Biography of Joseph Edgar Boehm 1st Baronet 1834-1890

The Athenaeum 1890. Sir Joseph Edgar Boehm (age 56), Bart., R.A.

The painfully sudden death, on the 12th inst. [12th December 1890] of this accomplished Court sculptor and Academician removes one of the most able and fortunate of his class, and leaves to be completed by his brother artists a considerable body of commissions in various stages. One of those large and important works of which an unusual share fell to the lot of Sir Edgar, the effigy of the late German Emperor, was finished but a few days ago, and will, by Her Majesty's desire, shortly be set up at Windsor. The deceased had, as it was remarked in "Artists at Home," produced more public statues than any artist of this country, from Flaxman to Foley. This was true six years ago, when the statement was printed, and it is true to the present time. As the sculptor himself revised the memoir, we cannot do better than borrow its data. He was born at Vienna, July 6th, 1834, of Hungarian parents, and was educated there. His father, Herr Daniel Boehm, the Director of the Imperial Mint, was a man of distinction in art, and formed a numerous collection of examples of the finest kinds of sculpture, amid which the son had ample opportunities for studying the antique. His works, however, prove that he followed other and less severe models. With his father he travelled in Italy, and in the Renaissance statuary of that country found those types of design which, in a by no means exacting form, he adopted, adding to them much telling picturesqueness, and avoiding certain difficulties over which it is the glory of men of higher ambition to triumph.

From 1848 to 1851 the young Boehm studied in this country, largely in the Elgin Room and elsewhere at the British Museum. It was manifestly to his advantage that he did so, for it enabled him to impart style to his least serious designs. From 1851 he was in Italy; later he was in Paris, where he worked with some éclat; and about this period we find him in Vienna again, where, in 1836, he won the First Imperial Prize, his earliest important distinction. In 1862 he settled in London, and in 1865 became naturalized. His first appearance at the Academy was with a terra-cotta "Bust of a Gentleman," in 1862. Little had, at that time, been done in terra-cotta, a material which lends itself to work like Boehm's, that is more spirited than scholarly. The novelty of the material, apart from the intrinsic merit of the portrait, attracted attention to it. In 1863 he sent to Trafalgar Square the very clever statuettes of "Mr. and Mrs. Millais." He soon became the fashion, and next year exhibited at the same place not fewer than six examples, including a capital statuette of Thackeray, a spirited small bronze equestrian "Miss Edwards," and "Johnny Armstrong," a racehorse. A marble bust of Viscount Stratford de Redelitfe and a group of Mr. W. Russell and his horse came forth in 1865. Then followed the "Duke of Beaufort"; "Countess of Cardigan"; "H.M. the Queen," a terracotta statuette; the "Marquis of Lansdowne," for Westminster Abbey; a colossal equestrian group of the Prince of Wales, for Bombay; another, of "Lord Napier of Magdala," for Calcutta; "Thomas Carlyle." in bronze, for Chelsea, a capital instance of Boehm's best work; as well as portraits, of various materials and sizes, of the Queen, Lord Rosebery, Lord John Russell, Mr. Ruskin, Sir F. Burton, Mr. Gladstone, Prof. Huxley, and Sir J. E. Millais; Sir Francis Drake, for Tavistock; the late Archbishop of Canterbury, for his cathedral; Lord Derby, Lord Wolseley; Lord Shaftesbury; and a host of private commissions. Of public statues, of which the deceased seemed to have secured a monopoly, the list is too long for transcribing. The most ambitions of them, but not the best, are "The Duke of Kent," "The Queen," "The King of the Belgians," "Princess Alice and her Daughters," "Prince Leopold," "Dean Wellesley," and "The Prince Imperial," all for Windsor or Frogmore. The last, a very poor specimen, was the subject of a hot debate, which ended in its not finding a place at Westminster, as proposed. Boehm exceuted "Bunyan," for Bedford; "The Duchess of Bedford," for Woburn Abbey: a most unfortunate "Sir John Burgoyne," for Waterloo Place; "Lord Lawrence," for the same locality, which the sculptor, being dissatisfied with his first effort, very wisely replaced with a second and somewhat better statue; "Sir W. Gregory," for Colombo; "W. Tyndale," for the Northern Embankment; "Darwin," for the Natural History Museum; "Sir Ashley Eden," for Calcutta; and "Lord Beaconsfield," "Viscount Stratford de Redeliffe," and "Dean Stanley," all three for the Abbey. The last is one of Boehm's most effective works, He was by no means fortunate in the group of the Duke of Wellington and his soldiers which now fronts Apsley House. As a design it illustrates the author's weaknesses,

Boehm was elected an Associate of the Academy in January, 1878, an Academician two years later, a member of the Academy of Florence in 1875, and of that of Rome in 1880; in 1878 he received a Scecond Class Medal at Paris; at Vienna, in 1882, a gold medal, He was Sculptor in Ordinary to the Queen. He lectured on sculpture at the Royal Academy. It is understood that he was hampered in designing as well as in executing the dies for that new coinage which will not commend him to posterity, and it is said that the baronetey which was bestowed upon him in 1889 did not console Boehm for this conspicuous failure. The personal qualities of the artist made him a favourite in every circle, and justified the warm regard of many distinguished patrons; combined with fashionable indifference to the higher technique and the nobler elements of design, they fully accounted for Sir Edgar's great professional success. The Queen desires he should be buried in St. Pauls.

The Spectator Volume 1890 December 20th. 20th December 1890. Joseph Edgar Boehm 1st Baronet (deceased)

Since the premature death of Frank Holl, English art has certainly sustained no loss comparable in importance to that which it has just suffered in the death of Sir Edgar Boehm. The great sculptor was, it is true, a somewhat older man than the great painter, for he was born in 1834; but he was still in the full force of his genius when a death, awful in its suddenness, though blessed in its painlessness, struck him down in the midst of his works, and almost with his chisel in hia hand. Like most great artists, his works were of unequal merit, and in some branches he was probably surpassed by contemporaries. Good judges often thought his taste too realistic, and would have preferred a finer, a more classical, and a more idealising touch ; and his busts, admirable as they undoubtedly are, perhaps scarcely rise to the level of his statues. But no sculptor since the death of Foley has filled so large a place in English art, and very few sculptors in England have left works at once so various and so great. The noble statues of Carlyle and Darwin, so impressive in their massive dignity and intellectual power; the masculine, martial, and commanding figure of Lord Lawrence opposite the Athenaeum ; the exquisite delineation of the small, delicate, subtle, thoughtful features of Dean Stanley, on the monument in the Abbey ; and the not less exquisite grace and pathos of the tomb of Lady Waterford near Curraghmore,—are only a few of the many examples which might be given of his success in dealing with many different types. As an animal sculptor, and especially as a sculptor of horses, he ranks extremely high. An ardent Sportsman, passionately devoted to riding, he knew every motion and every attitude of his horse; and his wonderfully quick and accurate eye was trained by the most careful observation. He sometimes day after day stopped his horse when a troop of cavalry were passing, fixing his eye on each occasion on a single motion of the horses till he had thoroughly mastered it. Among the bronzes in the Sportsman's Exhibition at the Grosvenor Gallery, there were many admirable examples of his horses, but perhaps his greatest works in this department are those in the possession of the Duke of Westminster. A noble, life-sized horse, intended for a member of the Rothschild family, was one of the last works on which he was engaged, and only a few days before his death he expressed the keen pleasure which it was giving him.

No artist ever loved art more truly for its own sake, and was more free from sordid motives. A memorable instance of the spirit in which he worked was shown in his conduct about his first statue of Lord Lawrence. It had been duly accepted and placed ; but Boehm became more and more conscious that it was not worthy of the subject, and he accordingly undertook, at his own expense, to remove it from its pedestal, and to replace it by another statue. Like Mr. Watts, he had an especial pleasure in connecting his art with the men of highest intellect in his day. His statue of Carlyle was preeminently a labour of love, for a warm, deep, and cordial friendship subsisted between that great writer and himself. In the regular course of his work, it fell to his lot to make statues or busts of many of the most eminent Englishmen of his generation ; and in spite of an almost overwhelming press of work, he asked many others to sit to him for their busts, and he formed in this manner a collection which is likely to prove of great historic interest.

It was inevitable that the great number of public commissions that were given to a sculptor who was a Hungarian by birth and an Austrian by education should have excited some discontent, but there was certainly nothing in Boehm himself that could provoke any hostile feeling. It may be truly said of him that no artist was more entirely free from any tinge of artistic jealousy, more generous in his judgments of rivals, more modest in estimating his own works, more ready to recognise rising and struggling talent, more completely unspoiled by popularity and success. His nature was at once extremely sensitive and intensely amiable. His dislike, indeed, to anything approaching a quarrel sometimes degenerated into weakness, and in dealing with committees and public officials, he more than once allowed his judgment to be overborne in a manner which a stronger man would not have permitted. A conspicuous example of this was in the design of the new coinage. It is well known that in this matter he was completely overruled, and the result was a lamentable failure, which no one recognised more clearly than himself. The Wellington monument, though it has conspicuous merits, is not among his great successes ; but neither the site of the monument, nor the standing horse, nor the dress and attitude of the chief figure, were in accordance with his original suggestion.

It is impossible to close this short sketch without a few words on those personal characteristics which made Sir Edgar Boehm one of the most attractive men of his time. He had travelled much and read much, and was thoroughly conversant with art in many forms and in many ages and countries. His gift of conversation was very great, and with a keen love for England and English life, he combined that warm Southern nature which gives a pliancy and a charm very seldom found in our cold northern climate. He was at once eminently sympathetic and transparently genuine, and his total freedom from every kind of pretension and affectation made him a great favourite in every society in which he moved. One of the few topics on which his mind was a complete blank was politics. He scarcely ever opened a newspaper, and he knew nothing and cared nothing on the subject; but in mingled political society, where of late party-feeling ran very high, this fact often made him peculiarly acceptable. During the first Midlothian Campaign, be was the guest of Lord Rosebery, who had commissioned him to make a bust of Mr. Gladstone. He was duly taken to one of the great orations, but he afterwards frankly confessed that his chief interest in the performance was watching how, as the orator grew warmer and warmer, and as his head swayed to and fro in his excitement, the famous collar gradually drooped, till at last the neck was fully disclosed, which he at once proceeded to sketch. A remarkable illustration of his social position is to be found in the fact that he was a member, and a most popular member, of three small dining-clubs, which are probably the most select and exclusive in England,—Dr. Johnson's famous club, the Literary Society, and Grillon's. Only a few days before his death, he might have been seen at Grillon's side by side with Mr. Gladstone ; and it was interesting to watch the sympathy between the artist who never touched on politics, and the old statesman who has so rare a power of throwing of for a time all political cares. Boehm acknowledged to a friend that during the last weeks he had been considerably overworked, and some disquieting symptoms had lately appeared ; but few persons can have imagined that that bright, buoyant, and most attractive nature was doomed to so speedy and so lamentable an eclipse.