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February 1882 53 which is life. It is the essential part of all civilization,” he continued. “Without beauty civilization has no meaning, because industry without beauty becomes barbarism.” The thought is derived from Ruskin, of course, yet it was well put, and many epigrammatic turns of thought expressed by Mr. Wilde are entertaining to the listener. I asked about Burne-Jones, and he told me he considered him an artist “of the loftiest spiritual imagination, of a fervid type, of splendid range of vision, of a joyous color, and a wonderful fertility of design.” Mr. Wilde is to give his lecture on “The English Renaissance” in Music Hall on Thursday evening. No one expects to hear anything original or striking, yet it is anticipated that it will be a rather pleasant intellectual entertainment. The interviewer, Lilian Whiting (1847–1942), was an American poet, critic, memoirist , and journalist. 1. Genevieve Ward (1837–1922), born Lucy Genevieve Theresa Ward, was an American-born British soprano and actress. As the dates just given show, Mrs. Gustafson’s review, or “eulogy,” only metaphorically killed the performer. 2. Edward Coley Burne-Jones (1833–98) was a British painter and designer closely associated with the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. 3. The phrase “an utterly utter young man” echoes Robert Coote’s popular song, “for voice or piano parodying or inspired by Oscar Wilde,” entitled “Quite Too Utterly Utter: an Aesthetical Roundelay” (1881). 14. “A Man of Culture Rare,” Rochester Democrat and Chronicle, 8 February 1882, 4 Oscar Wilde, his knee breeches, his business manager and his colored body servant arrived in the city late yesterday afternoon and were at once driven to the Osburn house, where rooms had been assigned them. The great leader in modern aestheticism at once retired to his apartment and did not again make his appearance until half past 7 o’clock, when he rode to the Grand Opera house, where a blushing reporter of this paper was presented to him in the dressing room. There was certainly nothing limp nor languid in the hearty English grip with which he clasped the proffered hand, and had it not been for the singularity of his attire there would have been nothing in particular to distinguish him from an ordinary English gentleman. In appearance he was the typical Bunthorne of Patience. He was dressed in knee breeches, i-xii_1-196_Wild.indd 53 8/4/09 9:11:39 AM 54 February 1882 black silk stockings marvelously fitted, low patent leather pumps, regulation dress coat, low cut double-breasted white vest, shirt collar turned low with a voluminous white tie, and a broad expanse of shirt bosom, ornamented with a single stud, in which were set two pearls and a diamond. A fob with double seals jingled below his vest, and the only other article of jewelry visible was a large seal ring upon the third finger of his left hand. The effect was curious if not picturesque, and it was heightened by the remarkable face and head. Thick and heavy hair, parted in the middle, fell nearly to his shoulders on either side, enclosing a long, narrow, and oddly marked face. The forehead is low, the cheek bones high, the eyes bright and full of expression, the mouth large and mobile, the lips full, and the chin giving the impression of unusual length. It is not a handsome face; it is not a strong face; but it is an exceedingly interesting face, made doubly so, perhaps, by a knowledge of the man’s life and position. It is emphatically the face of a dreamer, intelligent and refined, but not the face that would inspire confidence in earnestness of purpose and vigor of execution. This is the first strong impression, but the judgment of the mind is wonderfully shaken by a brief experience with his conversational powers. As the reporter perched gingerly upon the edge of a chair, Oscar Wilde inquired if art had gained any foothold in Rochester, which enabled the visitor with pardonable pride to refer to Powers’s art gallery1 and the art exchange, never failing sources of inspiration. He admitted that the art exchange was good so far as it went, but that in reality nothing could be done until there was founded a school of design. “You must teach the people to do artistic work,” he said, “and then the movement will begin to assume form. It is not to the rich who can afford to be patrons but the workers...

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