A painter once made a miniature of King Charles II. which was more or
less of a caricature. "Is that like me?" said the King when he saw it.
"Then, odd's fish, I'm an ugly fellow!"
The remark recalls another made to our own Queen when she said to
Chalon, the miniaturist, that photography would ruin his profession.
"Ah! non, madame; photographie cannot flattere," was the confident
reply.
[Illustration: [_By M. Josephine Gibson._
"KATHLEEN".]
These comments seem to imply that miniatures make either "ugly fellows"
or flattered dames, which is by no means true. But in selecting those
which accompany this article, we sought for pretty faces, and decided to
admit no "fellows" of any sort except one--no less than a Lord Chief
Justice.
The very marked attention which the miniatures in the Royal Academy
attracted this year is one of many things which show how great a revival
there has been in the taste for miniatures--a revival which is one of
the most significant features in the history of modern art.
When photography appeared, it had no difficulty for a time in sweeping
miniatures out of the field, for many people preferred the novelty of an
exact portrait to a "work of art."
[Illustration: [_By M. Josephine Gibson._
"MA BELLE."]
But the pendulum of taste has again swung back. We no longer accept a
coloured photograph as a substitute for a genuine miniature, but realise
that the two things are quite distinct. At the same time, there are
to-day a number of so-called miniaturists who content themselves with
copying photographs. But all those whose work is here represented
condemn the practice, and do their work from the life. This involves, of
course, several sittings for the person to be painted--a fact sometimes
resented. Two famous miniaturists wanted to paint King Charles II., so
to save time he made them paint him at the same sitting.
Mr. Cecil Rhodes is a man who thinks sittings are superfluous. He gave a
commission to Miss Carlisle--a clever portrait painter and
miniaturist--to paint his portrait, but nothing could induce him to give
a sitting. Miss Carlisle therefore had to dodge him in all sorts of ways
to see what manner of man he was.
He used to pass her studio on his way to the Park in the morning, so
Miss Carlisle was always on the watch for him and on many other
occasions, about which he knew nothing.
[Illustration: [_By Edith Maas._
"DELIA."]
Miss Carlisle was born in South Africa, where her grandfather, General
Sir John Bisset, was well known. Curiously enough, when Miss Carlisle
was quite a young girl she came over to England on the same boat as Mr.
Cecil Rhodes. He was then, she says, "a long and lanky youth, who spent
all his time in reading books." He was coming to Oxford to keep his
terms.
By the way, there was a famous lady miniaturist in the days of Charles
I. named Carlisle, and to show his appreciation of her work the King
presented her with L500 worth of ultramarine!
To paint a miniature is as arduous a task as to paint a large picture in
oils, and requires quite as much skill. Miss Coleridge--whose miniature
of her uncle, Chief Justice Coleridge, attracted so much attention in
the Academy this year, and is reproduced on p. 202--says: "I find the
work, though I love it, even harder than painting large portraits; it
requires quite as much thought and care. It is only by working straight
from the life, studying your model's expression and character, that you
can hope to be even the most humble disciple of the art as it was in the
last century.
"The great difficulty I experience is in getting people to understand
that they must sit to me. They all say, 'Miss or Mr. So-and-So paints
from photos--why can't you?' No doubt these artists do a very charming
lightly-stippled coloured photo for them, but there can never be any
life in these things, nor can they be anything else than coloured
photographs, however pleasant to the eye of their owners."
The portrait of Miss Wilson, one of the beauties of the season, is also
by Miss Coleridge, who works a great deal in pastels.
[Illustration: [_By Maud Coleridge._