Art in England: Notes and Studies — Text and Context

The Macaroni Miniature Painter

Cook’s portrait of Richard Cosway is a study in contradictions. He describes the miniaturist as a man who “must be in the fashion,” adopting the extreme dress of the Macaroni Club: a mulberry silk coat embroidered with scarlet strawberries, a small three-cornered hat, and a powdered toupée. Yet beneath this affected exterior, Cosway toiled “earnestly and successfully” to keep his professional earnings in step with his lavish habits. Cipriani reported that after whole nights wasted in frivolous pursuits, Cosway would be found at an early hour in his studio, “sedulously toiling to redeem lost time and money.” Cook’s narrative voice here is wry and detailed, drawing on contemporary caricatures such as “The Macaroni Miniature Painter” to illustrate how Cosway’s brother painters scorned him while the quality exploited his hospitality.

The Trade in Doubtful Old Masters

Cook does not shy from the less honourable aspects of Cosway’s career. He notes that Cosway supplemented his income by dealing in old masters, purchasing “doubtful” specimens, then repairing, re-touching, re-varnishing, and selling them as “masterpieces of ancient art.” This practice, Cook observes, was “profitable rather than honourable.” He cites Barry’s bitter complaint about “artful men” who vended old copies and imitations in the name of great masters. Cook’s own stance is measured: he reports Hazlitt’s defence that Cosway was “Fancy’s child,” the dupe of his own deceptions, but leaves the reader to weigh the evidence. The passage exemplifies Cook’s method—blending anecdote, quotation, and moral commentary without overt judgment.

Repetition as a Structural Feature

Cook’s preface candidly warns that the essays, originally published separately, may contain “repetition of the mention of incidents pertaining to the times.” This is not a flaw but a deliberate choice: each chapter was designed to be complete in itself. The reader moving through the collection will encounter recurring references to the Royal Academy, the taste for ancient art, and the social pressures on artists. Cook’s voice remains consistent—scholarly yet accessible, with a dry humour that surfaces in phrases like “the favourite term of Biographical Dictionaries.” The structure invites dipping in and out, though the cumulative effect builds a layered picture of the English art world from the early schools to the Victorian era.

Cook’s Art in England rewards readers who approach it as a series of interconnected portraits rather than a continuous history. The essays can be read in any order, but the preface and the chapter on Cosway offer a strong entry point into Cook’s method: attentive to social detail, sceptical of fashion, and alert to the economic realities behind artistic production. The book’s value lies in its recovery of figures who, though less famous, shaped the institutions and tastes of their time.

There’s something tender about Cook’s portraits—artists who never quite fit their moment, caught between integrity and fashion. I found myself thinking of Cellini’s fierce pride, that same stubborn devotion to craft. The treatises of Benvenuto Cellini on goldsmithing and sculpture — Key Ideas to Explore carries that same quiet ache: how much of a life remains in what a hand makes, long after the trends fade.