A Valuable Tip

1895

Meissonier lived and died at Poissy. A few years before the downfall of the empire Princess Mathilda, who was a great admirer of the artist, paid a visit to his studio; Meissonior pressed her to stay to dinner. The princess would no doubt have gladly accepted the invitation, but she was anxious to get back early to Paris, and the 8:30 express did not stop at Poissy.

"Is that all?" said Meissonier. "I will put that right."

And he walked down to the station, where he obtained authority to stop the express. Next day he went to thank the station master and promised him a study. Some time later the station master reminded the artist of his promise.

"The fact is, I'm at a loss for a subject."

"Well, then, paint my portrait."

And thus it came to pass that the Poissy station master obtained a picture which at the present day is worth from 12,000 to 15,000 francs. — Journal de Rouen.


Trivia

The Hindoo maidens have a feast of lamps, very prettily alluded to by Moore in "Lalla Rookh." A lighted lamp is set adrift on the Ganges, and from its fate is foretold that of the owner.

French architects during the reign of Henry IV expected to receive 1 per cent of the cost of the houses they erected.

And a Deep Silence Followed

1895

"Well, sir," said the vivacious lady to the artist who was painting her portrait, "you haven't finished already, have you? Or has the hour expired?"
"Neither, madam," replied the artist. "I am waiting for an opportunity of seeing how your chin looks in repose." — Chicago Tribune.


Adirondack

Adirondack was a nickname applied by the Iroquois Indians to their enemies, the Algonquins. The name means "people who eat tree bark." The territory now known as the Adirondacks was called by the Indians Coughsarage, "the Dismal Wilderness."

Tale of a Painting by Schenck

1895

A wealthy American bought for $8,000 a picture the history of which is impressive. This picture, signed Schenck, represents asses deliberating gravely around a cloth covered table. It was exhibited at the Salon, at the close of the empire. The Figaro gave to it an appreciative article, in which it was insinuated that the painter doubtless had the intention of representing the privy council of the emperor. This information caused a scandal and prevented Princess Mathilde from buying the picture, as was her intention.

A few years later the canvas was exhibited at Munich. The empress of Austria wished to buy it. Her guide, Baron Ranberg, who was a friend of Schenck, told her the peculiar circumstance that had prevented the purchase of the work by Princess Mathilde. The empress said, "I cannot buy a picture which contains a political allusion." — Echo de Paris.

Novel Experiment In Art

1901

Tony Robert Fleury Paints Portraits In Three Colors.

Tony Robert Fleury is making some curious experiments in three color portraits, and the results have astonished the Paris art world. They are interesting not only from their originality and harmonious combinations, but for the variety obtained through limited resources. M. Fleury said to the New York Journal correspondent:

"The idea of attempting portraits painted in the three mother colors only was suggested to me by the lines of Pliny remarking on the fact that red, blue and yellow, which are the base of all hues in the prism, are also the fundamental colors of nature.

"It occurred to me to see how far this could be carried in portraiture, since no form of art requires a greater scale of tones to render life. I have now executed five portraits in this way, and in no two are the combinations alike. For these experiments I was compelled to confine myself to half size figures. In a large canvas so treated predetermined method would have been necessary, and method is impossible in art."

Girl Artist Captures Intruder in Cabin

1919

Finds Queer Young Man Attired in Her Pet Toggery.

PITTSBURGH, Pennysylvania — At the point of a revolver Miss Gertrude Zeigler, an artist and decorator residing in a rustic log cabin in the woods, near West View, marched a male intruder whom she discovered in her home, over a mile through the snow to the office of Herman P. Brandt, justice of the peace of Perrysville.

Miss Zeigler discovered the young man, Ralph Rutledge, 21 years old, of Mount Pleasant, Pa., busy preparing his breakfast.

Rutledge had eaten of the best while in the Zeigler home and when caught was attired in a ladies' golf sweater, silk hose and a pair of pink pumps belonging to Miss Zeigler.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Jan. 3, 1920, p. 8.

The Boy Who Learned the Way

1901

He was very young — about 13 — this boy who spent most of his time in the studios watching the artists draw and paint and wishing he could do the same.

"What kind of pencils do you use?" he said one day, and they gave him one of the kind. That night he tried to make a figure he had seen one of the artists draw. It seemed so easy. But he could not do the same kind of work.

"Perhaps I haven't the right kind of paper," he reasoned. "I will get a piece tomorrow." Even the right kind of paper did not help him any.

"I need a studio and an easel," was his next conclusion. "I have the desire; surely all I need now are the necessary surroundings."

A few years of impatient waiting passed before he secured the "necessary surroundings," and when he had them all and still found it impossible to draw the truth dawned upon him.

"I know what is wrong," he cried, throwing down his pencil. "I know nothing of the principles of art. I must learn them first."

He was still young when his name as a great painter was known on two continents. He had learned the "principle." A bit of brown paper and a burned match would then enable him to draw as easily as all the art essentials. — Ann Partlan in Success.

Madame Tussaud and Mrs. Wright

1904

This is the centennial year of Madame Tussaud's waxworks, and what faithful tourist in London has not visited that famous show?

The London newspapers duly commemorate its founder, whose life was indeed of singular interest. Born Marie Curtius, the daughter of a Swiss clergyman, she was left a widow while yet in her teens, and went to Paris to assist her uncle in his studio, where he modeled in wax the celebrities of the day, among them Rousseau, Diderot, Voltaire, Mirabeau, and our own Doctor Franklin and Paul Jones. With all these great men she became well acquainted, and some she modeled, for she soon developed marvelous skill. She gave lessons in her art to the king's sister, who soon became so fond of her that she removed her to court, and formally engaged her as a companion.

Then suddenly came the outbreak of the French Revolution. King, queen and nobles were mowed down by the guillotine, and the young artist passed from directing the dainty fingers of Madame Elizabeth to the dreadful task, not to be declined without peril, of modeling the severed heads of the courtiers and great ladies she had known in happier times, as well as those of the fallen chiefs of the Terror — Danton, Marat and Robespierre.

Once she herself fell under suspicion, and was thrown into prison, where she was a fellow captive of the future Empress Josephine. This comradeship secured her many favors when freedom and security came with the rise of Napoleon; but her memories of Paris were too terrible and she removed to London, where she established her waxworks and at once achieved a brilliant success. She lived to the age of ninety, alert, interesting and full of reminiscence to the last.

She was by no means the first woman to succeed as a modeler in wax, and her most notable predecessor in London was an American, Patience Wright, about whom, indeed, Madame Tussaud must have heard many stories from Doctor Franklin, who had been her good friend for many years. Mrs. Wright was a Quakeress, but her peace principles could not restrain a combative tongue when she heard her native land abused, and she roundly lectured her noble and royal customers on their treatment of her "dear America." She did not even spare the king and queen, who had been her frequent and most friendly patrons, good-naturedly accepting the Quaker plainness with which she addressed them simply as "George" and "Charlotte." But scolding was another matter. She lost custom, and planned a removal to Paris. Franklin, whose son was then his secretary, wrote her a letter in which he humorously embodied the young man's fanciful picture of her coming transit with her figures:

"He supposes that you must put them into post-chaises, two and two, which will make a long train upon the road and will be a very expensive conveyance; but as they will eat nothing at the inns, you may the better afford it. When they come to Dover, he is sure they are so like life and nature that the master of the packet will not receive them on board without passes, which you will do well, therefore, to take out, before you leave London, from the secretary's office, where they will cost you only the modest price of two guineas and sixpence each, which you will pay without grumbling, because you are sure the money will never be employed against your country."

How Landseer Worked

1904

The man who can accomplish work at a dash is probably the one who has spent patient years in preparation for it. An enthusiastic English sportsman, Mr. Wells, of Redleaf, Penshurst, had engaged Landseer to paint the portrait of his favorite dog. But the artist was one of those who put off their duties as long as possible, and one day Wells, who had been growing more and more impatient, showed his feeling by some sharp expression.

"I know I have behaved shamefully," said Landseer, "but I will come down next Thursday and stay till Monday, and the picture shall be done before I leave."

On Thursday he arrived, just in time to dress for dinner, and his first remark was, "Oh, your man tells me you are going to drag the great pond to-morrow! Hurrah! I am just in time. That is a subject I have often meant to paint, and I shall get any number of sketches done."

This was an unpleasing announcement; but the host bore it. Landseer did a capital day's work for himself, and the next morning, when he came down to breakfast, he said:

"Mr. Wells, I hear you are going to shoot to-day, I've been looking forward to that for a year or two." So it went on until Sunday morning, and then Wells, who was very particular about seeing his guests at the early service, said to Landseer:

"I suppose you are going to church?"

"I don't feel like going," said Landseer. "I think you must excuse me."

"Oh," said Wells, in a blaze, "do just as you think best! You know well enough that this is liberty hall — for you, at all events."

"Thank you," said Landseer. "And I am going to ask you to let me keep Charles Mathews with me, to amuse me."

Wells vouchsafed no answer, and away the people went, leaving these two to their own devices. The minute the house was clear they hurried to another room, which Landseer had specially arranged for the purpose. The head gamekeeper was there, holding the dog, and Mathews assisted when there was need, at the same time amusing Landseer. When the party returned from church the picture was painted, finished, and framed on the wall. Written on the trunk of a tree in the background were the words: "Painted at Redleaf in two hours and a half."

Forty Ideal Age for Women

1920

English Artist Sweeps Away Time-Honored Ideas Having to Do With Spinsterhood

There is a flurry among English spinsters. A prominent artist has come to the conclusion that a girl of forty should be man's ideal. He sweeps away all the time-honored rubbish about spinsters at the age of forty being mostly interested in eats and canaries. Here is what he has to say about the new old girl.

"The ideal age for a woman from the viewpoint of the man who studies the sex as an artist is forty years. The woman of forty is at the perfection of her beauty and has attained a settled mentality which she did not possess as a girl in her teens, or as a young woman in her twenties and thirties. At forty she is an ideal companion, pleasantly matured, tolerant and understanding. Only the ignoramuses in life find joy in the society of young girls or undeveloped women."

During the war and since many women of the so-called "sweet-and-forty" age got married, a considerable number of them widows. This has led to frequent lamentations by younger women that, with the huge number of unmarried beauties about, it is unpatriotic for Cupid to show such favoritism for widows and spinsters.

Joys of a Collector

1907

Picking Up a Valuable Painting at an Auction Sale

Collecting will always have its romances. I know of one that occurred at the sale at Christie's of the effects of the late Sir Henry Irving. Some one I knew had been to see the collection before the sale. He came across a portrait with which he was familiar because he had seen it thirty years before.

On consulting his catalogue he discovered that the portrait was described as being that of a man unknown, and, further, the artist was also unknown. Now, he knew that the portrait was that of a famous actor by a famous English painter. He longed to buy it, but decided that it would go at too high a price. He went to the auction with very little hope. The Whistler and the Sargent were sold, and then it was the turn of this picture. Nobody recognized it. Finally he had to start the bidding himself, and this he did. Only one man bid against him, but he soon stopped, discouraged, and then the picture was knocked down to the man who had never expected to get it.

He hurried to the desk to pay the small amount and to carry off his prize. "Do you happen to know anything about that portrait?" the auctioneer asked him as a porter took it down to a cab. "I know it very well," said the new owner, conscious that it was now safely his property. "It is a portrait of Buckstone, the actor, by Daniel Maclise. There is an engraving of it in the Maclise portrait gallery." — Mrs. John Lane in Pearson's Magazine.

Uses of the Phonograph — Backmasking, Mashups Foretold In 1878

1878

Uses of the Phonograph.

For public uses we shall have galleries where phonograph sheets will be preserved as photographs and books now are. The utterances of great speakers and singers will there be kept for a thousand years. In these galleries spoken languages will be preserved from century to century, with all the peculiarities of pronunciation, dialect, or brogue. As we go now to see the stereopticon, we shall go to public halls to hear these treasures of speech and song brought out and reproduced as loud, or louder, than when first spoken or sung by the truly great ones of earth. Certainly, within a dozen years, some of the great singers will be induced to sing into the ear of the phonograph, and the electrotyped cylinders thence obtained will be put into the hand-organs of the streets, and we shall hear the actual voice of Christine Nilsson or Miss Cary ground out at every corner.

In public exhibitions, also, we shall have reproductions of the sounds of nature, and of noises familiar and unfamiliar. Nothing will be easier than to catch the sounds of the waves on the beach, the roar of Niagara, the discords of the streets, the noises of animals, the puffing and rush of the railroad train, the rolling of thunder, or even the tumult of a battle.

When popular airs are sung into the phonograph, and the notes are then reproduced in reverse order, very curious and beautiful musical effects are sometimes produced, having no apparent resemblance to those contained in their originals. The instrument may thus be used as a sort of musical kaleidoscope, by means of which an infinite variety of new combinations may be produced from the musical compositions now in existence.

The speaking phonograph, will, doubtless, be applied to bell-punches, clocks, complaint boxes in public conveyances and to toys of all kinds. It will supersede the short-hand writer in taking letters by dictation and in taking testimony before referees. Phonographic letters will be sent by mail, the foil being wound on paper cylinders of the size of a finger. It will recite poems in the voice of the author, and reproduce the speeches of celebrated orators. Dramas will be produced in which all the parts will be "well spoken — with good accent, and good discretion;" the original matrice being prepared on one machine provided with a rubber tube having several mouthpieces; and Madame Tussaud's figures will hereafter talk, as well as look like their great prototypes! — Scribner.

—Daily Star, Marion, OH, April 22, 1878, p. 2.

Breaks From Jail; His 180th Escape

1920

Notorious Roy Dickerson Is Again At Large

Alleged Ring Leader of Gang Which Looted Bank at Girard, Ala., Defies Prison Bars

LOS ANGELES, Cal. — Roy Dickerson, charged with aiding in the robbery of a bank at Girard, Ala., made what is said to have been his 180th escape from jail here, when he used a crude key on his cell lock in the city prison, climbed up a ventilator shaft and fled.

Dickerson's wife, who is in jail here, said her husband formerly was a vaudeville performer, making a specialty of freeing himself from handcuffs and other restraints. She told the police he had escaped 180 times and that he never had been imprisoned successfully longer than two months.

Dickerson's cell mate was found asleep after the escape. He told the guards he had not heard Dickerson's movements.

Had Escaped From Atlanta Pen

Dickerson was the alleged leader of a band of bandits who were involved in the looting of the Phoenix-Girard bank of Girard, Ala., and obtaining about $30,000 in cash. He had previously made his escape from the Fulton County penitentiary, in Atlanta, Ga., along with three other inmates.

The gang, after making the raid on the Girard bank, it is claimed, scattered and met in St. Louis for a division of the spoils. Subsequently detective shadowing the bandits arrested Dickerson here, who, with his wife, was living in a twenty-four-apartment house that they had purchased.

They were going under the name of Mr. and Mrs. George W. Lynch.

The sum of $10,000, supposed to have been a part of the bank robbery loot, was recovered by the detectives. They had an equity of $8,000 in the apartment house.

Charge Wife Aided in Escape

Detectives declare that Dickerson had been in the penitentiary several times before in Missouri, Oklahoma and Kansas, and that he had made his escape each time through the aid of his wife. When Dickerson escaped from the penitentiary in Atlanta his wife was living in a hotel in that city.

After the meeting of the bandits in St. Louis the various members of the band were shadowed and the apprehension of many of them was effected. Seven of the gang were taken at different parts of the United States.

Dickerson's wife was seen in St. Louis by detectives and the pair were traced to this city. Waiting for an opportunity to take the pair and get the money at the same time, they continued shadowing Mrs. Dickerson and they were taken about two weeks ago in their apartment house here.

An Artist's Fad, and Wycliffe's Bible

1916

An Artist's Fad

A Parisian artist in lieu of a picture gallery has a collection of great painters' palettes, some 500 in number, among them being Corot's, Isabey's and Theodore Rousseau's. On many of the palettes are sketches by the painters who used them.


Wycliffe's Bible

John Wycliffe completed the translation of the whole Bible for the first time into the language of the English people. He was born near Richmond, in Yorkshire, about 1324.


A Case of Fifty-Fifty

"Half the world doesn't know how the other half lives."
That's the half that minds its own business probably." — Philadelphia Ledger.


Fair Enough

"Yes," we admitted, "it's a fine car. and we'd be glad to own it but we can't afford to buy it, and there's no use wasting your breath trying to persuade us."
"Listen," pleaded the agent, "this car isn't going to cost you a cent. All you've got to do is to take out an accident policy in our favor and the car is yours. We'll even pay the premium on the policy. Can anything be fairer than that?" — St. Louis Post-Dispatch.

Comment: I'll admit it, I don't get that last one. It must be a comment on the high cost of car insurance, that they'll give you a free car just to take your money on a policy. It's sort of like with instant cameras a few years ago; they were very cheap but the film's what got you.

Examining Great Paintings, Finding the Artist's Signature

1916

Difficult to Find Sometimes and Not Always Reliable

Many of the works of the old masters are not signed. Experts rarely rely on signatures alone in determining the authenticity of an old work, but trust rather to their knowledge of the painter's technique.

False signatures can be easily detected. Spirits of wine or turpentine will usually remove a name of later date than the painting. In the course of time signatures often become very difficult to find. Painted originally in a shade slightly lighter than the ground, perhaps, they sink in, darken and merge into the ground color or they are almost rubbed away by successive cleanings. Recognizable one day in a specially favorable light, they may not be visible again for weeks.

Experts speak of "will-o'-the-wisp" signatures, and many collectors have encountered accidental strokes and cracks that tantalizingly suggest a signature, though it can never be made definite. On the other hand, there have been remarkable cases of such marks, after careful study, resolving themselves into a famous name. Sometimes the painter's name is most conspicuous — as, for instance, in Raphael's "Sposalizio" at Milan. Proud of having surpassed his master, the youthful genius wrote on a frieze in the very center of the canvas "Raphael Urbinas."

Reynolds hardly ever signed his work. But upon the completion of the portrait of Mrs. Siddons as the "Tragic Muse" he wrote his name large on the gold embroidery of her dress. He was unable, he said, "to resist the temptation of sending my name to posterity on the hem of your garment."

With reference to unsigned paintings there is told in Germany an amusing story. Achenbach. the German artist, enjoyed a vogue about ten years ago. A certain collector had bought from an art dealer a marine represented as a genuine Achenbach. Afterward it was pronounced to be a copy. The buyer brought an action against the dealer, who turned the tables by declaring that his picture was genuine and the other was a copy.

Achenbach himself was summoned by the court to tell which was which. Amazed at the similarity of the two paintings, the artist gazed at them for a long time, inspected them closely front and back and then frankly admitted that he could not tell which was the original and which the copy.— Harper's Weekly.

—Stevens Point Daily Journal, Stevens Point, Wisconsin, July 29, 1916, page 7.

His Facial Foliage Given a Trim and Wrapped

1916

Its Fate When Living Up to Its Dignity Was Suggested

There is a comic artist on a New York paper who used to drink a little too much and a little too often. Also he wore a heavy brown beard of which he was very proud.

One morning he came to the office, showing signs of indiscretions the night before. His managing editor endeavored to appeal to his better judgment.

"Old man," he said seriously, "you're too old and too smart to be doing this sort of thing. It might be all right for a lot of smooth faced kids to spend the night over a bar, but you ought to remember that you're no longer a kid. You ought to try to live up to the dignity of that beard of yours."

This last suggestion seemed to throw the culprit into a brown study. He retired to his corner of the art room to think it over. In a few minutes he put on his hat and coat and slipped out, and he didn't come back for two weeks either. But within an hour after his departure the managing editor heard from him. A messenger boy brought in a pasteboard box such as florists use to pack flowers in. The managing editor cut the wrappings and opened the box.

There was nothing inside except a heavy brown beard, which had been newly sheared off the owner's face, with one lone rosebud reposing in the center of it — Philadelphia Saturday Evening Post.

—Stevens Point Daily Journal, Stevens Point, Wisconsin, July 29, 1916, page 3.

Forgotten "Good-by, Dolly Gray" Composer All But Forgotten

1922

Meteoric Careers

Who today remembers the name of Paul Barnes? It took the tragic news of his death, blind, insane and destitute, to recall him to a generation to which his talents had no longer an appeal.

Yet his song, "Good-by, Dolly Gray," not so long ago, was a national war song. In the stirring days of '98 it was whistled and hummed and vamped and soloed and barber-shop-chorused and orchestraed and military- banded in camp and field and city by thousands of the boys in blue; it was a gentle solace to mothers in quiet cottage homes, a farewell token from many a young soldier on has way to Cuba or the Philippines.

Just a wisp of melody and a scrap of verse — pleasing and popular for the moment because it struck the keynote of a sentimentally aroused patriotism — entirely out of tune with the jazz and tension of the present day.

Such, however, is the inevitable fate of those whose talents are only for their own time and place. They have hitched their wagon to a meteor, not to a fixed star. Like the skyrocket, they burst into sudden splendor, and their fate is that of the rocket. The way of the artist is hard, especially of him who has but one arrow in his quiver. For him who persists in using bows and arrows in the days of rapid firing guns, of course the case is hopeless.

What shall be written over the tomb of the singer who gave the world "Dolly Gray" at a time when it was hungry for such poetic food? Surely something kindlier than the old cynical Latin inscription, "Sic transit gloria mundi!" — Los Angeles Times.

—The Nebraska State Journal, Lincoln, Nebraska, June 11, 1922, page 10.

Temperament Is a Costly Luxury for Misha Elman

1920

FAMOUS VIOLINIST, WHO BROKE CONTRACT TO PLAY HERE, FORCED TO PART WITH COIN

Misha Elman, "the Great Elman," by his own admission, has learned that an "artistic temperament" is a costly luxury, especially when he gives vent to it in Appleton. The famous violinist is out several hundred dollars because of his refusal to carry out his contract to appear in a concert at Lawrence Memorial chapel a few weeks ago, it was announced this morning. Dean F. V. Evans of Lawrence Conservatory yesterday received a check from Elman's lawyers in payment in full of the conservatory's claims against the artist. The conservatory was represented by Attorney J. P. Frank.

It will be remembered that Elman was to appear here in concert shortly after Max Rosin, boy violinist thrilled Appleton music lovers, but the Russian star was seized with a fit of temperament and refused to go on with the concert because music lovers had been invited to compare his music with that of Rosin. "Compare me, the great Elman, with Max Rosin, a mere boy, bah!" Elman is alleged to have said. He also was peeved because, he said, his concert was not advertised sufficiently.

His lawyers, however, apparently reached the conclusion that in this country "artistic temperament" cannot be accepted as an excuse for violation of contract. Their payment to Dean Evans completely vindicates the latter in his dealings with the artist. It is also possible that Misha Elman will exercise better control of his emotions hereafter.

--The Appleton Daily Post, Appleton, Wisconsin, January 6, 1920, page 5.

Note: His name is frequently spelled Mischa Elman in references to him online.