My memory is jogged by a news story about a George Stubbs painting that had been sold at auction in December for a record $15.5 million. The memory is about a different painting, one that most horse lovers have at least seen a picture of: Whistlejacket.
For many years, starting when I was in art school, I’d had a tiny postcard of Whistlejacket taped to my easel for inspiration. That, and a postcard of Rosa Bonheur’s The Horse Fair were the first things I’d see when I walked into my studio each day. Whistlejacket inspired me with its simplicity of a single equine gesture; The Horse Fair inspired me with Bonheur’s ability to capture equine chaos in a grand sweep of light and dark. I studied my copy of Stubbs’ Anatomy, learning volumes about the bone and muscle structure of both horses and humans from his work, and I’d been fortunate enough to see several of his paintings, as well as The Horse Fair, in New York museums. But I didn’t see the actual painting of Whistlejacket in person until a few years ago.
Axel and I were in England for the Hickstead CDI, and we took a trip into London to visit the National Gallery. I spied Whistlejacket from 50 yards away, because they had placed it in the center of the far wall at the end of the galleries. In contrast to all the other ornate and complex paintings around it, its composition is so simple and striking that it stands out at a great distance, and I felt drawn to it magnetically. I don’t think I even looked left or right at the rest of the magnificent artwork that lines those galleries as I walked toward it. In my head it had always been small enough to hold in my hand, because of that postcard. Of course part of me had known that it was huge, but the fact had never really settled into my head.
I’ve been known to get emotional in art museums. I guess that’s part of why I’m an artist! I stood there in front of the life sized painting (it’s 8′ x 10′), teary eyed, absorbing its scale and scope and the nuances of hues and brushwork, the stuff that you just can’t get from looking at a postcard. I simply couldn’t step away from it. It was like seeing the old friend who had inspired me to start my life’s work.
Whistlejacket, by George Stubbs
Terri Miller: On Paintings, Photos and Dressage 
I saw Whistlejacket in Baltimore, MD a few years ago during a travelling show and had the same reaction, tears welled up in my eyes. I get to see it every day too, I have a large framed print in my living room. Had The Horse Fair poster in my room as a kid and was also blown away when I finaly saw that in person.
In my first and only oil paint class, we were required to try to copy a master’s painting. I chose Whistlejacket. My instructor didn’t like that choice. I told her that Stubbs was indeed a master and that this painting counted as much as any other. I still have my poor rendition of it somewhere.
Oh, yes, Cristy, there was something about horses versus the art teachers that taught our generation! I went to art school in NY City, so for years I thought it was just the locale, but since then I’ve heard similar stories from artists from all over. My favorite exchange was with a teacher at SVA who suggested that I paint while riding. I thought it was an interesting idea, but told him that the turpentine might slosh a bit.
Magnificent!!! I’m not an artist and I’d never heard of George Stubbs. Thank you for the introduction. Now I need to go find an image of The Horse Fair.
Thanks, Char! You’ll find a link to “The Horse Fair” in this post!
Enjoyed the post, Terri! I, too, am a lifelong Whistlejacket adorer. I was able to see the Stubbs exhibit in Baltimore a few years back, and cried when I saw Whistlejacket after all these years. I went to the exhibit 2 days in a row! And anytime I can talk about George Stubbs and let people know what a master painter he was, it makes my day.
This is my first visit to your blog, so the synchronicity of Whistlejacket being the first thing I saw there is pretty cool. Thanks.
Lisa
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