In the portrait of Frederick Leyland, the "Medici of Liverpool" (painted 1873), Whistler, for the first time, introduced the plain background without accessories, endeavouring to subordinate it to the figure. In the portrait the figure occupies the entire length of the canvas, and yet is enveloped in atmosphere. I believe this is largely due to the vagueness of outline and the accentuation of the principal points of the human form by touches of light, as the headlights on the silver buckle of the shoe, the hand on the hip and the gray overcoat over the left arm. The blacks in this picture have a marvellous quality. The painting of a black evening suit against a pitch black background is one of the masterpieces of modern technique, over which future ages will not cease to marvel. Also the shadow on the grey floor helps. The pose is dignity itself, but it seems to me that the artist did not quite succeed in carrying out his own ideal. The figure makes the impression as if it were stepping out of the picture, like a Rubens.
The same problem occupied him for years. He succeeded much better in the "Rose Corder" and "The Fur Jacket;" and in the "Lady Archibald Campbell," also called the "Yellow Buskin," he actually solved the problem. The picture is at the Wilstach Gallery, Philadelphia, and everybody who has seen it will realize, or feel, at least, that the figure is represented as if actually moving in space.
Most of his pictures were painted in ordinary rooms, without a top light, partly, no doubt, because he wanted to paint his sitters under natural, not artificial conditions. Also the "Rose Corder" portrait, painted in 1876, carries out this sensation. This portrait, which was purchased by Richard A. Canfield from its former owner, Graham Robertson, is entitled "An Arrangement in Black and Brown." The differentiation of brown in the hair, fur, felt hat, feather and floor are so subtle and beautiful, that it would be almost impossible to go any further in the exploitation of one colour. The person who can appreciate the subtleties of these cool, almost neutral colours, appreciates Whistler. It was his main ambition, even to that extent that he wished the beholder to know of his intention. And that is no doubt the main reason why he called his portraits "Arrangements and Harmonies," even as other artists call their portraits "Interpretations," and their sculptured busts "Versions." Titles are really of no importance. They are, at the best, only annotations, but, as long as they are deemed necessary, they ought to give a vague suggestion of the subject matter or reveal the technical aim of the painter. Whistler's titles are frequently too long, but they generally convey some direct and valuable information to the beholder.