Visual poetry

It could so easily not have worked, this bold (some might say foolhardy) juxtaposition of three such dissimilar artists. Particularly if one of them was felt to be somehow of inferior power — the sick man of the trio — a position which might have been reserved (by those who judge from ignorance) for James Abbott McNeill Whistler (1834–1903). What a mistake that would have been, and what a triumph this exhibition turns out to be. It has been superlatively hung and installed in the Tate’s often unfriendly basement galleries, and is an absolute joy to look at. There are a hundred paintings, prints, pastels and watercolours on show, and they deserve the tribute of repeated visits, if you can stomach the crowds which will undoubtedly flock to any exhibition with the name Monet in it. Advance tickets are already selling well. Admission is a fairly hefty £10, so it’s almost worth becoming a Tate Member (from £49).