Word: sickerts
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...late years, Hilaire Germain Edgar Degas was chatting in his studio with one of his few friends and many admirers, the English painter Walter Richard Sickert. When they decided to visit a cafe, young Sickert got ready to summon a horse-drawn cab. Degas objected. "Personally, I don't like cabs. You don't see anyone. That's why I love to ride on the omnibus -- you can look at people. We were created to look at one another, weren't we?" No passing remark could take you closer to the heart of 19th century realism: the idea...
...many of the lesser-known things in this show -- like the dense and acerbic paintings of Degas's friend Walter Richard Sickert, or Matthew Smith's responses to fauvism, or the work of the vorticists around 1914 (Wyndham Lewis, William Roberts, Henri Gaudier-Brzeska), or that of individuals like Stanley Spencer, David Bomberg, Jacob Epstein and Paul Nash, and so on through to the post-'60s paintings of men like Lucian Freud, Leon Kossoff, Frank Auerbach, R.B. Kitaj and Howard Hodgkin -- now strike us as not just a footnote to, but an essential part of, the visual culture...
...Chartwell country estate years ago, Winston Churchill was deploring a picture that Art Patron Eddie Marsh had persuaded Mrs. Churchill to buy. Said Painter Walter Sickert, who was visiting Churchill: "Our little friend Eddie is not without a certain idiot flair." Last week, four months after Edward Howard Marsh died at the age of 80, a London gallery displayed the pick of the pictures he had collected for himself over the years, and the critics came to a kinder conclusion: "A great midwife of the arts...
While such unconventional friends as Augustus John and Walter Sickert painted and blustered their way to colorful international reputations, Steer retired more & more into the quiet life of a successful painter-teacher. Hating anything that smacked of "artiness," he wore stiff three-inch collars, dressed in Savile Row suits, ordered his life as rigidly as a banker's clerk. "Painting," he said, "is a job like any other, something one has to do between meals...
Until his death in 1942, he resisted all attempts by reverent younger artists to pigeonhole him as Britain's "grand old man of painting." At one of his last shows, he stood in front of an early work, exclaimed, "That's not a Sickert! It's much too good for a Sickert...