Frank Reynolds, R.I. | Page 8

proper object of satire meeting with its just deserts.
[Illustration: THE WARRENER. Exhibited at the Royal Institute of Painters in Water Colours, 1907.]
No ridicule could be more serene, nor yet more biting, than that with which the artist touches off the desperate efforts to attract attention of the rowdy group of callow youths whom he names, with a flash of inspiration, "The Dare-Devils" (page 10). Of "The Suburbanite," to the writer's mind perhaps the most subtly accurate character-study of all, the artist speaks in terms of apology. It is hardly fair, he contends, to include in a gallery of pests the bulwark of the nation!
A particular aspect of London life which provides a rich fund of material for humorous treatment was dealt with by Frank Reynolds in his series of drawings entitled "The 'Halls' from the Stalls." As every frequenter of the variety theatre is aware, the programme at such places of entertainment is arranged on certain well-defined lines. The music-hall performer may be divided into certain very distinct classes, each with its orthodox methods and mannerisms; and it was on the little peculiarities of these different branches of the profession that the artist seized with characteristic glee.
[Illustration]
How little his efforts, unfortunately, were taken in the spirit in which they were meant, may be gleaned from the annoyance expressed by one gentleman who considered himself, quite erroneously, to have been singled out for individual ridicule. A certain drawing in the series depicts "The Equilibrist"--an individual with an anxious eye, who is poised upon a slack wire above the head of an admiring assistant, balancing sundry cigar-boxes and wine-glasses on one toe, while supporting on his head a lighted lamp, and discoursing sweet music from a mandoline. The publication of this skit drew from a wrathful professional an indignant letter, in which he declared that insomuch as he was the one and only exponent of the equilibristic art who could balance a lighted lamp upon his head, the picture which illustrated this piece of "business" must be intended as a portrait of himself, though he considered it very badly done, and a libellous production. From one point of view, it was surprising that the impression of the "Lion Comique," as seen by Frank Reynolds, elicited no similar response from the gentlemen of the boards, for indisputably the picture was a portrait, and a perfect one, of each individually and of all combined. On second thoughts, however, and upon consideration of the drawing in question (which many readers will remember), it is, perhaps, not so very surprising that no claim to identity with it was forthcoming!
Other drawings in the same series, depicting other examples of the strange freaks of humanity by whom the British public delights to be entertained, afford good examples of the innate humour of Frank Reynolds' art. There is often little that is actually comic in the situations depicted, yet each is instinct with humour. It is the triumph of Reynolds' comic art that he can snare, on the wing as it were, humour that is too elusive and nimble for one of slower perception and heavier hand.
[Illustration: VIVE L'ARMéE From "Paris and Some Parisians"]
"Art and the Man" was a series of drawings in the vein of farce rather than of comedy. The intention was to depict various types of artists rather as fancy might paint them than as they really are. The "Marine Artist," for example, with his canvas slung from davits and the entire furniture of his studio of extremely nautical design, was a purely fanciful conception. The "Pot-Boiler," spending his days in painting one solitary subject over and over again ad infinitum, comes nearer to life, though his portrait again is an exaggerated fancy rather than a study from life. One feels, nevertheless, that if there be indeed such an individual as the pot-boiler in existence, this, and no other, must be his outward guise.
The drawings entitled "Dinners with Shakespeare," to which allusion has already been made, gave scope for a very varied range of character studies. Meal-time is a happy moment at which to catch human nature unawares, and the artist made the most of his opportunities. They add to the debt which the historians of contemporary manners will owe to Reynolds in the future, for as a sidelight on social habits of the present day these pictures of the dinner-table will be instructive. The very triteness of their theme gives them their interest.
[Illustration: "GAZED ON HAROLD" From "Paris and Some Parisians"]
[Illustration: FROM A PARIS SKETCH-BOOK]
Of late years Reynolds' pen-and-ink drawings have been a familiar feature of the pages of Punch. His gentle satires therein have been at the expense of all classes of the community. But his most successful and best remembered jokes have perhaps been those which depicted the unconscious humours of Cockney low