Magpies, Squirrels and Thieves Read Online Free PDF Page A

home in Nottingham, sketching and scribbling, dreaming of what might be. He was not close to his siblings; his father, a printer and auctioneer, was sternly preoccupied with business, and he was largely raised by his grandfather, who was a bookseller. Robinson spent hours by himself. Physically slight and unremarkable, with a sharp mouth and a high, pale forehead, he was little noticed as he sat practising his skills of composition, perspective and shading. But he did not mind this. He preferred his art to anything and was happy to be left alone. He rapidly developed a self-assurance bordering on arrogance and, as his drawing skills developed, so did his confidence. He compared his work to that of others around him, and he became convinced that he had talent. He began to imagine a future for himself as an artist or an architect, leading a life of creativity and inspiration. His ambition began to shine bright and hard.
    Robinson knew he could expect little financial support from his family. Moreover, he had few contacts and sparse knowledge of the world of art. The small-scale auctions run by his father were the closest he had come to the international world of the artist. But his early confidence was unshakeable and, soon after leaving school, he began work in an architect’s office. Life behind the drawing board was not quite as he had imagined, however. Studying the style of the nineteenth-century Gothic revival, he was, for a while, inspired by the ideals of craftsmanship and the elegance of Gothic decoration, but the day-to-day routine of a small-scale architect seemed largely mechanical and tedious. Robinson was convinced he could do better. And in 1843, at the age of nineteen, he was accepted into a major artists’ teaching atelier in Paris. Taking a big step towards creative and personal independence, Robinson turned his back on his life in Nottingham to begin again.
    There was no better place than Paris to learn an artist’s trade – up in Montmartre, the crowded narrow streets were teeming with painters and sculptors and poets. Robinson worked with two of the city’s leading ateliers. Under the guidance of Michel Martin Drolling, professor at the Ecole Nationale Supérieure des Beaux-Arts, he studied bright, theatrical scenes from the Bible or from history; with Henri Lehmann, a young German-born draughtsman only ten years older than himself, the emphasis was on graceful portraits and nude studies. Robinson studied hard. He drew from the classics or from copies of masterpieces, worked from plaster casts of sculptures, painted in parks and in the open country and made life drawings. He was robustly confident in his own talents. Every week there was a competition among Drolling’s students, who were then arranged around the studio in order of merit. In 1845, Robinson wrote proudly to a friend: ‘I am now the “premier dessinateur” in the atelier. There are several who have drawn consistently for four or five years whilst I havedrawn little more than 8 or 9 months and have already got top of the list.’ 1 Robinson may have been exaggerating the speed of his achievements – he had been in Paris, although not at the same atelier, almost two years – but it was clear that he had an eye for perspective, form and colour, and was, as with all things he was to undertake, conscientious and determined. He may have looked boyish and angelic, lightweight even, but he fully believed in his own talent to succeed.
    Robinson’s practical Paris education was indeed a success. He would work as an artist for the rest of his life, exhibiting several times at the Royal Academy and regularly selling his work. Prints of two of his landscapes can still be seen in the collection at the Tate Gallery. But it was another aspect of his time in the French capital that was to have most influence on the rest of his life – and on the future of British collecting. Robinson’s study at the