Oscar Wilde’s London by Wolf von Eckardt, Sander L. Gilman and J. Edward Chamberlin (1987)

A large format, 284-page coffee-table book most notable for its many contemporary illustrations (all in black and white).

This is not an academic book – it is a popular social history or review of the cultural life of London over the period between Oscar Wilde’s first arrival in London – having graduated from Oxford, in 1879 – to May 1897 when he was released from Pentonville prison and took the night train to Dieppe, never to return. Twenty years, quite a long time, a generation.

The introduction is a collection of clichés and stereotypes about the period, telling us the end of the nineteenth century was a time of immense social, economic, technological and cultural change etc – not only more people but more technological inventions (photography, electric lighting, telegraph, telephone, early motor car), more newspapers, journals and magazines, publishing more facts and figures and stories and photographs and illustrations than ever before, intellectual ferment Darwin, Arts and Crafts, the peak of Empire, Victoria’s jubilees etc etc – the kind of thing you read in absolutely every introduction to the period and quickly becomes over-familiar.

But when you get into the chapters on specific topics these get quite interesting on a whole range of topics, from the electrification of the first streets, public buildings and theatres to details about football, rugby and cricket, the rise of bicycling, various forms of religion and so on, all accompanied by jolly contemporary illustrations. A notable feature is extended quotes from interesting sources such as Wilde’s trial, police reports, WT Stead’s articles, T.S. Eliot’s obituary of Marie Lloyd and so on. These are interesting tasters, incentivising the reader to go searching for fuller texts online…

By way of a ‘review’ I thought it would be fun to give a brief summary and one image from each chapter.

1. Art and Life

Rapid expansion. The Underground. More train lines led to huge expansion of new suburbs.

From Pentonville Road looking west evening, 1884 by John O’Connor © Museum of London

Aestheticism already existed (Rossetti, Swinburne) but Wilde set out to make himself its apostle, peacock feathers and sunflowers. Mocked in Gilbert and Sullivan’s operetta Patience. Wilde’s lecture tour of America accompanying a tour of the opera.

Wilde lived with the painter Frank Miles who moved to an Aesthetic house at 1 Tite Street, where Wilde was later to move, in 1884 after he married Constance Lloyd (neighbours to James Whistler and John Singer Sergeant). They had the place redesigned by Edward Godwin. The interior decoration described by his son Vyvyan. The salon his wife, Constance, established.

Three or four page discussion of the overlap between Aestheticism and the Arts and Crafts movement, with its serious commitment to improving the surroundings and lives of the population with beautiful architecture, furnishings etc. Ruskin and Morris’s serious political commitment, and Wilde’s take on it in his essay The Soul of Man Under Socialism.

2. Lilies and Sunflowers

The Arts and Crafts Movement, William Morris, Burne-Jones. The Kelmscott Press. The vegetal style i.e. the sinuous line based on lilies which spread across Europe in Art Nouveau, the Jugendstil etc (p.41). The fashion for Japanisme.

Ruskin thought ornament was the basis of architecture. Morris thought ornament was the basis of civilised society (p.32). This explains why Arts and Crafts interiors, wallpaper and furniture were so heavy, cluttered and dark.

Acanthus wallpaper by William Morris

Libertys. The Kelmscott Press. Ruskin and Morris were populist, Whistler and Wilde were elitists. The Ruskin versus Whistler libel trial. The fashion for Japanoiserie. The rise and rise of home decoration and furnishing in lots of new magazines. Wilde’s American lecture which explains the two types of beauty epitomised y the sunflower and the lily (p.41).

The PRB artists: Burne-Jones, Millais, Waterhouse. Aubrey Beardsley’s illustrations for the Yellow Book and Wilde’s play, Salome. Beardsley’s self presentation was every bit as calculating and immaculate as Wilde’s but in a different mode.

Aubrey Beardsley photographed by Frederick Hollyer (Victoria and Albert Museum)

3. The Call of the Stage

In October 1881 Richard D’Oyly Carte opened the New Savoy Theatre on the Strand, the first building in London to be lit by electricity, specifically 1,200 electric arc lamps and 715 stage lamps. D’Oyly Carte had already produced:

  • Trial by Jury (1875)
  • The Sorcerer (1877)
  • HMS Pinafore (1878)
  • The Pirates of Penzance (1879)
  • Patience or Bunthorne’s Bride (1881)
  • Iolanthe (1882)
  • Princess Ida (1884)
  • The Mikado (1885)
  • Ruddigore; or, The Witch’s Curse (1887)
  • The Yeomen of the Guard (1888)
  • The Gondoliers (1889)
  • Utopia, Limited (1893)
  • The Grand Duke (1896)

Leading actors of the later 1870s and 1880s Henry Irving and Ellen Terry who appeared together in an 1885 Hamlet.

Ellen Terry

Playwrights before Wilde, namely Arthur Wing Pinero, author of ‘The Second Mrs Tanqueray’ (1892) the latest of umpteen ‘Woman with a Past’ stories (the premise used by Wilde in, for example, ‘Lady Windermere’s Fan’).

Mrs Patrick Campbell

Mrs Patrick Campbell is from the next generation of actresses, starting her career in ‘The Second Mrs Tanqueray’. She kept up a spirited correspondence with the young new playwright George Bernard Shaw, whose first production was ‘Widowers Houses’ (1892). Notes on Wilde’s run of four social comedies:

  • Lady Windermere’s Fan (1892)
  • A Woman of No Importance (1893)
  • An Ideal Husband
  • The Importance of Being Earnest (1895)

The influence of Henrik Ibsen, his various translators and adapters. Popular theatre, Sadlers Wells, pantomime and penny gaffs.

4. Readers and Writers

The proliferation of outlets for the reading public; bookshops, kiosks, railway shops; newspapers, magazines from The Labour Prophet to The Yellow Book. The yellow press (‘newspapers that use eye-catching headlines and sensationalized exaggerations’). Proliferation of literary magazines (p.83) but also pulp, penny dreadfuls, shilling shockers.

Magazine seller at Ludgate Circus

Tennyson (d.1892)’s anxiety about progress and materialism. Robert Browning (d.1889)’s dramatic monologues, mostly from history. New kid on the block Rudyard Kipling’s poems and stories. Inevitably the authors quote from his poem The White Man’s Burden, about empire, everyone always does.

Meanwhile…Socialism! The Socialist League of Hammersmith. The Fabians, Beatrice and Sidney Webb. 1886 riots in the West End.

New science inspired Robert Louis Stephenson (d. 1894) but also, with huge impact, H.G. Wells. Both of them and many other authors were associated with the new mystique of cities – fogs, mysteries, doppelgangers. The well-known story about American publisher J. M. Stoddart inviting Oscar Wilde and Arthur Conan Doyle for dinner and commissioning the second Sherlock Holmes novel and The Picture of Dorian Gray which triggers quotes from reviews of Dorian, particularly the famous one by Charles Whibley which accused it of immorality (p.94).

One literary feature of the fin-de-siecle was the Rhymers Club meeting at the Cheshire Cheese pub in the Strand, including Ernest Dowson, Lionel Johnson, Francis Thompson, Richard Le Gallienne, Arthur Symons with Wilde attending meetings that were held in private homes.

Wilde’s death in 1900 coincided with the date W.B. Yeats thinks the whole fin-de-siecle thing evaporated. As he wrote in the introduction to his (quirky) Oxford Book of Modern Verse.

Then in 1900 everybody got down off his stilts; henceforth nobody drank absinthe with his black coffee; nobody went mad; nobody committed suicide; nobody joined the Catholic church; or if they did I have forgotten.

5. London’s Growth

‘It was a turbulent time.’ New buildings and boulevards. Electric lighting spread quickly. Creation of the Embankment and ongoing extension of the Underground. Regent Street. Trafalgar Square. Horses and carts and hansom cabs. Traffic jams on the Strand.

Regent Street Quadrant at Night by Francis Forster (Museum of London)

The pong of horse poo. Drinking troughs. Crossing sweepers. Thick fogs.

Horse bus outside the Shard Arms on Peckham Park Road, circa 1895

Accents of different parts of London which is the basis for Shaw’s play ‘Pygmalion’. Crooked property developers and ramshackle tenements. The fourth Earl of Bedford’s Covent Garden development of the 1630s became a model or sorts. The financial motivation for all those tall narrow Georgian houses facing squares (p.113).

The army of domestic servants. In Wilde’s day London houses as many as a million and a quarter domestic servants. Many, maybe most female servants were subjected to sexual harassment. If they were caught or got pregnant they were fired without a reference. This forced most into a life of prostitution, hence the vast numbers in London.

The Season began as a method of getting marriageable young daughters up from their country estates to find husbands at a packed series of parties and public events. By Wilde’s time it was also a market for industrialists and financiers and men with money to acquire a pedigree by marrying into aristocratic families. By Wilde’s time there was a growing influx of American heiresses looking for posh husbands, a type he mocks in essays and in the character of Hester Worsley in ‘A Woman of No Importance’ (1893).

The vast army of dressmakers and seamstresses who supported these well-dressed women during the Season, as many as 20,000. Middle class consumption, more shops, more manufactured goods. The new big department stores: Harrods, Whiteleys. Huge new restaurants and grill rooms.

6. …and London’s Shame

The poverty of the East End and other slum quarters. Workers slaved long hours in the ‘stink industries’ like soap, rubber, tar, glue, fertiliser made from blood and matches. Sweatshops which were, in fact, freezing cold in winter.

Fore Street, Lambeth

Dr Barnardo’s Home for Working and Destitute Lads. Wilde was notoriously dismissive of charity which he thought applied sticking plasters to a system which needed to be completely overthrown. At least that’s what he said in the Soul of Man Under Socialism.

Vast armies of prostitutes, dolly mops (promiscuous servant girls) including the boy renters Wilde frequented. Conscription to the army during the Boer War (1899 to 1902) not only revealed the wretched physical state of working class men but that a large percentage had sexually transmitted infections (20% of the army, more in the Navy).

The armies of the poor were continually replenished by immigrants, notably Jews from East Europe who suffered periodic antisemitic riots when times were hard, but also Chinese and lascars. Nine pages about the Jack the Ripper murders 1888 to 1891 i.e. as Wilde wrote his best essays and Dorian Gray (pages 130 to 139).

New architecture. The later Victorians rebelled against the straitlaced classicism of Georgian architecture and exploded in a plethora of wild styles, including all manner of Gothic covered with decoration and ornament e.g. St Pancras station by Gilbert George Scott. Plus the Law Courts, Piccadilly Circus,

The suburbs were built partly for political goals. Lord Shaftsbury said ‘If the working man has his own house. I have no fear of revolution’. And hence an 1883 Cheap Trains Act forcing the railway companies to offer cheap fares for those commuting in and out of the centre. Developers packed suburban terraces so that architectural critics complained about their sameyness. Certainly the case in South London where I live and you can cycle through Streatham, Tooting and on down to Morden seeing the same type of 1900s terraced houses in street after street.

The Golden Age of the London Pub with plenty of gilt and mirrors. Somehow this segues into testimony from the Oscar Wilde trial from one of the many young men Wilde paid to have sex with.

7. The Lower Classes

The population grew from 3,215,000 in 1870 to 4,211,000 in 1890, from two sources: immigration from the countryside; immigration of Jews from Eastern Europe. the long recession 1873 to 1893 led to unemployment as did cheaper better imports coming from America then Germany.

‘The Bitter Cry Of Outcast London: An Inquiry Into The Condition Of The Abject Poor’ by Andrew Mearns (1883). ‘In Darkest England and the Way Out’ by William Booth (1890). The Salvation Army.

Victorian street kids

Life expectancy in the country 51, in London 28. Armies of rough sleepers. Long quote of Beatrice Webb’s eye witness account of a steamer arriving carrying refugee Jews from the East. The great hero Dr Barnardo. Phos girls who lacked jaws or fingers, eaten away by phosphorus as they made matches.

The work of Henry Labouchère, MP, social reformer, best known for his campaign to stamp out ‘vice’ which led to the Labouchère Amendment (Section 11 of the Criminal Law Amendment Act 1885) which for the first time criminalised ‘gross indecency’ meaning any type of male homosexual activity in Britain and was the law Wilde was convicted under.

1888 article in the Fortnightly Review detailing the unfair conditions domestic servants labour under.

8. Religion, Spirits and Hosanna

Religious belief declined steadily through the second half of the nineteenth century. Some posh people defected to the Roman Catholic church (as Wilde did on his deathbed). But allegiance to the Church of England slowly steadily declined. Wilde has several comic churchmen, notably the Reverend Canon Chasuble in The Importance of Being Earnest.

My sermon on the meaning of the manna in the wilderness can be adapted to almost any occasion, joyful, or, as in the present case, distressing. [All sigh.] I have preached it at harvest celebrations, christenings, confirmations, on days of humiliation and festal days. The last time I delivered it was in the Cathedral, as a charity sermon on behalf of the Society for the Prevention of Discontent among the Upper Orders. The Bishop, who was present, was much struck by some of the analogies I drew.

The central importance of Darwinism (On The Origin of Species 1859, The Descent of Man, and Selection in Relation to Sex, 1871). In fact Darwinism was mostly known through various popularisations of it the most damaging of which was Herbert Spencer’s Social Darwinism which preached that the weak in society deserve to go under.

Upper and middle class dimwits were taken in by Theosophy, spiritualism and so on (as Wilde’s wife, Constance, was). Occultism, mesmerism, seances, clairvoyancy.

Charles Bradlaugh’s defiant refusal, as an atheist, to take the oath of allegiance when he was elected MP. Controversy around Sabbatarianism i.e. whether shops or anything could open on a Sunday. Bradlaugh helped organise the National Sunday League.

9. The Sounds of London

Music high and low. Gilbert and Sullivan. Religious music by Villiers Stanford and Herbert Parry. The astonishing popularity of the oratorio as a form, ‘the dull centre’ of Victorian music. The widespread popularity of choral societies around the country. George Bernard Shaw’s very funny mockery of all this English earnestness. Henry Wood’s Promenade Concerts began in 1895, the year of Wilde’s conviction.

Serious music had to be imported from abroad, Italy, France and especially Germany. The cult of Wagner among aesthetes and students.

Truer to English culture was the music hall, first one opened in 1852 by 1860 there were 250 in London. I’ve always admired Kipling for immediately grasping, on arriving in London, that music hall was the true voice of the capital and basing his Barrack Room Ballads (1890) on them. The authors give an extended quote from an 1891 article in Harper’s New Monthly Magazine describing the different kinds of music hall in London and their audiences and content (pages 186 to 192).

Stars of music hall such as Marie Lloyd and Harry Champion. The fashion for ‘coon’ songs sung by minstrel troupes.

Quote from T.S. Eliot’s obituary of Lloyd:

The working-man who went to the music-hall and saw Marie Lloyd and joined in the chorus was himself performing part of the work of acting; he was engaged in that collaboration of the audience with the artist which is necessary in all art and most obviously in dramatic art. He will now go to the cinema, where his mind is lulled by continuous senseless music and continuous action too rapid for the brain to act upon, and he will receive, without giving, in that same listless apathy with which the middle and upper classes regard any entertainment of the nature of art. He will also have lost some of his interest in life.

Which carries on with some prophetic words:

Perhaps this will be the only solution. In a most interesting essay in the recent volume of Essays on the Depopulation of Melanesia the great psychologist W.H.R. Rivers adduces evidence which has led him to believe that the natives of that unfortunate archipelago are dying out principally for the reason that the “Civilization” forced upon them has deprived them of all interest in life. They are dying from pure boredom. When every theatre has been replaced by 100 cinemas, When every musical instrument has been replaced by 100 gramophones, when every horse has been replaced by 100 cheap motor cars, when electrical ingenuity has made it possible for every child to hear its bed-time stories through a wireless receiver attached to both ears, when applied science has done everything possible with the materials on this earth to make life as interesting as possible, it will not be surprising if the population of the entire civilized world rapidly follows the fate of the Melanesians.

Others lamented the crudity and vulgarity of the music hall and preferred the imagined purity of folk song, such as Herbert Parry at the inauguration of the Folk Song Society in 1898.

10. Virtues of Sport

The English upper and middle classes worshipped sport. The public schools put more onus on sporting prowess than intelligence as the history of the British Army indicates. Football. Cricket. The MCC founded 1787. The Football Association founded 1863. Rugby left The Football Association in 1863 and, in 1895, split between rugby union and rugby league. The first lawn tennis championship was held at Wimbledon in 1881.

The authors do not hesitate to quote Vitaï Lampada by Sir Henry Newbolt as absolutely everybody writing a book like this has to. It was written in 1892, the year Wilde’s first play was produced.

Bicycling became a craze in the 1890s. In a sense it was a middle class equivalent of the aristocratic habit of riding horses. The bicycle had an impact on women’s liberation because women could, quite simply, travel further and associate with more people, friends and young men.

1890s cycling women

Cycling became involved in the movement for women to wear more rational i.e. practical and flexible clothing. Wilde wrote articles about more sensible clothing for women and his wife became very involved in the movement.

The modern Olympic games were established by Baron de Coubertin in 1896.

Mountain climbing: Judge Alfred Wallis who sentenced Wilde to two years hard labour was the author of one of the best mountaineering books of the nineteenth century, Wandering Among The High Alps.

Boxing was still illegal and notoriously corrupt. The Marquess of Queensberry’s rules had been drafted as long ago as the 1860s but were only really accepted in the 1890s.

Horse racing was the sport of kings, for owners, but had a large working class following among the gambling classes. In 1874 there were 130 race courses in Britain; a decade later there were half that number, all bigger and more professional.

Rise of the sporting press and specialist journals devoted to each sport and activity. And in the 1890s the first ever filming of sporting events took place…

11. Jumbo and Sundry Diversions

Freak shows, peep shows, theatrographs, dancing bears, Astley’s Theatre at the south end of Westminster Bridge. The story of Jumbo the popular trained elephant who was sold to the American showman P.T. Barnum in 1882 but refused to leave. The story of Jumbo gets nearly as much space as Jack the Ripper and maybe rightly so.

Pubs. Londoners liked drinking, many till they became fighting drunk. Hence the Temperance Movement with its pamphlets and sermons. These emphasised grisly stories of wife beating and child abuse caused by drunkenness.

Drug addition: cocaine and the opium dens of the East End docks. Detailed description of a visit to an opium den by George Augustus Sala.

At the opposite end of the social scale, the world of gentlemen’s clubs such as the Carlton, the reform, the Garrick, the Marlborough, the Guards, the Army and Navy, and the Albemarle which Wilde was a member of. Comic account of election to a club, again by Sala.

Dancing as described in The Diary of a Nobody in 1889. Magic and magicians. Street corner Houdinis.

Public trials. The Darwinian zoologist brought a prosecution against American medium Henry Slade (1876). Whistler sued Ruskin for libel in 1877. Several adultery cases in which the Prince of Wales was scandalously compelled to appear. the 1889 prosecution of a male brothel keeper in Cleveland Street (p.259). The two trials of Oscar Wilde in 1895.

12. Juliets of a Night

Pornography and prostitution. This chapter opens with photographs of nude underage girls which, if I tried to search them online let alone included in this review, would, I think, get me arrested.

The cult of ‘the little girl’, most notoriously associated with Lewis Carroll.

The authors quote Arthur Symons, Rossetti and Wilde justifying sex with prostitutes. Visitors to London could buy guides listing locations for strip tease, prostitutes, rooms to rent, ‘introducing houses’, brothels and so on. It was a major industry.

The same territory covered in immense detail in Ronald Pearsall’s huge study ‘The Worm in the Bud’ (1969) which has lots about Victorian orgies, prostitution and fetishism. The authors give a lengthy quote explaining the situation by General Booth, founder of the Salvation Army. Excerpt from a police report of officers trying to round up prostitutes, especially children.

Commentators in politics and the Church warned that young women were corrupted by their reading hence the importance of jumping on all immoral reading matter such as the novels of Thomas Hardy or the Oscar Wilde. This was twaddle then as it is now: what propels women into prostitution is poverty, desperation and drugs, or violent coercion.

It was the famous series of articles in the Pall Mall Gazette of 1885 by William Thomas Stead titled ‘The Maiden Tribute of Modern Babylon’ that led to the raising of the age of consent from 13 to 16 under The Criminal Law Amendment Act 1885 (the same act which included the Labouchère Amendment). The authors give an extended quote.

Surprisingly the European centre of child prostitution was Brussels.

Many stolen, kidnapped or betrayed English girls of 12 to 15 years were sold to Brussels brothels. (p.248)

Sometimes history just doesn’t bear thinking about. Anyway – the London Society for the Protection of Young Females founded in 1853. Quotes from evidence given to an 1881 House of Lords enquiry on the subject. Beatrice Webb’s experience going undercover among the poor.

All this segues into descriptions of the two Wilde trials with full-page illustrations from the Illustrated Police News.

Oscar Wilde’s arrest and trial from Illustrated Police News (1895)

13.Epilogue

The three-page epilogue is in the form of a summary of the debate between Tennyson and the Liberal Prime Minister William Gladstone. In 1886 Tennyson published a poem, Locksley Hall Sixty Years After, in which he claimed, in the manner of all depressed aristocrats, that the country had gone to the dogs.

Gladstone took exception to this and wrote an article for the magazine Nineteenth Century magazine in which he set out to refute every one of Tennyson’s charges, point by point, and asserting that in very measurable way – economic, social and moral, life expectancy, working hours, support for the unemployed and so on – society was vastly superior, improved and advanced to what it had been in their youths i.e. the 1830s. A choice of temperaments. An interesting conclusion to a fact-packed but popular and entertaining book.


Related reviews

Aubrey Beardsley @ Tate Britain

Aubrey Beardsley must be the most distinctive British artist. If you see any of his mature works, they are immediately recognisable and almost always deeply satisfying, their elegance of line and composition emphasised by the stylish use of huge areas of unmediated black or white, and the sophistication of his sensually charged portrayal of the human figure.

The Black Cape, illustration for Oscar Wilde’s Salome (1893) Photo © Tate

This exhibition is a feast of Beardsleiana, bringing together 200 spectacular works to make the largest display of his original drawings in over 50 years and the first exhibition of his work at Tate since 1923.

The wall labels to the fifteen or so sections the exhibition is divided into are available online:

And it contains a detailed timeline of his career. Rather than repeat all that, I’ll just single out what were, for me, the key learnings or best bits.

Key learnings

As he turned 18 and needed a job, Beardsley got a job working in an insurance office which, as you might imagine, he hated. What other early modern ‘great’ worked in an insurance office, created a distinctive body of work, and died of tuberculosis? Franz Kafka

Arts and Crafts

It is interesting to see Beardsley’s tremendous indebtedness to Arts & Crafts ideas of total design, and the importance of intertwining flower and stem motifs. And considering he was only 19!

Withered Spring by Aubrey Beardsley (1891)

Beardsley began his career just as William Morris was producing his luxury designed books from the Kelmscott Press. The curators usefully summarise the elements of a Kelmscott production as:

  • elaborate decorated borders
  • decorated initial letters
  • full page illustration

The hair-line style

The exhibition shows how Beardsley quickly moved from this relatively ‘heavy’ line to move to the extreme opposite, to complex compositions which are covered in a crazy network of super-fine lines. The curators call this his ‘hair line’ style.

How Arthur saw the Questing Beast by Aubrey Beardsley (1893) Victoria and Albert Museum

It is also an early example of Beardsley slipping surreptitious rudeness or irrelevancies into his pictures. At the bottom left of the ‘river bank’, right up against the frame, is the silhouette of an erect penis and scrotum. Towards the top right is a concealed treble clef.

Morte d’Arthur

The picture above is one of the Morte d’Arthur series which made Beardsley’s reputation. He was commissioned to make a hefty 353 illustrations for a new edition of the Morte by publisher J.M. Dent, including full and double-page illustrations, elaborate border designs and numerous small-scale ornamental chapter headings.

However, Beardsley quickly became bored and irked by the subject limitations and began introducing extraneous elements and flights of fancy. Thus the picture above is supposed to be of a medieval knight and a dragon though you wouldn’t really think so. Most disruptive of all is the presence of a pan or satyr from Greek mythology, absolutely nothing to do with medieval legend.

Japanese influence

The exhibition includes one print by Utagawa Kuniyoshi, a lovely coloured woodblock which exemplifies the kind of Japanese influence which impacted European art from the 1870s onwards, and influenced everyone with their:

  • abstract depiction of pictorial space
  • linear intricacy
  • emphasis on flat pattern

Kakemono

kakemono is a Japanese hanging scroll used to display and exhibit paintings and calligraphy inscriptions and designs mounted usually with silk fabric edges on a flexible backing, so that it can be rolled for storage. It is a distinctly different shape from traditional Western portrait shape, and Beardsley was to incorporate it into many later works.

Mantegna

Andrea Mantegna (1431 to 1506) was a key influence for Beardsley. The Italian was famous for his frescos and murals showing parades and processions and groups of people, and Beardsley used ideas and figures and compositions from Mantegna throughout his career. Even in his last accommodation, a hotel room in the south of France, he had a set of photos of works by Mantegna pinned to his wall. Indeed Beardsley produced several Mantegna-style processions, notably The Procession of Joan of Arc which was included as a foldout supplement to the second edition of The Studio magazine in 1892.

Wagnerite

Beardsley was a keen fan of Wagner, attending productions of his operas and illustrating scenes from them. He had ambitions as a writer as well as illustrator and in his last few years worked at a text which was a comic version of the legend of Tannhäuser which Wagner had made into an opera. Given the working title of the Story of Venus and Tannhäuser, excerpts were eventually published in The Savoy magazine under the title Under The Hill, an oddly Hobbit-like title for such a grand Wagnerian subject.

Photo Lineblock

Just as important for the quick evolution of Beardsley’s style was the introduction in the 1890s of the new technology of photo lineblock printing, a photomechanical process. Beardsley was disappointed at the poor reproduction of his washes and shading using this new method, but quickly adapted and made a virtue of leaving large areas of a page completely untouched, others pure black, and ensuring the lines and patterns were crisp and clear. The result is startling.

How la Beale Isoud Wrote to Sir Tristram by Aubrey Beardsley (c.1893) Alessandra and Simon Wilson

In fact this picture is singled out by the curators as exemplifying another of Beardsley’s traits which was his extraordinary ability to assimilate influences and make them his own. Thus the curators point out in this image:

  • Isoud resembles Jane Morris, with the classic pre-Raphaelite jutting chin and mountain of frizzy hair
  • the Germanic form of the desk is borrowed from Albrecht Dürer’s engraving St Jerome in his Study
  • the flattened use of space recalls the influence of Japanese prints
  • whereas the elaborate border of intertwining flower motifs recalls Arts & Crafts designs

Salomé

In 1892 Beardsley made a drawing in response to Salomé, Oscar Wilde’s play, originally written in French and based on the biblical story. Wilde admired the drawing and he and his publisher, John Lane, chose Beardsley to illustrate the English translation of the play. Beardsley produced eighteen designs in total, of which only ten appeared in the first printing of the play. Publisher John Lane suppressed or censored three of Beardsley’s illustrations for their overt sexual references, in particular when female characters’ hands are wandering towards their privates, as if about to masturbate, or unnecessary depictions of the male characters’ phalluses.

The Climax: illustration for Oscar Wilde’s Salome (1893) by Aubrey Beardsley. Photo © Tate

The Yellow Book

The exhibition clarified the timeline around the Yellow Book, and has an entire room devoted to it. Beardsley was made its art editor at its inception in 1894 and contributed the front and back covers for the first five editions. But Beardsley was closely associated with Oscar Wilde (having contributed a suite of illustrations for Wilde’s ‘immoral’ play about Salome), and so soon after Wilde’s arrest in May 1895, Beardsley was fired from the Yellow Book.

On one of the days of his trial, Wilde was seen going into court holding a copy of the Yellow Book and that clinched it for the angry mobs and journalists outside. The offices of the Yellow Book’s publishers, Bodley Head, were attacked by a mob who smashed its windows. In order tonsure the survival of the firm, and its staff, and the continuity of publication of the magazine and all his other titles, publisher John Lane had little choice but to distance himself from Beardsley. The sixth volume, of July 1895, still had the cover and several illustrations by Beardsley but he no longer worked for it. (Later it transpired that Wilde hadn’t been holding a copy of the Yellow Book at all, but a French novel, which tended to be published with yellow covers.)

The Yellow Book Volume I (1894) bound volume. Photo © Tate

It looks as if you can examine every volume of the Yellow Book, all its literary and art contents, online

The room has an example of all five volumes of the Yellow Book that Beardsley was involved with. I’ve read about it ever since I was a teenager at school forty years ago, but I don’t think I’d ever seen a copy before and certainly not six. I’d always envisioned it as magazine-size, but it does indeed look like a hardback book, in size and shape and leather binding.

Beardsley’s work desk

The exhibition includes the very table or desk which Beardsley used during his glory years. Standing a few feet from it, it is hard to imagine that the man produced all these pitch-perfect works without the aid of architects’ tools or computers – just him, a ruler and a pen.

Beardsley’s address

With the money he made from the Salome illustrations and a small legacy Beardsley bought a house at 111 Cambridge Street, Pimlico with his mother and sister, Mabel, to both of whom he remained very close throughout his short life. Only a few hundred yards from Tate Britain where this exhibition is being held…

Oscar Wilde

Wilde was an established writer when he saw the first of Beardsley’s drawings and immediately liked them. He approved the suggestion that Beardsley illustrate the original French version of Salomé and they socialised. So far, so well known. I hadn’t realised that Beardsley satirised Wilde quite so much. There are straightforward lampoons of the increasingly fat and pompous aesthete, but he also slyly slips Wilde’s epicene features into numerous other illustrations, in one giving the moon the eyes and nose of Wilde.

The Woman in the Moon by Aubrey Beardsley (1894)

The Rape of The Lock

This is the title of Alexander Pope’s mock-heroic 18th century satire. I suppose it’s worth clarifying that ‘rape’ in the title doesn’t mean rape in our modern sense, but the older sense of ‘theft’ or stealing away. Thus Pope conceived an extended poem which uses all the devices and machinery of the classical epic to describe how one jaded aristocrat cuts a lock of hair from the head of another jaded aristocrat, and this leads to a feud between their families. Believe it or not this elaborate literary joke extends to five cantos with many extended scenes. Beardsley created nine photo-engravings for an 1896 republication of the poem, five of which are on display here for the first time.

Beardsley had been a fan of 18th century rococo prints, maybe because they – like him – are sophisticated, worldly, stylish and much more open about sexuality than the Victorians. The exhibition shows us some of the original 18th century prints which Beardsley bought at auction in Paris, and then goes on to show all the Pope pictures.

The Dream by Aubrey Beardsley (1896) The J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles

What’s immediately obvious is the that the stark clarity of the Salome illustrations has been abandoned for a much more elaborate style, characterised above all by the stippling that creates a sort of lace doily effect on almost all the fabrics. And look at the patterning of the carpet. A long way from the stark black and white of the Salome illustrations. Many critics thought these his best works as an illustrator.

Posters

The 1890s were the glory decade for poster design in Paris, led by Henri Toulouse-Lautrec and Jules Chéret. I didn’t realise Beardsley produced a number of posters which modified his own style to take on board the need for a) size b) colour.

There’s a room devoted to half a dozen of his posters, none of which match the quality of Lautre or Chéret, and most of which are advertiser’s promotions of new ranges of childrens books or books by women, alongside promotional posters for The Yellow Book and several plays and operas. The section contains the telling quote:

I have no great care for colour, but [in posters] colour is essential.

‘I have no great care for colour’. Worth pondering. And relevant to the one and only oil painting Beardsley is known to have made.

Oil painting

There’s a rare outing for Beardsley’s only oil painting and you can see why – it’s rubbish. His entire style was built around absences, around huge areas of untouched whiteness. Trying to translate that into oil, which specialises in depth and shadow, was a hopeless task.

Porn

After Beardsley was sacked from The Yellow Book, almost the only publisher who would use his drawings was Leonard Smithers. Smithers operated on the fringes of the rare book trade, issuing small, clandestine editions of risqué books with the boast: ‘I will publish the things the others are afraid to touch’. Smithers encouraged Beardsley’s already growing interest in risqué French, Latin and Greek texts and commissioned drawings to illustrate the Satires of the late Roman poet Juvenal and, most famously, Aristophanes’s bawdy satirical play Lysistrata.

In Lysistrata the women of Athens go on a sex strike, refusing to have sex with their menfolk until they stop the ridiculous war against Sparta. Beardsley made eight outrageously sexual illustrations for Smithers’ edition. Among other subjects, this is the set which includes start, beautifully made black and white line drawings of ancient Greeks with humongous erect penises. Maybe if you’re very young or innocent these are ‘shocking’ images, but to the modern viewer they are vaguely reassuring, certainly humorous. The two figures on the right are mildly realistic but it’s the guy on the left who gets the attention, not because of his phallus as such but because the entire character is obviously created for grotesque comedy.

Illustration for Lysistrata by Aubrey Beardsley (1896)

The grotesque

He knew he was attracted to ‘the grotesque’ and there is a wall label which usefully explains the origins of the grotesque in art. Grotesque originally referred to the decoration of grottos, and came to denote the depiction of deliberately hybrid and monstrous forms, which often combined body parts from different animals, like a centaur or mermaid. As the man himself said:

I see everything in a grotesque way. When I go to the theatre, for example, things shape themselves before my eyes just as I draw them. .. They all seem weird and strange to me. Things have always impressed me in this way.

Foetuses

Nobody knows to this day why he drew so many foetuses, either as insets in frames or as characters in the more grotesque illustrations. Maybe it was simply because they are a kind of quintessence of the grotesque.

My favourite

Venus framed by two statues of male gods in the form of herms (a sculpture with a head and perhaps a torso above a plain, usually squared lower section’). I like it because of its formal precision, its symmetry which is, however, broken by the asymmetric sway of Venus’s long dress. I like it because there is no indecency, boobs or penises in sight. Instead there is a sense of genuine menace from the devil eyes of the two herms. And I like it because it is a kind of reversion or revisiting of the Arts & Crafts theme of incredibly ornately interwoven bushes, stems and flowers of (I think) roses. But mostly because it is a pleasingly complete, formal, complex and rather threatening image.

Venus between Terminal Gods (1895) Drawing with india ink by Aubrey Beardsley. The Cecil Higgins Art Gallery, Bedford

Walter Sickert

Almost the best thing in the exhibition is the full-length portrait painting of Beardsley made by the English painter Walter Sickert, after they’d both attended a commemoration ceremony for John Keats. Its sketchy unfinished quality makes it a haunting gesture to the memory of the dandy and artist who died aged just 25.

Aubrey Beardsley by Walter Sickert (1894)

Crucifix

The exhibition includes the last photo of Beardsley, taken in the hotel room in the Hotel Cosmopolitain in Menton where he had gone in search of a warmer dryer climate which would be more favourable to his tuberculosis. The photo shows Beardsley looking tremendously smart in a suit and well-polished shoes opposite a wall on which are pinned reproductions of his beloved Mantegna, and a mantelpiece on which sits a crucifix.

Because although I’ve probably read it numerous times, I’d forgotten that in his last months Beardsley converted to Catholicism. He died holding a crucifix. Just a few days before he died he wrote a letter to Leonard Smithers asking him to destroy all of Beardsley’s risqué images, the Lysistrata illustrations etc. Smithers refused and so they were saved for generations of schoolboys to giggle over.

Who does a deathbed request to destroy his works which its address completely ignored remind you of? Franz Kafka.

Film

There is a room with benches so you can watch Charles Bryant and Alla Nazimova’s 1923 silent movie version of Salomé immediately following the room of Beardsley’s illustrations. For some reason the gallery lights had been left on full power in this room which made it harder to see the image on the screen.

Legacy

The exhibition closes with a sketchy overview of Beardsley’s legacy from his influence on the long sinuous lines of Art Nouveau via a string of now mostly forgotten book illustrators who copied his style (Harry Clarke, Hans Henning Voigt) through the revival of Beardley’s reputation and style which was sparked by a major retrospective of his work at the Victoria and Albert Museum in 1966 which led to the incorporation of Beardsleyesque black and white swirling lines into lots of psychedelic posters and, most famously of all, into the portrait of the four Beatles in the cover art for their LP Revolver.

Portrait of Aubrey Beardsley 1893 by Frederick Evans. Wilson Centre for Photography

This is a long, very thorough, exhaustive and informative exhibition about a truly world class and utterly distinctive English artist.


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