Henry Western - A Leading Artist of Miniatures

From the "Romford Recorder/Review" of Friday, September 12th, 1958

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"Alone with memory of his famous past

by Hugh Jones"

"In a small untidy house in Romford's Havering road, an old man of 81 sits alone. Day in, day out, Mr. Henry Western sits with his memories of when he was leading artist of miniatures.

           

His soft artistic hands have been stilled by the realisation that illness has robbed him of some of his capabilities. He knows that bad work now could depreciate the value of earlier creations.

 

The walls of his home are covered with his works, his upstairs studio, thick with the dust of months, contains dozens of his earlier works - painted by the man who French art critics hailed as "a true friend of France."

 

Everyday, Henry sits by the front window. Only a few feet away, beside the fireplace, hangs an exquisite miniature of his lovely wife, Flora, who died two years ago.

 

Beside his bed, half a dozen medicine bottles stand, behind his favourite chair, a white "Happy Christmas" plaster plaque hangs, and at his feet is his constant companion, a black spaniel, Joe.

 

His housekeeper, Mrs. Annie Gordon, moved in when Henry's wife died. The memories of glories, fame and creation, the dog and the housekeeper are Henry's life.

 

"We want more"

Proudly, with trembling hands, he showed some of his masterpieces in miniature, painted on ivory, framed and labeled exhibition.

 

He pulled out a French art magazine, dated June, 1927. It said: "We want to see more of the work of Henry Western. He is a true friend of France." 

 

Some of his work was reproduced in the magazine.  "I was more appreciated in France than in England," he said. In England he had to take up commercial art to live - "You had to be too well connected to get portrait commissions"   [During] his career he designed some of the most famous posters of the pre-war era, including the renowned Nestles cats and the beef cube poster "Alas my poor friend."

 

A miracle

 

His career continued into old age, but delayed effects of a First World War head wound halted Henry's brushes three years ago.

 

While serving with the Queen Victoria Rifles in France he suffered severe head injuries. His recovery was regarded as a miracle, though a large indent shows in his skull.

 

The man who exhibited at the English Royal Academy and the French Paris Salon and was included in the Who's Who of Art, showed me his studio. A work by his brother[1], also an artist, stood dust-laden on the easel.  His paintings, including a large impression of a small boy, stood in disorder around the room.

 

The brushes and paints remain where they were left. The paint has hardened on the brushes, some were stuck to the easel tray.

 

"Look around," said Mr. Western. Bottles, which once contained mixing and cleaning materials, filled part of a corner; the equipment will probably never be used again.

 

Has a wish

 

Henry led the way downstairs, past an Italian bronze bust, which was shown at the Royal Academy, and went back to his chair by the window.

 

This old man, with grey hair and a charming manner, has one wish he wants fulfilled. He wants to see his famous nephews, the Western Brothers, Kenneth and George. "It's been two years since I saw them last. I wish they'd come and see me," he said. Henry taught George his first song, Papa's New Hat.

 

On the bed in front of Henry rested his own hat, old brown trilby. He sat by the window, staring out. Joe nuzzled round his feet - Henry was back with his memories."

 Henry Western signed his works as 'H. Western' or 'Henry Western' and always placed a small flourish at the end of the signature.  The above example comes from the 1911 UK census which he personally signed. He records in the same census that he is living with his new wife Flora Emily Western (nee Elmes), and his 76 year old mother Mary Ann Western (nee Norman), at their 6 room house at 87 Nelson Road, Stroud Green, London.

A family member recalls "....Great Uncle Harry or Henry on Sundays was an artist who specialized in painting miniatures on ivory (wouldn't be smiled upon these days). He was a true and agreeable eccentric. This may have been in part to having half his head removed by a German shell during WWI. To show that there were no hard feelings, when they realized their mistake in shooting a Western, saved his life, and fitted him with a steel plate to protect the resulting hole, which he never wore. 

To visit his studio in Romford was quite an experience I can tell you. His house was full, and I mean really full, with a vast collection of curious and paintings. He collected everything and it didn't stop there. We youngsters were taken at every visit around the collection and every item was illustrated by this fabulous gent. He really was a lovely man."
 

(c) Copyright 2004 Trevor Western. All rights reserved