to resuscitate and glorify the
crinoline. I say glorify: I am sure our grand-
mothers or great-grandmothers never did look quite
as charming as our artist would have us believe.
Artist that he is, he selects all the quaint charm of
the fashion and leaves its absurdities to imagina-
tion. The picture which made his name was
The Rehearsal,* a quintet of two ladies and three
gentlemen in the costumes of his favourite period.
Taylor has created a type of young womanhood
entirely his own ; assuredly neither golf nor even
hockey has ever strengthened the muscles of these
young ladies, nor stronger fare than Mrs. Hemans
ever nurtured their minds. In point of fact they
must have found their male companions somewhat
disconcertingly “ foreign.” The person who stood
for the violinist, by the by, was a well-known
character in the neigh-
bourhood of Leicester
Square, a “fallen star” in
a weather-worn coat, who is
here portrayed for a more
appreciative posterity.
And the ’cellist with the
white hair and ruddy com-
plexion and portly form—
who, in Bohemia, remem-
bers him not in his little
Soho restaurant where one
might dine for eighteen-
pence in company of illus-
trious persons, celebrities
such as Mr. Walter Sickert,
the more enjoyable be-
cause of the ancK io sono
elation their presence in-
spired? The future
chronicler will relish, no
doubt, this little excursion
when reporting our artist’s
“ life.” Manifestly Taylor
had Whistler in his mind
when he conceived this
subject. The key is
Whistler’s, so is the cur-
tain, and perhaps the
white symphony of the
frocks. The Vermeer
wall with the splash of the
* ReproducedinTHEStudio,
June 1907, p. 35. “persuasion” by l. Campbell taylor
De Hooch sunlight reminds one of the earlier
Dutch masters. One does not, of course, intend
to suggest that Taylor consciously set about to
imitate the older masters, but it is part of the
artist’s impressionable nature to assimilate in
some form the achievements of others, and there
is not one great master in all the history of art who
has not built on such foundations. This Rehearsal
is charming in subject, composition, and handling ;
it charmed the Royal Academy public and the
Chantrey Trustees, who delivered it, perhaps re-
gretfully, into that mausoleum of disputed repu-
tations, the Tate Gallery. Mr. Taylor is partly
responsible for this fate of his picture—its size
predestined it for such an institution. Painted on
the scale of his Music Room, it would have lost
nothing of its artistic value—I am not sure that it
would not have gained—but the Chantrey Trustees
would then most likely have overlooked it, like
the public who generally seem to associate great-
9