The Artist Formerly Known As Whistler

When James Whistler was two years old, he was asked why he’d disappeared from company and hidden under a table. ‘I’s drawrin,’ he replied. He started as he meant to go on. Daniel E. Sutherland’s well-appointed new biography of the American-born painter — whom Henry James described as a ‘queer little Londonised Southerner’ — keeps the attention there, making its central emphasis Whistler’s ferocious single-mindedness in the making of his art.

The striking thing is how much the other aspects of him — Whistler the rebel, Whistler the public combatant, Whistler the philanderer, the dandy, the show-off, the semi-delinquent father, the wit and conversationalist — fed into that rather than distracting from it. His dedication to art did not entail a retreat from the world but, rather, an energised engagement with it.

Whistler in this account seems both worldly and unworldly in different ways. He was hopeless with money and despite that, or only in part because of it, he was very interested in getting it.