Mr Whistler has always spelt art with a capital T.
Oscar Wilde (1854-1900) on James McNeil Whistler |
My dear Leighton, why do you ever begin yours?
James McNeil Whistler on Frederic Leighton |
My dear Whistler, you leave your pictures in such a sketchy, unfinished state. Why don't you ever finish them?
Frederic Leighton (1830-96), British painter, on James McNeil Whistler (1834-1903) |
Of course we all know that Morris was a wonderful all-round man, but the act of walking round him has always tired me.
Max Beerbohm (1872-1956) on William Morris (1834-96) |
Rembrandt is not to be compared in the painting of character with our extraordinarily gifted English artist, Mr Rippingille.
John Hunt, 19th-century art critic, on Rembrandt (1606-69) |
Rossetti is not a painter. Rossetti is a ladies maid.
James McNeill Whistler, American painter, on Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1828-82), British poet and painter |
Shockingly mad, madder than ever, quite mad.
Horace Walpole (1717-97), British letter writer and memoirist, on Henry Fuseli (1741 -1825), Swiss-born British artist |
The properties of his figures are sometimes such as might be corrected by a common sign painter.
William Hogarth (1697-1764), British painter, satirist and engraver, on Antonio Correggio, 16th-century Italian painter |
There is one thing on earth more terrible than English music and that is English painting.
Heinrich Heine (1797-1856), German poet and essayist |
This is not amusing, it is dismaying and disheartening. The other day, someone attributed to me the statement that 'the human race was nearing insanity'. I never said that but if anyone is trying to convince me that this is 'modern art', and that it is representative of our time, I would be obliged to think that statement is true.
Kenyon Cox, American critic, in Harper's Weekly (1913) on Henri Matisse's painting The Red Studio' |
To the service of the most wildly eccentric thoughts, he brings the acerbity of a bigot... his mental temperament is that of the first Spanish Grand Inquisitor. He is a Tbrquemada of aesthetics... he would burn alive the critic who disagrees with him.
Max Nordau (1849-1923) on John Ruskin |
What is art? Prostitution.
Charles Baudelaire (1821-67) |
Who is this chap? He drinks, he's dirty, and I know there are women in the background.
Lord Montgomery (1887-1976), on Augustus John (1878-1961) |
