Lithography

Other countries lagged far behind Germany, England and France in the first half of the last century. Spain gave us Goya, the bril liant, the romantic, the grim; Manet, with paint or canvas, did not get more life and colour out of the bull-ring than Goya with greasy chalk on stone. The rest of Europe was practically barren. In America lithography was entirely commercial, with nothing to show that Americans appreciated it as an art save for a stray print by Lafarge or William Morris Hunt and the Campaign Sketches of Winslow Homer, made during the Civil War and re membered now because of his fame as a painter. By the middle of the century, the first great period of the art of lithography was everywhere at an end.

Decline of Lithography.

Already in 184o, etchings were competing with lithographs in L'Artiste and Beraldi was announc ing the decline of lithography. In 1864 Burty declared the art en pleine decadence. Both were right. The reasons are not far to seek. The swing of the pendulum for one, lithographs had been almost too popular. French lithographers, warned to be serious like the Germans, began to copy pictures which they did, though with distinction, at the sacrifice of original design. Photography became a serious rival in all countries, bringing its disastrous gift of cheap ness. Photographic processes replaced lithography, as well as wood-engraving, for the illustration of magazines and papers. In the '6os photo-lithographs were finding their way into Baron Taylor's monumental work. The commercial lithographer soon pre ferred the camera to the artist. The horrors of chromolithography demoralized the public. A mystery was made of the actual print ing. Artists, not allowed near the press—and few had presses of their own—were kept in an outer room waiting for proofs. The earlier transfer papers were abominable. Dealers fought shy of lithographs and collectors hesitated to follow where dealers feared to lead. Under the new conditions the art threatened to disappear.

Modern Revival.

But an art with such possibilities for the artist could not altogether die. Adolf Menzel, trained in a Berlin printing shop, was the chief link between the first great period and the revival. In the '4os and '5os, those dark decades for lithography, he was doing his Uniforms of the Army of Frederick the Great, issuing his Sketches on Stone in a portfolio, bringing out occasional prints, none more famous than his Christ in the Temple. His lithographs are marvels of technical knowledge and accomplished drawing, an inexhaustible mine for the intelligent student. In France, the new generation was discovering lithog raphy for itself through the work of the French masters. In the '6os Manet experimented, also Bracquemond, Legros, Fantin Latour, who began his well-known series with Wagner as inspira tion. In London in the '705 the printer Thomas Way interested Whistler, who, enchanted with so autographic a medium, pro duced little masterpieces that made a talk in the studios. Several

appeared in Piccadilly, The Albemarle, The Whirlwind, publica tions which his contributions could not save from an early death. And so, little by little, lithography as an art came into its own again, especially in France where a retrospective exhibition of lithographs was held at the Ecole des Beaux Arts in 1891. Beraldi now talked of the revival in the air and the French, ever leading in such movements, prepared for a more important, more com plete exhibition to celebrate the centenary of Senefelder's inven tion.

The '9os were the years when the Champ-de-Mars Salon opened its doors wide to the new school of lithographers, and the black and-white section was a place to linger in—the years when Tou louse-Lautrec, Steinlen, Odilon Redon, Valloton, Ibels, Anquetin were at work, and Cheret made the walls of Paris gay with his posters. Painters returned to the stone—Besnard, Blanche, Gan dara, Puvis de Chavannes and Carriere who never did anything finer in any medium than his portrait of Paul Verlaine. Litho graphs again appeared in papers and magazines, again were issued in series, gave the chief interest to such collections as L'Estampe Originate, for which Toulouse-Lautrec made the memorable poster in colour. The excitement reached its climax with the wonderful Centenary Exhibition at the Champ-de-Mars, opening in 1895, three years in advance of the actual date as if France could not wait to pay its tribute to Senefelder.

In England only a few shared Whistler's enthusiasm. C. H. Shannon set up his own press, lithographed much the same sub jects he painted, with much the same delicacy and grace. Joseph Pennell used lithography for the illustration of Macmillan's new edition of The Alhambra and the Devon and Cornwall volume in the Highways and Byways series. He had no press, the print ing was done at Way's where mystery prevailed, and the pale grey prints gave no idea of his powerful Panama and War Work lithographs that were to come later. William Rothenstein pub lished portfolios of portraits. Charles Conder's lithographs, in their subjects, seem like his fans, but even vaguer in design, more elusive in charm. William Strang, like Rothenstein, turned to portraiture—grave serious studies. A few more artists could be named but, in all, so few that when Great Britain was asked to contribute to the Champ-de-Mars Exhibition, Alfred Gilbert, the sculptor who had begun his career in a lithographer's office, and Charles Goulding, the lithographic printer, scattered transfer paper, chalks and washes wholesale among Royal Academicians and prominent outsiders before any sort of contemporary repre sentation could be made. England held a retrospective exhibition at the Victoria and Albert Museum three years later, 1898, the correct date, with not much more to show in the British Section than the collections sent to the Champ-de-Mars.