ttitude toward this medium, so
long considered little more than a craft. With the woodcut almost
beneath notice it is understandable that Jackson's work should have
failed to impress art historians unduly until recent times. Although he
bore the brunt as an isolated prophet and special pleader between 1725
and 1754, his significance began to be appreciated only after the turn
of the 20th century, first perhaps by Martin Hardie in 1906, and next
and more clearly by Pierre Gusman in 1916 and Max J. Friedlaender in
1917, when modern artists were committing heresies, among them the
elevation of the woodcut to prominence as a first-hand art form. In this
iconoclastic atmosphere Jackson's almost forgotten chiaroscuros no
longer appeared as failures of technique, for they had been so regarded
by most earlier writers, but as deliberately novel efforts in an
original style. The innovating character of his woodcuts in full color
was also given respectful mention for the first time. But these were
brief assessments in general surveys.

If the woodcut was cheaply held, it was at least acceptable for certain
limited purposes. But printing pictures in color, in any medium, was
considered a weakening of the fiber-- an excursion into prettification
or floridity. It was not esteemed in higher art circles, except for a
short burst at the end of the 18th century in France and England. This
was an important development, admittedly, and the prints were coveted
until quite recently. They are still highly desirable. But while
Bartolozzi stipple engravings or Janinet aquatints in color might have
commanded higher prices than Callots or Goyas, or even than many Duerers
and Rembrandts, no one was fooled. The extreme desirability of the color
prints was mostly a matter of interior decoration: nothing could give a
finer 18th century aura. It was not so much color printing that
mattered; it was _late 18th century_ color printing that was wanted,
often by amateurs who collected nothing else. Color prints before and
after this period did not appeal to discriminating collectors except as
rarities, as exotic offshoots. Even chiaroscuros, with their few sober
tones, fell into this periphery. Jackson, as a result, was naturally
excluded from the main field of attention.

The worship of black-and-white as the highest expression of the graphic
arts[1] automatically placed printmakers in color in one of two
categories: producers of abortive experiments, or