Whistler as I knew him . ngs at the music halls andpantomimes amused him just as if he were a child. Always, after a theatre, we went to the HogarthClub, where Whistler gathered all the men about himby the fascination of his talk. Speaking simply ina quiet way to myself, and without once lookinground, Whistler would draw every man in that club tohis side, — smart young men about town, old fogies,retired soldiers who had been dozing in Master himself appeared unconscious: I aloneknew that he had wilfully attracted them. He hyp-notised those men, every one of them; and it wasinter
Whistler as I knew him . ngs at the music halls andpantomimes amused him just as if he were a child. Always, after a theatre, we went to the HogarthClub, where Whistler gathered all the men about himby the fascination of his talk. Speaking simply ina quiet way to myself, and without once lookinground, Whistler would draw every man in that club tohis side, — smart young men about town, old fogies,retired soldiers who had been dozing in Master himself appeared unconscious: I aloneknew that he had wilfully attracted them. He hyp-notised those men, every one of them; and it wasinteresting to watch that slight, fragile little figuresipping his glass of liqueur and holding the atten-tion of that room full of men all drinking unlimitedbrandies and sodas. Every one of them, I warrant,went away at the end of the evening with a desire forwork: Whistler invariably inspired people to work. He and I would go home together. We always BLACK AND GOLD, VENICEFrom a pastel in the possession of Louis Huth, IN THE DAYS ROUND 11 walked, however late the hour, for the Master lookedupon walking as a healthy exercise. It was strangeto see him, in his dainty shoes, holding up hisskirts as he picked his way through the mud of Picca-dilly, always laughing always gay, never weary. Weinvariably went home at night by the way of the Em-bankment, to look at some nocturne, perhaps a fishshop, which Whistler was trying to commit to mem-ory. He would talk aloud as he created the ideafor one of his marvellous pictures. He would say: Look at that golden interior with the two spots oflight, and that old woman with the cherpiered the warm purple tone outside going away up tothe green of the sky, and the shadows from the win-dows thrown on the ground. What an exquisite lace-work they form! He would say all this aloud, andI would walk back with him to his studio, and talkwith him, sometimes, until two oclock in the he would say, as I was leaving: Now, Menpes,re
Size: 1278px × 1954px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookauthormenpesmo, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookyear1904
