JOSEPH MALLORD WILLIAM TURNER, R.A. (1775-1851)
STUDY FOR 'THE RING', AN ILLUSTRATION TO THOMAS MORE'S 'ANACREPHON'
Watercolour with pencil on wove paper
Watermarked l.r. of sheet: JWHATMA[AN] / 1837
Sheet Size: 32 x 25.7 cm
PROVENANCE
Hugh Andrew Johnstone Munro of Novar (1797-1864), Novar, Scotland;
His sale, Christie's, London, 02.06.1877, lot 23;
Where acquired by Metzler;
Anonymous sale, Christie's, London, 27.03.1909, lot 81;
Where acquired by Knity;
Acquired by the Nonesuch Gallery privately in September 2025
LITERATURE
Engraved by E. Goodall for Thomas More's Epicurean, London (1839), p.58;
A. Munro, The Life of J.M.W. Turner, London (1897), p.152 (not repr.)
A. Wilton, J.M.W. Turner: His Art & Life, London (1979), p.456, no. 1299 (not repr., untraced)
J. Piggott, Turner's Vignettes, London (1993), pp.65-67 (not repr.), App. B. No. 142 (the engraving)
The present work is an exciting rediscovery that has lain dormant for more than a century, with its location unknown at the time of both the definitive catalogue of the artist's works by Andrew Wilton and the catalogue of Turner's vignettes by Jane Piggott.
Turner produced a number of watercolour drawings for Thomas Moore’s prose poem ‘The Epicurean, a Tale; and Alciphron, a Poem’; however, only four designs were used in the publication, partly because the author was surprisingly dissatisfied with what Turner presented him with. These four were engraved by Edward Goodall and comprise: ‘The Garden’, ‘The Ring’, ‘The Nile’ and ‘The Chaplet’. Today, the other known studies for this particular illustration in the book are part of the Turner Bequest at the Tate, and are considerably less finished than our painting, which was likely the final version of this scene, that was then given to Goodall for engraving. A similarly-finished study for The Garden is now owned by the Clark Art Institute, Williamstown (obj. no. 2007.8.118), having come initially from Munro of Novar's collection as ours did.
Our picture depicts the moment when the hero of Moore's epic poem, Alciphron, in the midst of exploring a treacherous Egyptian pyramid, grabs hold of a magical ring that eventually guides him to safety. The hero is mounting a staircase, when the steps begin to crumble beneath his feet:
'I could hear the plash of the falling fragments, as every step in succession gave way from under my feet. It was a most trying moment, – but even still worse remained. I now found the balustrade, by which I had held during my ascent, and which had hitherto seemed firm, grow tremulous in my hand, – while the step, to which I was about to trust myself, tottered under my foot. Just then, a momentary flash, as if of lightning, broke around me, and I perceived, hanging out of the clouds, and barely within my reach, a huge brazen ring. Instinctively I stretched forth my arm to seize it, and, at the same instant, both balustrade and steps gave way beneath me, and I was left swinging by my hands in the dark void.'
Thomas Moore, The Epicurean, London (1839), p.58
Our painting is, by contrast with many of Turner's literary illustrations, bracingly modern in both its composition and subject matter. Indeed, it is more redolent of the later French artists Gustave Doré or even Victor Hugo, and seems far ahead of its time, particularly by comparison with Turner's more staid illustrations to Byron or Walter Scott. Those illustrations, many of which date to just a year or two prior to our work, are very much more in the tradition of earlier artists like Stothard or William Hamilton, hardly names one would associate with this striking design. Gustave Doré himself did in fact illustrate the 1865 French translation of Moore's poem, and depicted the same scene with a very similar composition, suggesting a familiarity with Turner's illustrations for the text.
HISTORICAL RECEPTION
Turner's illustrations for Moore's poem faced unusually harsh criticism from even his most ardent supporters, namely Ruskin and his (posthumous) biographers, P.G. Hamerton and Walter Thornbury. Hamerton was scathing in his appraisal, writing 'The Ring may be dismissed at once as a wild fancy of a man swinging in the void, surrounded by diabolical apparitions, a subject authorised by the story, but not well chosen for illustration.' [1] Thornbury labelled the group 'Feeble, strained, and misunderstood.' [2] But it was Ruskin who was the most succinct (and bluntest), adding just a single word to the parcel that once contained the Tate's nine drawings for The Epicurean: 'Bad' [3] It should be noted that Ruskin regretted his choice of word, writing to Ralph Wornum that his inscription was 'horrible’, adding ‘I never meant it to be permanent.’ [4]
Today, we can appreciate the illustration and our drawing for what it truly is, namely an insight into the remarkable imagination of an artistic genius at the height of his powers as an illustrator. Meredith Gamer recognised the group's special status among Turner's vignettes in her 2006 catalogue essay for the Tate, writing:
'Like the published vignettes for Moore’s Epicurean, the preliminary sketches possess an element of fantasy and high drama that is unique among Turner’s works of literary illustration.' [5]
NOTES
[1] Philip Gilbert Hamerton, The Life of J.M.W. Turner, R.A., London (1879), p.280.
[2] W. Thornbury, The Life of J.M.W. Turner, London (1897), p.162
[3] A Complete Inventory of the Drawings of the Turner Bequest, ed. A.J. Finberg, London (1909), p.898, no. 125
[4] Ibid., p.897
[5] M. Gamer, ‘Watercolours Related to Thomas Moore, The Epicurean, a Tale, and Alciphron c.1837–8’, subset, Aug. 2006, in D.B. Brown (ed.), J.M.W. Turner: Sketchbooks, Drawings and Watercolours, Tate Research Publication, December 2012
