The Frick Collection
James Abbott McNeill Whistler (1834–1903), Symphony in Grey and Green: The Ocean, 1866, oil on canvas, The Frick Collection
 
Special Exhibition
 

Symphony in Grey and Green: The Ocean
Podcast | Video

Symphony in Flesh Colour and Pink: Portrait of Mrs Frances Leyland
Podcast | Video

Arrangement in Brown and Black: Portrait of Miss Rosa Corder
Podcast | Video

Harmony in Pink and Grey: Portrait of Lady Meux
Podcast | Video

Arrangement in Black and Gold: Comte Robert de Montesquiou-Fezensac
Podcast | Video

Portraits, Pastels, Prints: Whistler in The Frick Collection 
June 2 through August 23, 2009

Whistler’s Working Method

  James Abbott McNeill Whistler (1834–1903), Symphony in Grey and Green: The Ocean, 1866, oil on canvas, The Frick Collection
 

James McNeill Whistler (1834–1903), Arrangement in Brown and Black: Portrait of Miss Rosa Corder, 1876–78, oil on canvas, The Frick Collection

Accounts of the discord and controversy that often surrounded Whistler — notably his famous libel suit against the critic John Ruskin of 1878 and his frequent disputes with sitters — portray a brash and at times reckless man. As an artist, however, Whistler was serious and devoted to his craft — a perfectionist who controlled all aspects of production, choosing canvases of particular weaves and designing his own frames. His paintings evolved over the course of numerous lengthy sessions in the studio, often to the vexation of his sitters. Rosa Corder, whose portrait is shown here, once recounted to a friend that she posed for Whistler some forty times “lasting on two occasions until she fainted and at last refused to go on with them.” The Comte de Montesquiou similarly remarked on the “innumerable and interminable posing sessions . . . like drills during which the painting . . . seems to submit to the very laws of human growth,” which he endured until Whistler finally declared, “Look at me for an instant longer, and you will look forever.”

Whistler experimented constantly and altered his compositions as he painted, often spending an entire day on a hand or head. He sometimes scraped down his canvases in order to begin anew and repainted certain passages over and over again, ultimately concealing his process with a final layer of freely applied paint. The boldness of his brushstrokes creates the illusion that he dashed off his paintings with great speed, rather than with obsessive care, and attests to his facility with paint, just as his spare application of pastel and deftly etched lines demonstrate his mastery as a printmaker and draftsman. Whistler’s handling of paint dazzles the eye as much for its vivid energy as for the splendid illusions of form and texture it achieves. Whistler painted the five pictures exhibited here before and after his stay in Venice in 1879–80. Three pastels and twelve etchings from this trip are on view in the Cabinet near the museum’s entrance.