734. Shakespeare in New York and Beyond (2)

Last week, I wrote about John Lane's advertisement in The International Studio. Of course, that magazine was not his only publicity channel. Steven Halliwell sent me scans of two other publications in which The Vale Shakespeare is mentioned.

John Lane's Bodley Head Bulletin, February 1900
[scan by Steven Halliwell]

John Lane's Bodley Head Bulletin for February 1900 is an eight-page leaflet (26 x 19,5 cm), published in New York. It contains two paragraphs on 'The Vale Press' and 'A New Edition of Shakespeare'. They urge readers to subscribe to the 36-volume set as soon as possible. The brochure then goes on to discuss a Bodley Head publication containing poems by Stephen Phillips, who was a popular poet and playwright at the time.

John Lane's Bodley Head Bulletin, February 1900
[scan by Steven Halliwell]

Another relevant leaflet was dated 15 March 1900, also published in New York: Spring Announcements. This four-page list (24 x 15 cm) briefly mentions The Vale Shakespeare.

John Lane's Spring Announcements, 15 March 1900
[scan provided by Steven Halliwell]

The list serves as an order form. 

These two publications were not typeset in Vale type and printed in London by the Ballantyne Press, but were produced in New York. There will have been other publications in which John Lane attempted to promote sales of The Vale Shakespeare.

[Thanks are due to Steven Halliwell for drawing attention to these leaflets and kindly providing scans.]

733. Shakespeare in New York and Beyond

One hundred copies of the Vale Press edition of the Plays of Shakespeare were set aside for the American market. They were sold by John Lane from his New York office at 251 Fifth Avenue. 

Each Play will be issued in a single demy 8vo volume, bound in cloth and stamped in blind from a design by Mr. Ricketts.

Two special lists were set in Vale Type by the Ballantyne Press in London and printed on Vale Press paper. They were shipped to America and distributed by John Lane. (These are now exceedingly rare. If you have a copy, please let me know.) 

But that was not all. He also had them photographed and published in the American counterpart to The Studio, which he published. The International Studio contained articles published by The Studio a month before (usually adding some American news). The March 1900 issue, for example, opened with the article that had appeared in London in February. Advertisements were included at the front and back of the issues.

The International Studio, March 1900 (cover)

The sections containing advertisements were entirely focused on the American market, with promotional material from, for example, The New York School of Art, Ida J. Burgess from Chicago, The London Art Publishers from Philadelphia, Foster Bothers in Boston, The National Correspondence School of Indianapolis and the Art Academy of Cincinnati. There were some London art adverts as well.

Four of the sixteen advertising pages in the March 1900 issue were used by John Lane to advertise the Vale Press and Vale Shakespeare.

The International Studio, March 1900 (page Ad VIII)

The first page—at the front of the issue—focused on the Shakespeare publication.

The International Studio, March 1900 (page Ad XIV: detail)

The three pages at the back emphasised that although copies of the previously published Vale Press editions were still available, stocks would soon be exhausted.

The International Studio, March 1900 (page Ad XVI: detail)

The fourth and last page of the original list was omitted here. It mentioned prices of the Pre-Vale editions and contained a list of editions that were sold out in both London and New York, but of which copies occasionally became available.

In this (for him) inexpensive way, John Lane effectively spread the message about the Vale Shakespeare throughout America.

732. The Garland

Several catalogues of Charles Shannon's lithographs have been published. Between 1889 and 1898, fifty-four lithographs were issued. In 1902, Charles Ricketts compiled the first catalogue, announcing that Shannon had given up lithography. 

But Shannon returned to the lithographic stone in 1904, printing another twenty-nine lithographs, abandoning the medium in 1909. In 1914 a second catalogue was published by Georges Derry (pseudonym of R.A. Walker) who described the lithographs that were made between 1904 and 1909. 

Again, Shannon took up lithography in 1917, and produced another thirteen lithographs. In 1920 Derry (Walker) produced a new catalogue covering most of the latter batch, and finally, in 1978, Paul Delaney published the definitive catalogue of Shannon's lithographs.

Some of these have smaller edition sizes than others, and consequently have been less reproduced in publications, auction catalogues, or in online presentations of museum collections. One rarely seen print is 'The Garland' from 1918.

A copy is in the collection of the Rijksmuseum (Amsterdam) and published on their website (find the print on Rijksmuseum.nl).

Charles Shannon, 'The Garland' (lithograph, 1918)

[Collection Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam: RP-P-1949-308]

There was an edition of 25 impressions in sanguine, or in grey-black, or in brown, 35,6 x 20,4 cm, initialled CS in the stone. The Rijksmuseum copy is in grey-black.

This lithograph was not listed by Derry. However, an earlier unpublished version from 1906 was described as follows:

Two nude women  are putting up a garland; one is standing on a stool and stretches up to hang the garland over the top of a door, and the other stands on the ground and supports her. A small child  on the right is holding a wreath and watching the others. 

A trial proof (one of only three copies) of the earlier version is in the collection of the British Museum. Twelve years passed between that first version and the second.

Charles Shannon, 'The Garland' (lithograph, trial proof, 1906)
[Collection The British Museum, London: 1913,0814.54]
[© The Trustees of the British Museum.
Shared under a
Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) licence]

731. A Lady in a Striped Shirt (Helen Lawson)

Some time ago, I received a mail from Belgium about a hitherto unrecorded portrait by Charles Shannon depicting a lady in a striped shirt. It came from a collection in the city of Roeselaere. Last week it was sold at auction by Aubrey's Auctioneers; hammer price £8,000.

Charles Shannon, portrait of a lady in a striped shirt, 1915

The oil on canvas was not a small painting or sketch, measuring 75 x 61 cm, in a red and gilt frame. Signed and dated, it was finished in 1915.

Charles Shannon, portrait of a lady in a striped shirt, 1915

There is a label on the back with the name of James Bourlet & Sons., Ltd., a firm of fine art packers and framers.

The auctioneer's description reads:

A portrait painting depicting a young woman with androgynous charm, seated with her chin resting on her hand, her other hand holding pansies, gazing directly at the viewer with a soft introspective expression, she wears a coral and white striped blouse with voluminous sleeves, partially covered by a dark shawl, complimented by her cabochon coral and gold ring, she wears a black feathered toque style hat, her reflection in a circular mirror behind her, signed and dated 1915 to lower right, oil on canvas, 75 x 61 cm

(Jewellery, Art & Antiques. Guildford, Surrey: Aubrey’s Auctioneers, 31 July 2025, lot 139).

Note, 6 August 2025:

The painting has now been identified as being the portrait of ‘Miss Helen Lawson (Lady with a Coral Ring)’. As such, it was listed by 'Tis' [Herbert Furst] in Charles Shannon, A.R.A. An Essay. London, Colour Ltd., [1920]. (Masters of Modern Art), p. 7. At the time, the painting was owned by P.J. Ford. It had been exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1916. Frank Rutter mentioned it in The Sunday Times, 30 April 1916 (‘The Academy. A Portrait Year'): 'Mr. Charles Shannon shows several small square portraits of women's heads, admirable in placing and arrangement, fine in quality and harmonious, if rather low and sombre in colour. Their fanciful titles, "The Lady with a Coral Ring" (119), "The Lady in a Black Hat" (483), and "The Lady with the Amethyst" (524), suitably express the painter’s romantic and decorative intentions.' (Thanks are due to John Aplin for sending me some reviews of the exhibition.)

730. Drawings for Unrecorded Histories (5)

The sheet containing the five sketches for the illustrations in Unrecorded Histories (British Museum collection) does not include one for the story ‘The Pavilion of the Winds’ about Solomon and the Queen of Sheba. 

The fifth and final sketch is for another story, 'The Last Guest', which takes place in the house of Lepidus, a friend of Caesar. As in the previous story ('A Morning in Spring'), Caesar's imminent death plays a role, in this case he appears at the house of his friend, the evening before he is murdered. 

This - the approaching, inevitable death - was clearly a subject that fascinated Ricketts. He often painted figures shortly before or after the ultimate moment: Montezuma, Christ, Cleopatra, Don Juan and others, time and time again.

The basic premise of this story is Ricketts' idea that historians have placed too much emphasis on Caesar as a military leader and politician and have forgotten 'the art and beauty-loving Caesar who wrote epigrams and plays'.

Charles Ricketts, 'The Last Guest'

The uncultured host has gathered a motley company of businessmen, orators and poets, some of whom are of Greek origin, such as Agathon. A separate table is set for Caesar so that he can continue his work as a statesman during the meal and the discussions (dictating a letter, listening to a messenger). However, though the meal is progressing, Caesar has not yet arrived.

Agathon talks about the effect of thunder on the growth of truffles, which are said to be half animal and half plant. Many of the guests eagerly speculate on this topic. The doctor in the company responds soberly:

Be the truffle animal or vegetable, I think that storms, by their torrential rain, merely uncover their hiding place without need of intervention from the thunderbolts of Zeus.

The doctor seems to be the voice of Ricketts, who speaks about ageing:

[...] age calms the force of our passions, even the passion of love; how much more does it affect our power to hate! which experience of life commonly softens. [...] I even hold that old enemies may sometimes be preferable to new friends.

Ricketts, who in his youth had declared many artists and critics his enemies, later realised that these 'frenemies' were perhaps closer to him than others.

During the conversation about friendship and love - ('Let a youth acquire knowledge of the pleasures of the bed from a young boy slave, this saves him from the snares of venal harlots [...]'), - Caesar quietly enters.

Charles Ricketts, sketch for Unrecorded Histories
[Collection British Museum: 1946,0209.122]
[Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license]
[© With permission of the executors of the Charles Ricketts estate,
Leonie Sturge-Moore and the heirs of Charmain O'Neil]

The illustration shows his arrival, or, perhaps his later departure.

The Emperor paused to hear; then, with a salutation of the hand towards his host and fellow guests, he sank upon his couch and chose some simple food from the onyx table before him.

The physician wondered, 'how long would Caesar have to live', because of his 'transparent hands' and his thinning hair. However, his eyes 'had a fixed inner light like the glance of a hawk'.

The discussion continues about the soul, and the physician says that the soul is part of the body and cannot live on its own. Meanwhile, Caesar silently responds to several messages, including one from his wife, who is worried because of the late hour and a prophetic dream about the Ides of March.

The lateness of the hour, and something disquieting in the behaviour of the Emperor had affected the guests [...]

No wonder, because some of the guests were in on the plot to kill him.

After the physician repeats his opinion - 'To me the Soul can never be immortal, it dies with the brain' - the discussion turns to death.

Suddenly Caesar stands up and as he leaves, his host asks him what he thinks is the best way to die. His words end the story:

The Swiftest, the most unforeseen!

729. Drawings for Unrecorded Histories (4)

The second story in Unrecorded Histories (1933) is called 'A Morning in Spring' and takes place on the day Caesar was assassinated in 42 BC. According to Ricketts's fancy, Cleopatra, who had been living in Rome for two years in the palace of the autocrat, had bought a small villa near the capital, where she secretly returned after Caesar had sent her back to Egypt. Here she would receive her new lover, Marc Antony.

Cleopatra, despite her veneer of Greek culture, had a profound belief in magic, fostered by her old nurse Tui, and Amenothes was almost the ruler of the queen's household.

He, her 'Egyptian soothsayer', used coloured sands and small idols to predict the future, and the signs were obscure: 'Absence and departure'. The absence turned out to be Julius Caesar's who was murdered that morning. The departure was Cleopatra's who subsequently escaped to Egypt. Thus, her absence from Rome was also predicted by Amenothes.

Marc Antony had sent a letter because he was delayed. Cleopatra feared that the 'absence' meant he would not arrive at all.

Charles Ricketts, 'A Morning in Spring'

They were not yet lovers, apparently. While she reclined on a silver couch, she mused about his body:

What would the naked Antony look like? Well enough, for he had kept his body in athletic condition.

Presently, he arrived:

Cleopatra did not listen to his explanations. She merely noted the small beads of sweat upon his full brow, crowned with a matted pelt of auburn hair, his superb neck and his physical splendour which the loose-fitting tunic did not conceal.

The servants withdrew and Marc Antony 'mounted the silver couch'.

With delicate laughter his mistress unfastened  the fibulae of his tunic [...] the lovers embraced and became united.

They did not take heed of a young black servant, 'cup in hand filled with wine-drenched snow'.

The illustration shows the silver couch and Cleopatra, the servant holding the cup, and the naked Marc Antony who 'began to put on his tunic' after a debate about the question who of them would follow or not follow the other. Ricketts's illustration confuses the moments of the attendance by the servant and Antony who was getting dressed. Unless, of course Ricketts meant to illustrate the fact that the servant stood by while their lovemaking was in progress and their discussion endured. However, the gesture seems to be that of a servant presenting a drink, not of someone who has been standing there for an hour waiting.

Finally, the message of Caesar's murder arrived, and Antony looked on as Cleopatra was brought to safety by her servants.

Already his mistress was being carried to the garden threshold, when she stretched out her lovely arms and cried:

'Farewell, farewell for ever!...

Forget Cleopatra.'

Of course, in reality they were reunited, and Cleopatra would bear him three children.

Charles Ricketts,  sketch for Unrecorded Histories
[Collection British Museum: 1946,0209.122]
[Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license]
[© With permission of the executors of the Charles Ricketts estate,
Leonie Sturge-Moore and the heirs of Charmain O'Neil]

The original drawing for the illustration is rather messy, and the servant seems not to hold anything, or turn his head to the left. Ricketts's portrait of the servant is rather stereotypical for a black man, while his portraits of Marc Antony - his face is invisible - and Cleopatra - her famous nose is not depicted - are more general in character.

728. Drawings for Unrecorded Histories (3)

The only surviving moving images of Charles Ricketts show him quickly closing his mouth when he laughed to prevent the viewer from seeing his bad teeth. It is precisely with such a scene that the story of Joséphine de Beauharnais and Napoleon begins in Unrecorded Histories. Joséphine, after eating some sweets (intended for her guests), uses a different trick:

Madame de Beauharnais smiled often and well, it was one of her many attractions, but she smiled with a graceful downward movement of the head to conceal this blemish.

The story, called 'The Sword', is set in the circular boudoir in Joséphine's house in around 1795, just before Napoleon would propose marriage to her (in Unrecorded Histories, her name is consistently spelled without an acute accent). Ricketts describes her hairstyle and dress and the room in which she and her daughter wait for visitors. The furniture belongs to the reign of Louis XVI,

[...] it had been given a touch of fashion by the addition of jonquil-coloured curtains and a long swan-headed couch, on which Madame de Beauharnais reclined toying with the sweets on a gilded tripod by her side.

Charles Ricketts, 'The Sword'

Ricketts's illustration shows the swan-headed bench, but the tripod is out of view. The curtains are suggested by semi-circles that hang down from the ceiling.

In several stories in this posthumous collection, Ricketts openly introduces homosexual characters (whereas he used to be very secretive about sex). In this story, one of the guests enters with 'a youth of extraordinary beauty', who 'passed as his nephew, some said his son, others his latest favourite'. 

His beige-coloured tights and myrtle-green coat moulded every line of his body, and from his prim-rose coloured waistcoat hung a collection of chains, watches and seals. Yes, Achilles was beautiful, thought Josephine, who adored beauty [...]

After greeting the hostess, Achilles 'leant languidly against a mirror, where he looked like Narcissus tired of his own reflection. [The book contains the spelling error ‘liked’ instead of ‘like.’] 

In the illustration, Achilles is the figure on the right. The two figures on the left are a rich manufacturer, Lucien Tillleux, who kisses her hand, and 'a rich profiteer', Népomucène Théoleyre, who holds 'a dwarf myrtle plant in a Sèvres pot'. A striking difference between the sketch and the illustration is the raised hand holding the flower pot, which does not appear in the sketch.

The conversation about the uncertain political situation – in which France seemed to be developing a need for a sword – reminds the hostess of her uncertain times after the Revolution, when she was imprisoned and her first husband was guillotined. This goes completely over Achilles' head, who acts like 'all beautiful young animals', and seems to have become infatuated with Joséphine's daughter. Meanwhile, one of the other visitors, Théoleyre, is fascinated by Achilles' beauty, which makes his patron La Chèze uneasy.

Charles Ricketts,  sketch for Unrecorded Histories
[Collection British Museum: 1946,0209.122]
[Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license]
[© With permission of the executors of the Charles Ricketts estate,
Leonie Sturge-Moore and the heirs of Charmain O'Neil]

The conversation focuses on the incompetence of the state's leaders, including the promoted general, who, as soon as his qualities are questioned, is announced by the manservant, and thus Napoleon enters the story in the final lines - the future emperor and husband  of Joséphine.

There is not much action in the stories in this collection; most of them consist of conversation and the exchange of ideas; the scenes Ricketts drew are therefore static. Here, he selected the moment when two guests enter and a third stands aside, grouped around the hostess. It is also interesting that Ricketts never seems to depict the most famous characters, such as Nero (in 'The New God') or, here, Napoleon.

727. Drawings for Unrecorded Histories (2)

Some illustrations in Unrecorded Histories are pure silhouette drawings, but the first drawing in the book - see last week's blog - contains elements that are not just positive or negative shapes, with areas that appear to be drawn in, such as the balcony, and the window shutters. The illustration accompanying the story 'The New God' likewise contains such elements, especially on the wall, where decorative areas have been drawn, and on the floor, where the contours of a carpet or of marble stones have been sketched.

Charles Ricketts, 'The New God'

At the beginning of the story, Seneca retreats to a small office in Nero's palace, a cool room where the sound of a water organ can be heard. The murals from the time of Tiberius 'represented the Loves of Venus' - one such scene is visible at the upper-hand side. Seneca is seated in the centre, having sunk 'wearily into a chair'.

In the small sketch Ricketts made in 1930, the scene on the wall is difficult to identify; the final illustration shows Venus and Adonis - Cupid hovers in the air to their left.

Charles Ricketts,  sketch for Unrecorded Histories
[Collection British Museum: 1946,0209.122]
[Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license]
[© With permission of the executors of the Charles Ricketts estate,
Leonie Sturge-Moore and the heirs of Charmain O'Neil]

The figure pointing upwards (to the left of Seneca) is a prisoner: 'Some call him Saul, others name him Paul.' Paul tells him about his master, Jesus, but Seneca cannot quite follow him. He thinks 'that Paul had no new message; his was the worship of some obscure dual deity, and one of those Asiatic cults that were countless.' Seneca is baffled by the idea of 'One True God':

Nature, Life gave no hint of any guiding purpose. Each separate part seemed at war with each. Nature, like Nero, sometimes disguised her cruelty with beauty.

Nero enters, moist with sweat after a ball game.

The apostle remained silent, he beheld before him the terrible master of the World, the beast of Rome, the vessel of all known abominations who, at that moment, was proffering his naked buttocks to be powdered by his slaves.

Nero - who is charmed by Paul's phrase 'Circumcision of the Spirit' - decides to read one his poems:

I will read you the passage where Venus entreats Adonis, as yet unknowing of his coming death.

Venus tries to persuade 'the reluctant Youth' to take action: 

when grief has blinded and removed from sight

the vision of that limb, whose gentle use

the goddess craved and sought in vain to stir,

between those marble thighs; which cruel fate

will dash with purple drawn from lovely veins

that knew not yet the ardent pulse of Love.

Finally, Nero asks Paul which Goddess 'your Christ' resisted.

Interestingly, Ricketts does not show the meeting between the apostle and Nero in the presence of Seneca, but only the weary, pensive Seneca listening to the stubborn apostle.

726. Drawings for Unrecorded Histories (1)

Several sketches have been preserved for the cover of the short story collection Unrecorded Histories (which would be published two years after Charles Ricketts had died), but of the six illustrations, only rudimentary sketches remain—and not even for all of them. The one on page 106 with an elephant, a servant with a fan and a naked female figure has no preliminary study that we know of. [See the remaining sketches in the collection of the British Museum].

Charles Ricketts, sheet with several sketches for book covers and illustrations
[Collection British Museum: 1946,0209.122]
[Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license]
[© With permission of the executors of the Charles Ricketts estate,
Leonie Sturge-Moore and the heirs of Charmain O'Neil]

The five sketches – the final drawings appear to have been lost – are on a sheet with other sketches for book covers, one of which must be much older: a sketch (left row, second from top) is for the collected works of W.B. Yeats, which were published from 1922 onwards. From a letter to the poet Gordon Bottomley, we know that Ricketts worked on the illustrations for his stories in December 1930:

I have also designed silhouette illustrations to 5 short tales or dialogues by J P Raymond, which I hope to engrave & publish later. 

(Letter from Charles Ricketts to Gordon Bottomley, 26 December 1930: BL Add MS 88957/1/76, f 132)

The five sketches (a sixth appears to have been erased) are approximately 7 cm in height, while the book illustrations, including the frames, measure 15 cm. Ricketts's original scheme for making wood-engravings differs greatly from the final silhouette drawings printed in terracotta.

Charles Ricketts, two sketches for Unrecorded Histories
[Collection British Museum: 1946,0209.122]
[Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license]
[© With permission of the executors of the Charles Ricketts estate,
Leonie Sturge-Moore and the heirs of Charmain O'Neil]

The two drawings at the top right are sketches for the illustrations on page 44 (left) and page 10 (right). The latter is the first illustration in the book accompanying the story “The Transit of the Gods”. The first story takes place in Rome in the late 1920s, where Greek gods gather in a private room at Bar Gréco (the Antico Caffè Greco): Hermes and Apollo arrive first, followed by Aphrodite and Zeus. Given the stifling atmosphere, they move to the café's small courtyard where they sit among orange trees in boxes and 'an unhappy palm', which figures in the illustration.

Charles Ricketts, 'The Transit of the Gods'

Aphrodite is standing to the left of the tree, Zeus on the right behind a smoking Apollo and Hermes, who is perched on a small table and also holds a cigarette. After the café closes, Hermes leaves them, and they retire to Apollo's house where his help Hyacinthus announces the unexpected arrival of 'a Jewish deity'. However, his name is not Christ or God, but  Mephistopheles:

I will not detain you on my share in the creation of the world; to a rudimentary vegetation I have added choicer flowers, richer fruit. I invented pleasure instead of lust, the arts instead of morals; but these are details.

His proposal entails that monotheism must come to an end - 'these are the days of adventure and change'. Like Beyond the Threshold, this story gives Ricketts the opportunity to reflect on love, art, beauty and the times in which he lived.

725. The Great Wave off Kanagawa

The auction catalogue Japanese Prints. Art of the Woodblock (Dreweats, 8 July 2025) contains a famous print by Katsushika Hokusai, 'Under the Wave of Kanagawa', also known as 'The Great Wave'. This particular copy comes from the collection of Thomas Sturge Moore. 

Katsushika Hokusai, 'Under the Wave of Kanagawa' (provenance: T.S. Moore)

In February of this year, Mariko Hirabayashi, published her blog about Hokusai in the collection of Ricketts and Shannon (see blog No. 706), including an image of the same print from their collection which is now in the British Museum.

Japanese Prints. Art of the Woodblock (Dreweats, 8 July 2025)

This copy of the print is 'The Property of an English Family', the provenance being: 'Thomas Sturge Moore (1870-1944); thence by descent'. It is curious to see that such a treasure once belonged to artists such as Ricketts, Shannon and Moore, who, in their early days, were keen but poor collectors. The current value is estimated a grand £80,000-£120,000.

Japanese Prints. Art of the Woodblock (Dreweats, 8 July 2025)

Note

Jan Piggott kindly provided the information that another print from the collection of T.S. Moore had been reproduced as early as 1898 in C.J. Holmes's book on Hokusai (At the Sign of  the Unicorn): 'Storm at the Foot of Fuji' (plate XI). A print of waves and yellow ships opposite Kanagawa (plate XII) came from the collection of C.H. Shannon; the book also contains four plates after original drawings from his collection. Holmes himself collected Japanese prints  (three of which were reproduced in his book).

724. A Male Nude by C.H. Shannon

Bonhams in London, in an auction of British and European Art (19 June 2025), offers two drawings by Charles Shannon in a rather carelessly described lot (see lot 8). 

Study for The Capture; Male nude study
two, one signed with initials and dated 'C S 1927' (in pencil, lower left), and inscribed 'The Capture' (in pencil, lower right); the other signed with initials (lower left)
one watercolour and pencil, the other black and white chalks
the largest 34 x 38 cm (13 3/8 x 14 15/16in). (2)
unframed

Study by Edward Joseph Paynter
British and European Art, Bonhams, 19 June 2025

The illustrations indeed show two drawings by Shannon, but also the backside of three chalk drawings by an artist whose name is not mentioned in the description, but can be identified as Edward Joseph Paynter (1870-1945). Their value is apparently considered to be minimal.

Shannon's 'Male nude study' is in black and white chalk on blue prepared paper.

Charles Shannon, Male nude study
British and European Art, Bonhams, 19 June 2025

This study depicts a naked man seen from behind. His right arm is stretched upwards as if he is reaching for something. It could be a preliminary study for the nude figure in his 1921-22 painting 'The Golden Age'. There was also a 1907 version, which was called 'an ambitious idyll with nudes and half-draped figures under trees'. (Both paintings: whereabouts unknown.)

Charles Shannon, 'The Golden Age' (1921-22)

To the right of the centre, there is a man standing in roughly the same position. After swimming, he reaches for a towel or a piece of clothing hanging over a tree branch.

723. Charles Ricketts and The Vasari Society (7)

Raphael is one of those artists whom Charles Ricketts attempted to portray in a nuanced manner in his study The Prado and Its Masterpieces (1904), partly because of the difficulty of attributing certain works to him, given that he employed such a large number of assistants. 

Other pictures which left Raphael's studio as his work are really his, though the work of the assistant and the restorer may have intervened. [...] I would advocate a more guarded way of specifying the importance of an assistant in a picture than is now prevalent.
If the design of a work (the structural element of its visible presence) belongs to the master, behind it we notice his intellectual bent, and are able to estimate the creative force which was his. The modern tendency is to recognise, if possible, evidence of an assistant's hand, find his name, and so to dismiss the work forthwith as by the master 'only in part'. This is misleading. 

(p. 104)

Ricketts described some paintings in detail, such as 'The Holy Family with the Lamb': 

[...] like most of the smaller pictures belonging to Raphael's Tuscan period, it is more mature than his more important early works, in which the elements influencing him occur in a state of perplexing fusion [...] It is free from repainting, if a little over-cleaned.

(p. 105-106)

He referred to it as

[...] a delightful idyll which curiously reveals the temper of the Renaissance; the Virgin is represented as a bland yet charming woman, the Holy Child is playing with the lamb, the symbol of his sacrifice, whilst St. Joseph leans on his traveller's staff, a charmed spectator.

(p. 106)

Nevertheless, his sympathy lay with another painting, which generally enjoyed a lower reputation, but whose workmanship he admired more: 'Portrait of a Cardinal'.

Raphael, 'Portrait of a Cardinal' (c. 1510-1511)
[The Prado, Madrid]

According to Ricketts the 'slight coldness in scale of colour' was attributable 'to the picture-cleaner'. He admired 'the delicate modelling of the mouth', while the cap and cape were painted 'with extraordinary care and breadth' (p. 106-107).

We may sometimes feel out of touch and out of love with Raphael, but with him we are never conscious of vagueness and insufficiency: touch the outer softness of his work, and we feel the pulse of a tremendous vitality.

(p. 116)

Ultimately, Ricketts wrote, the Prado's Raphael collection was too limited to form an opinion about the painter. 

In his other art historical monograph, Titian (1910), Ricketts compared Titian to Raphael:

If the unique quality in the art of Raphael might be described as an unfailing sense of rhythm, the rhythmic sense, though great in Titian, is crossed by a greater hold upon realities which he marshals into a rhythmic whole, without Raphael's tendency to transmute them into the terms of his own convention.

(p. 171) 

In his art historical writings, Ricketts focused on Raphael's paintings, but for the Vasari Society – and this was perhaps one of the appealing aspects of the undertaking – he was able to examine the painter's drawings. 

Raphael was the artist about whom he wrote the most pieces for The Vasari Society; incidentally, this series of articles only began with the Second Series in 1920. However, Ricketts's first contribution was about a drawing he ascribed to Raphael, while a footnote referred to Oskar Fischel who was of the opinion that the drawing was by Perugino. The MET, where the drawing is now kept, is a little less certain and has ascribed the drawing to the 'Workshop of Perugino' (see the MET's website).

In 1922, Ricketts devoted some paragraphs to Raphael's drawing 'Cartoon for Madonna and Child' from the collection of the British Museum.

Raphael, Drawing, cartoon (the Virgin and child)
[British Museum, London:
Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license]

Ricketts's contribution was signed 'C.R.':

In the National Gallery the unfinished Madonna, bequeathed by Miss Makintosh, commonly called the Madonna of the Tower (from the Orléans, Hope, and Rogers Collections), has been generally accepted as a Raphael, and the relation between this and the magnificent cartoon in the British Museum is manifest; in this last the rough indication of the general design is a sketch, but the treatment of the heads is intense and almost Leonardesque and full of a sense of entranced and ardent life. Unlike most of Raphael's Madonnas, the hair is not parted on the forehead, but thrown back and held by a band, as it is in the St. Catherine in the Madonna di San Sisto and in the Galatea in the Farnesina Fresco: despite this detail, and owing to surviving influences of Leonardo and even Fra Bartolomeo, the present writer would date the cartoon about 1512; there are points of similarity between the type of the Virgin and some of the Muses in the background of the Parnassus.

The British Museum now dates the drawing to 1509-1511.

In Part IV of the Second Series Ricketts very briefly discussed Raphael's 'Portrait of Himself as a Boy' (from the collection of The Ashmolean Museum):

Despite the age of the artist this exquisite drawing must be classed with the early studies made for the Coronation of the Virgin. Even under the influence of Perugino Raphael as a draughtsman was himself from the first. Here he is possessed of that tender vision and delicately tempered power which has given him his place in art.

The Ashmolean nowadays describes the drawing as 'Portrait of an unknown youth, possibly a self-portrait'.

Two more drawings from The Ashmolean were given short comments, and of one of these Ricketts wrote:

To men of Raphael's range and gift this exquisite drawing counted but as a step in the creation of yet finer things.

Ricketts not only examined every detail in a drawing, but also studied the object as a historical relic: what had happened to it since the master's hand had left it untouched? An example is his entry in Part V of the Second Series about a drawing in the collection of Windsor Castle: 'Christ Giving the Keys to Peter' (now known as 'Christ's Charge to Peter'):

Raphael, 'Christ's Charge to Peter'
[Royal Collection Trust]

The deviations in this design from the tapestry cartoon at Kensington (for which it is a study) are too conspicuous for comment, notably in the action of the Saviour, who has been drawn from some model or apprentice of Raphael's, stripped to the shirt, whilst other figures retain entirely or in part their every-day clothes. The composition is not only in reverse but is shaded from left to right; this last characteristic proves that the Windsor page - fine and vivid as it is - is not the actual original but a singularly sharp off-set from a drawing by the master, of which the study for Christ in the Louvre, identical in every stroke of the chalk, is all that is left. The Louvre fragment has been, in part, cut out and mended in the left foot and in the left sleeve. The Windsor version therefore preserves in its entirety (but in reverse) the original design which at some time has been cut up, in all probability, by some dealer.

The website of the Royal Collection Trust explains the procedure of the off-set:

The offset was made by laying a blank, slightly dampened sheet of paper over the original chalk drawing and rubbing the two, producing a reversed impression. Such offsets could be used to monitor the final effect of a composition when the end product reversed the artist’s design, as with tapestries (which are woven from the back) and prints. The present offset may have been made by Raphael for this purpose, for all his studies for the Sistine cycle are in the direction of the cartoons and not of the tapestries, but this is the only surviving example of an offset made in connection with the Sistine tapestries; other extant offsets made in Raphael's studio have no relevance to the creative process and were probably made only as records.

In Part VII of the Second Series, Ricketts devoted five lines to another study by Raphael, which contains in a great measure a 'perfect balance between his gifts of explicit draughtsmanship and enveloping charm'.

All of Ricketts's writings about Raphael show that he regarded him as one of the truly great masters of the Renaissance.

722. Charles Ricketts and The Vasari Society (6)

Charles Ricketts would write twice about Leonardo da Vinci for The Vasari Society, having previously discussed his work in his two books The Prado and Its Masterpieces and Titian. However, in these monographs, Leonardo's name is only mentioned in passing, in comparison to other painters such as Titian:

In the painting of the eyes and flesh of the little faun in the 'Bacchus and Ariadne,' the glazes have been softened with the finger tips - this softening process was also practised by Leonardo.

(Titian, 1910, p. 166)

For Part III of the Second Series (1922) of The Vasari Society Ricketts wrote three comments on sketches by Leonardo da Vinci for the 'Madonna del Gatto', two studies of the Virgin and Christ Child with a cat in the collection of the British Museum and one in the collection of Arthur Hungerford Pollen.

Leonardo da Vinci, sketches for 'The Madonna of the Cat'
At the top: Recto; Below: verso
[Collection British Museum]

The first two were on the recto and verso of one leaf, both pen and wash drawings. The Vasari series first depicts the drawing of the verso (No. 3) and then the recto (No. 4). Ricketts wrote:

In the year 1478 Leonardo began two pictures of the Virgin Mary. One of these has been identified with the Madonna del Fiore, preserved in a damaged condition in Petrograd; the second, the 'Madonna del Gatto', has been lost. Closely allied studies for both pictures are preserved in London, Paris, Florence, and in the Bonnat Collection. The two sketches, here reproduced, No. 4 [recto], with the indication of a window in the background, is so close in conception to the 'Madonna del Fiore' that it may be considered as a study in the evolution of both these early pictures alike. In the drawing No. 3 [verso], which is in part traced through, Leonardo is striving to break with the formality of design of the Petrograd picture, and the simple interrelation of the mother and child of the Madonna del Fiore is replaced by greater movement and a more complex and rhythmic sense of line and mass.

Leonardo da Vinci, 'Madonna with Child and Cat'
[private collection]
[See Wikipedia]

Ricketts wrote about the third sketch, which was then in a private collection in London and is now in New York:

This study bearing on the 'Madonna del Gatto' is more Leonardesque in workmanship and invention than the two already described. All traces of the Verrocchio atelier have vanished; in some respects it is even more mature than the Louvre design for the Adoration of the Magi. The girlish head, the bosom still placed high, would help, however, to class this drawing not later than the early 'eighties'.  In may show the final pose chosen for the Madonna del Gatto; it may also be a somewhat later improvisation on the same theme which we shall find taken up again, later still, in the Louvre sketch for the cartoon of the Virgin and St. Anne, where the cat is replaced by a lamb. 

Such was his admiration for Leonardo that he attributed a drawing in his and Shannon's possession not to the master, but to Lorenzo di Credi, even though Shannon was certain that it must be a work by Leonardo. In 1914, on the basis of new photographs, he changed his mind, saying: 'So Shannon is right and I was wrong'. Later, however, the drawing was attributed, perhaps more cautiously, to Andrea del Verrocchio, and nowadays it is considered to be the work of Fra Bartolomeo. So Shannon was also wrong. [See Fitzwilliam Museum].

A fictionalised Leonardo

Ricketts's story 'The Two Peaches' was published in Unrecorded Histories. Thomas Sturge Moore added a dedication to Charles Shannon. The book was published posthumously in 1933. This story revolves around a fictionalised Leonardo da Vinci. We will never know how Ricketts imagined Leonardo, because this is one of two (out of eight) stories in the book that lack an illustration.

In the first paragraph of the story, Ricketts expresses his admiration for the 'Messere' Leonardo da Vinci, who is called 'this incomparable man', and whose painting skills are 'without a rival'. In the second paragraph, Ricketts combines his art historical observations (see the above quotation from Titian on the use of the artist's fingertips) with his sensitive imagination about the painter's work during the Renaissance.

Shortly after dawn, for no one knew when Leonardo chose to wake or sleep, he was examining a picture of Our Lady, St. John and an Angel adoring the Holy Child in a landscape of rocks, on which he had lavished his utmost skill, even softening the texture of the flesh with his finger-tips to imitate the grain of the skin; portions of the design were still unfinished, the completion of a task tempered the fire of his imagination, causing him to abandon many things that were well begun.

(p. 59)

This last observation seems to be based in part on Ricketts's own experience, who was extremely uncertain about his talent as a painter, but this also had historical roots, because Da Vinci's clients demanded side panels, which the artist preferred to leave to local painters.

The painting in question - 'The Virgin on the Rocks' - was well known to Ricketts, as it had been acquired by the National Gallery in London in 1880.

Leonardo da Vinci, 'The Virgin of the Rocks',
oil on wood, about 1491/2 and 1506/8
[Collection National Gallery, London]
[Creative Commons agreement]

Ricketts's view of art as an autonomous domain is, as the reader quickly realises, also the view of Leonardo da Vinci:

'Art should be divorced from any consideration but itself,' thought the Master as he covered his work and the offending panels with a cloth to protect them from the dust.

(p. 60)

The story seems to have been written partly to describe the disorderly wealth of a painter's and inventor's studio and secluded garden in listings of various objects. In the sequel, Ricketts describes Da Vinci's experiments with poisoned crocus and peaches, introducing the other inhabitants of the studio: the painter of the panels, the cat, a monkey and his housekeeper. Leonardo dismisses the local painter before receiving a visit from a court lady, a mistress of the Duke, who has to hide between the artefacts in the studio as the latter suddenly appears. While the others, one by one, talk about the uses of poison, Leonardo makes sure they leave the crocus and peaches alone. The Duke likens lovers to artists:

'Do you sometimes tire of your picture as I tire of my women?'

Leonardo smiled rather sadly before saying, 'The desire for artistic perfection is arduous, O Prince; we lovers and artists alike grope for a light hidden from our human darkness... and ... sometimes I feel I am painting on the Night.'

(p. 65)

Incidentally, the Duke needs a gift for the French king, and Da Vinci helps him with this. After the Duke has departed, his mistress turns out to have disappeared as well, while the cat is lying 'among dusty bones'. Leonardo puts away his notebook and the crocus, but cannot find the peach anywhere. It then transpires that his dismissed assistant has given a better pupil a peach, who is now dying. Leonardo rushes to his bedside and hears that he is on the mend, but that Lucrezia, the Duke's wife, has suddenly died. Back in his studio, he wants to gather up all the peaches, but hears that his housekeeper has given the last fruits to his monkey. Fortunately, he sees that the monkey is alive and well in his cage, with the pits of two peaches next to him.

Before the poisonings take place and, apparently thanks to the presence of the painting of 'The Virgin on the Rocks', the cat and monkey are saved from death, Da Vinci works through the night, paying little attention to food or other distractions, occasionally muttering a piece of Ricketts wisdom, such as:

Things mortal pass away, but not art.

(p. 67)

In addition to a high ideal when it comes to art, with a certain disdain for worldly matters - which, incidentally, are elegantly resolved by the painter in a businesslike manner - the story expresses a deep love for animals, more so than for people.