[nb-NO]Object number[nb-NO]
1991.1016.111.3
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Letter dated 29th December 1897 covering seven sides of paper from Philip Norman to Emery Walker. Norman mentions the imminent closure of the Kelmscott Press and requests a copy of its last published work, by William Morris. He also requests from EW a memento of Morris. Letter also includes a passage on the nature of art. Found inserted in the book, London Vanished and Vanishing by Norman, Philip, when acquired by the museum, shelf J21. Part of the Emery Walker Library.
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London
[nb-NO]Date[nb-NO]
1897-12-29 - 1897-12-29
[nb-NO]Production period[nb-NO]
Arts & Crafts, 20th century
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[nb-NO]Material[nb-NO]
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Letter from Philip Norman to Emery Walker dated 29th December 1897. Found in London Vanished and Vanishing by Philip Norman
Dec 29th 1897
Chelsfield House,
Chelsfield
Dear Emery Walker,
As I have seen so little of you of late, and as I am reminded that the old year is fast coming to an end, I am tempted to write you a few lines. I notice from paragraphs in the newspapers that the Kelmscott press will shortly be closed and that its last issue is some sort of note by William Morris on his work as an artist or as an art manufacturer. Whatever it is I should certainly like to have a copy. Perhaps you could kindly tell Cockerell[i] or the person who has the management. Some time ago you said that you could get me some little memento of your lost friend, for whom I had a deep regard and admiration. Certainly I should value anything connected with him, a little scrap of his handwriting for instance. Perhaps this is what I should like best. It happens that he never wrote to me. If he had I should certainly have kept the letter. The only time I ever saw his writing was when I looked over the manuscript of that little pamphlet on Westminster Abbey which was sold at a nominal price and of which I have some eight or ten copies. If you want one it is very much at your service.
I am staying with a brother in the country for a few days. Yesterday I went over to see Sir John Lubbock[ii] whom I have known as long as I can remember anything, though I seldom see him now. He showed me his phonograph which he uses for correspondence, in preference to a shorthand writer, as he says that he can dictate his letters into it at odd times. Certainly the delicacy of the instrument is marvellous. When one looks at the wax cylinder the indentations are hardly visible, and yet it can give the effect of a band playing and one can distinguish the different instruments. Something may also be said for the delicacy of the human ear.
He also showed me Babylonish records (but these I was obliged to take on trust) They were heiroglyphics on slabs, in one case on a cylinder of baked clay. This last was a banking account, the others, he said, were leases of house property, showing a high state of civilization; and yet how utterly it passed away. Is it possible that our civilization also can pass away? Hardly, I think, unless, [some] in the dim future, some great change [Transcriber note: letter now continues on the second sheet of notepaper] were to take place in the earth, I mean in its climate or configuration – but this is a part of infinity or implies infinity about which one need not trouble oneself.
I have been looking over essays by W J Stillman[iii], on Ruskin, the decay of Art & the revival of Art [inserted] &C, which are not bad in their way. He rather depressed me, (when I remembered my little attempts to imitate nature), by saying: - “Fact – which is accident, fidelity of nature to use the common term – is the negation of the ideal & the extinction of the perception of the beautiful which are in turn the highest witnesses of modern the spiritual life”. Again, “The ideal of art is the perfection of form but in nature all forms are accidental and imperfect”; and “That which makes art what it is, as art, has absolutely nothing to do with the phenomena of nature – The end of art as art is decoration”.
I feel that there is a great deal of truth in this, and that most modern pictures are terribly wanting in decorative quality, being often painted by men who have no feeling for decoration, who are in truth not artists at all. Then I read Stillman’s definition of art and I comforted myself with the hope that I might be smuggled in at the tail end of those who may at least work with a clear conscience. “Art is the harmonic expression of human emotion”. That seems to include most forms of realistic painting. If one feels strongly the charm and interest of a subject, and if one puts that feeling into one’s work, one must be doing something which is not unworthy, [unreadable, perhaps a correction] perhaps convey one’s feelings [inserted] to others.
There – I have inflicted quite a long letter on you, which I did not intend. Please do not take the trouble to reply to it. With best wishes for the new year, Believe me
Yours very sincerely
Philip Norman[]
[Footnotes:
[i] Sir Sydney Cockerell (1867 – 1962), collector and curator of the Fitzwilliam Museum in Cambridge from 1908 to 1937, was Secretary of the Kelmscott Press from 1894 until its closure.
[ii]Sir John Lubbock (1834 – 1913), 1st Baron Avebury, was a banker, Liberal politician, philanthropist, scientist and polymath.
[iii]William James Stillman (1828 – 1901) was, among a number of other things, an artist and friend of John Ruskin.
[iv]Philip E Norman (1842 – 1931) was an artist, author and antiquary CAW]