50 3^1 CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND GIVEN IN 1891 BY HENRY WILLIAMS SAGE Cornell Universitv Library ND 50.B91 Pictures and their painters; ttie Inistory 3 1924 008 743 043 DATE DUE JUI4a 443211 .-J TED IN U.6,' PICTURES AND THEIR PAINTERS Piombo. Portrait of Raphael. National Gallery, Budapest.— 5fc page 104. PICTURES AND THEIR PAINTERS ^\)t ^i^tovv ol fainting BY LORINDA MUNSON BRYANT JOHN LANE COMPANY N E W Y O R K . . M C M V I I So 1 COPYBIGHT, 1907, BY JOHN LANE COMPANY THE OITTTXG PRESS DEPOSIT, N. Y. Co iWp pupils CONTENTS PART FIRST ancient fainting; CHAPTER I PACK Egypt — Chaldea — Assyria — Persia ...... 3 CHAPTER II (iuEEK RoJIAX ... ..... 10 Stalian fainting: c;hapter III Cl.MABUE DdCCIO GlOTTO ....... 25 CHAPTER IV T.ADDio Gaddi — Orcagna — Fahkiaxii — Era Axgelico . . . .33 CHAPTER V JM.vsACCio — Era Eilippo Lippi — Eilippixo Lippi — Besozzo Goz- zoi.i .......... 4L' CHAPTER VI )iIanteg.\.a — VivARiNi — Crevelli — Beleiki — C'akpaccio CiM.A. — Messina .......... 4!» chapti:r vii Ghirlaxda.to — Botticelli — \'errocchii) — Lorexzo di Credi (11 X CONTENTS CHATTER Vm FrANCESCA SiGNORELLI — Melozzo DI FoiiLI — Perugino . . 69 PAGE CHAPTER IX PiNTORiccHio — Rosselli — Francia . . - ■ ■ .76 CHAPTER X Leonardo da Vinci — Bernardino Luini . . . . .83 CHAPTER XI Michael Angelo ........ 91 CHAPTER XII Raphael — Romano ........ 102 CHAPTER XIII Sebastiano del Piojibo — Fra Bartoloii.meo — Albertinelli — Andrea del Sarto . . . . . . . .115 CHAPTER XIV Solario — SoDOM.A — Correggio ....... 12S CHAPTER XV Volterra — Vas-Ari — Baroccio ....... 136 l^enetian ^ainttng CHAPTER X'ST Giorgione — Titian ......... 143 CHAPTER X\TI LouENzo Lotto — Paljia Vecchio — iloREXxo — JIoroni . . 1.5.5 CHAPTER X^TII Tintoretto — Paolo Veronese ....... 163 CONTENTS xi Stalian ^aintins— ©ecabtntt CHAPTER XIX PAr;E Caracci — DoMENicHiNO — GuiDO Reni — Carlo Dolci — Cara- VAGGio — Salvator Rosa . . . . . . .173 PART SECOND (TIAPTER XX Irish Painting .......... 1S.5 ©utcf) |9amting CHAPTER XXI Lucas van Leyden — Franz Hals — Rembrandt .... 19.3 CHAPTER XXII Brottwer — BoL — Flinck — ^Iaes — Van der Helst — Ter Borch — Van Ostade ........ 207 CHAPTER XXin DoD — Steen — Metsu — ^'an Meek — Pieter de Hooch — Netscher . 2\o CHAPTER XXIV v-\n goyen ruisdael horbe^ia pottek wouverman ccyp — Van der Velde — Weenix — Israels — Mai've . . . 224 Jflemisff) ^atntins CHAPTER XX\' The Van Eycks — Van der Weyden — Memlinc .... 239 COXTEXTS CHAPTER XXVI PAGE Bouts — Massys — Mabuse — Brueghel — Bril — Kubens • • 249 CHAPTER XXVII Van Dyck — Jordaexs — Texieks — Lely — Ai.ma-Tadema . ■ 256 ^panisf) fainting CHAPTER XXVIII RiBERA — Velasquez — Murillo — CJoy-a — Fortuxy' — Madrazo (Serman fainting CHAPTER XXIX Meisteb Wilhelm — Durer ....... 283 CHAPTER XXX HoLBEix — Craxach ......... 291 CHAPTER XXXI Denxek — Kauffman — Bocklix — Piloty- — Hoffmaxx" — Defregger ilAX Vox UhDE I>EXBACH MUXKACSY .... 3tll jFrcntf) fainting CH.\PTER XXXII The Clouets — Poussi.v — Claude Lorraix — Charles Lebrux^ — Le iSiTEUR — WATTEAir — Nattier — Chardin — Greuze . . 31.5 CHAPTER XX.XIII Dwrri — Prudho.x — Ger.vrd — Lxgres — Cuos — ihrE. Lerrux . 329 CONTENTS xiii CHAPTER XXXIV Geuk'ault — Delacroix — Delakoche — Scheffek — Descamfs — page FnojiEXTix — C'OUTURE ........ 339 CHAPTER XXXV Millet — Rousseau — C'orot — Dautogn-^' — Dfaz — Jules Dupre — Troyox .......... 34.J CHAPTER XX3r\T Jaocjue — Breton — Rosa Bonheur — Cabanel — Gerojie — Puvis de Chavaxxe.s — Bouguereau — Paul Baudky — Coukbet — Meis- sonier — Det.aille — Gustave Dore — Manet — Monet . . 353 Cngltsf) ^aintins CHAPTER XXXVII Hogarth — Reynold.s — Gainsborough ..... 369 CHAPTER XXXVIII Royal Academy — Romney' — R aeburn — Lawkence — Bl.ake — StOTHARD WiLKIE ........ 37S CHAPTER XXXIX Wilsox — Croiie — Constable — Turner — Laxdseer . . . 3SS CHAPTER XL Phe-Raphaelitf; Brotherhood — Hunt — Millais — Rossetti — ■ BURXE-JOXES LeIGHTOX W.ATTS POYXTER . . . 399 American fainting CHAPTER XLI West — Copley — Peale — Stuart — Trumbull — Doughty- — Leutze — IXXE.SS 411 CHAPTER XLII Johnson — Whistler — La Farge — Vedder — Homer — "Mosler — Blashfield — Chase — Alex.axder — Sargent — Marr .421 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PART FIRST Piombo. Portrait of Raphael. National Gallerj', Budapest, Frontispiire FILiURK FACiK 1 The Judgment of the Dead Before the Ciod Osiris. Book of the. Dead .......... .5 2. Arrival of Horde of Semitic Nomads into Egypt, aliout 189.5 B.C. Wall Painting, Tomljs of Beni Hassan . . . (5 3. Portrait llummy. From Tomljs of Fa3'0um, Egypt . 7 4. Assyrian Tiles (Reconstruction). Louvre . . . .9 5. Portrait from Mummy Case. Graf Collection. Vienna. . 11 6. Greek Mu.se of Cortona. Museum of Cortona, Raly . . 12 7. Frescos in a Public House. Pompeii ..... 1.'! 8. Single Dancing Figure. Pompeii. . . . .14 9. Mosaic. Pliny's Doves. Capitolino Museum, Rome . . bi 10. Crypt of St. Cornelius. Catacomb of St. Calixtus, Rome . 1(1 11. The Good Shepherd. Catacombs, Rome . .17 12. Mosaic. Redeemer Surrounded by Saints. Fourth Century. S. Pudenziana, Rome. . . . . . .IN 13. Mosaic. Christ as the Good Shepherd. Ravenna . . .18 14. Mosaic. Ducks and Fishermen. S. Maria in Trastevere, Rome 19 1.5. Mosaic. Empress Theodora and Her Court. Sixth Centurj". San Vitale, Ravenna ....... 2(1 16. Mo.saic. Saint Agnes (detail from Ten Virgins). St. AppoUinare Nuovo, Ravenna ........ 21 17. Cimaljue. Madonna and Child. Santa Maria Novella, Florence 20 18. Duccio. Madonna and Child. National Gallery, London 2.S 19. Giotto. Dante. Bargello, Florence . . .24 20. Giotto. Miracle of St. Francis. Ljjpcr Church, Assisi, Raly . 31 21. Giotto. St. Francis Preaching to the Birds. Upper Church, Assisi, Raly 32 22. Taddio Gaddi. Religion and Philosophy. Santa ilaria No- vella, Florence ........ 33 23. Taddio Gaddi. The Meeting of .loachim and Anna. Santa Croce, Florence ........ 34 XV xvi LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE FH;URK 24. OrcagiKi. Last Judgment (detail). Santa Maria Novella, Florence .......•■ 35 2.5. Gentile da Faljriano. Adoration of the Magi. Academy, Florence .......■■ 37 20. Fra Angelico. Christ and His Two Disciples on the Way to Enmiaus. San Marco, Florence . . . . .38 27. Fra Angelico. Madonna della Stella. San Marco, Florence . 39 2,S. Fra Angelico. Coronation of the Virgin. Louvre, Paris . 40 29. Masaecio. The Tribute Money. S. Maria del Carmine, Florence ......... 42 30. Masaecio. St. Peter Baptising. S. Maria del Camiine, Florence 43 31. Fra Filippo Lippi. Coronation of the Virgin. Academy, Florence ........ 32. Filippino Lippi. Portrait of Artrst. S. Maria del Carmine Florence ........ 33. Masaecio and Filippino Lippi. Detail from The Resurrection of a Child. S. Maria del Carmine, Florence 34. Benozzo Gozzoli. Group of Angels (detail). Piiccardi Palace Florence ........ 35. Mantegna. Mt. Parnassus. Louvre, Paris ... 30. Vivarini, Luigi. Madonna, Child and Saints. Berlin Gallery 37. CrJA-elli Madonna and Child. National Ciallerj', London 38. Giovanni Bellini. Madonna and Child and Two Saints. Acad emj', Venice. ....... 39. Giovanni Bellini. Doge Loredano. National Gallerj', London .55 40. Carpaccio. St. Ursula and Her Father. Academy, Venice 41. Carpaccio. Presentation in the Temple. Academy, Venice 42. Cima. St. John and Four Saints. Venice 43. Messina. An Unknown Man. Louvre, Paris 44. Ghirlandajo. Old Man and Boy. Louvre, Paris . 4.5. Botticelli. Spring. Academy, Florence 46. Botticelli. Coronation of the Virgin. Uffizi, Florence . 47. Verrocchio. Baptism of Christ. Academy, Florence. 45. Lorenzo di Credi. Portrait of Verrocchio. T'ttizi, Florence 49. Francesca. Nativity. National Gallerj-, London . 50. Signorelli. Resurrection. Cathedral of Orvieto, Italy . 51. Melozzo di Forli. Playing Angel. Sacristy of St. Peter's, Rome 72 52. Perugino. Christ Giving Keys to St. Peter. Sistine Chapel, Vatican •••■■■.. 74 .53. Perugino. Assumption of the Virgin. Academy, Florence 54. Pintoricchio. Boy. Koj-al Gallerj', Dresden 55. Pintoricchio. Madonna and Child. Vatican, Rome 5(3. The Si.stine Chapel. Vatican, Rome 57. liosselli. Last Supper. Sistine Chapel, Vatican, Rome 58. J''ranci:i. Unknown Man. Pitti Pal;ice, Florence 44 45 4B 47 50 52 53 54 10 78 79 80 81 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS xvii FIGURI-; PAc;K 59. Leonardo da Vinci. Head of Clirist. Brera Gallery, Milan . 84 ()0. Leonardo da Vinci. The Last Supper (as it is to-day). S. JIaria delle Grazie, Milan . .85 61. Leonardo da Vinci. The Last Supper (from engraving). S. Maria delle Grazie, Milan ...... S5 G2. Ijeonardo da Vinci. Madonna and Child. S. Onofrio, Konie . 8(i (3.3. Leonardo da Vinci. Mona Lisa. Louvre, Paris . .88 64. Bernardino Luini. Marriageof the Virgin. Santuario, Saronno, Italy . . ' 89 65. Michael Angelo. Creation of Adam. The Sistine Chapel, Vatican, Rome ........ 95 66. Michael Angelo, Jeremiah. Sistine Chapel, Vatican, Rome . 96 67. Michael Angelo. Cumfean Sibyl. Sistine Chapel, Vatican, Rome 97 68. Michael Angelo. The Last Judgment. SistineChapel, Vatican, Rome 99 69. Michael Angelo. Christ (detail from Last Judgment). Sistine Chapel, Vatican, Rome 100 70. Michael Angelo. The Fates. Pitti Palace, Florence . 101 71. Raphael. The Marriage of the Virgin. Brera Gallery, Milan, Italy 103 72. Raphael. Portrait of Him.self. Utfizi, Florence . . 104 73. Raphael. Pope Julius II. Uffizi, Florence .... 106 74. Raphael. Parnas.sus. The Vatican, Rome .... 107 75. Raphael. St. Peter Receiving the Ke3'S (tapestry cartoon). South Kensington Museum, London .... 108 76. Raphael. St. Michael and the Dragon. LouA-re, Paris . . 109 77. Raphael. The Sistine Madonna. Dresden Gallery . .111 78. Raphael. The Transfiguration. The Vatican, Rome . . 113 79. Romano. The Dance of the Muses. Pitti Palace, Florence . 114 80. Sebastiano del Piombo. The Raising of Lazarus. National Gallery, London . . . . . . . .116 81. Fra Bartolonmieo. Portrait of Savonarola. San JIarco, Florence ......... 119 82. Fra Bartolommeo. Enthroned Madonna and Saints. Cathe- dral at Lucca, Italy 120 83. Fra Bartolommeo. Mary Magdalene. Florence . . . 121 84. AlbertineUi. The Salutation. Uffizi, Florence . . .122 85. Andrea del Sarto. Madonna and Child (detail). Uffizi, Florence . . . . . . .124 86. Andrea del Sarto. Angel Children. Academj-, Florence . 125 87. Andrea del Sarto. St. Agnes and Lamlx Cathedral, Pisa . 12G 88. Andi-ea del Sarto. Last Supper. San Salvi, Florence . . 127 89. Solario. A Venetian Senator. National Gallery, London . 128 90. II Sodoma. St. Seliastian. Uffizi, Florence .... 1.30 x^'iii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE FIiiURE 91. Correggio. Marriage of St. Catherine. Louvre, Paris . 92. Correggio. Holy Night. Dresden Gallery . 93. Correggio(?). The Reading Magdalene. Dresden Gallerj' 94. Volterra. Descent from the Cross. Church of Trinita de Monti, Rome .....■■ 95. Vasari. Portrait of Lorenzo de' Medici. Uffizi, Florence 96. Baroccio. The Annunciation. Uffizi, Florence 97. Giorgione. Madonna of Castelfranco. Parish Church, Caste! franco, Italy .....•■ 98. Ciiorgione. Knight of Malta. Uffizi, Florence 99. Giorgione. The Concert. Pitti Palace, Florence . 100. Titian. The Tribute Money. Dresden Gallery 101. Titian. Portrait of Himself. Berlin Gallerj- 102. Titian. Portrait of Charles V. The Pinakothek, Munich 103. Titian. Presentation in the Temple. Academy, Venice 104. Titian. The Assumption. Academj', Venice 105. Lorenzo Lotto. The Three Ages of Man. Pitti Palace Florence ........ 106. Palma Vecchio. St. Barbara. Church of Santa Maria For mosa, \^enice ....... 107. Moretto. Supper in the House of Simon. Academy, Venice lOS. Moroni. The Tailor. National Gallery, London . 109. Tintoretto. Minerva Driving Away Mars. Ducal Palace Venice ........ 110. Tintoretto. The Adulteress. Academy, Venice . 111. Veronese. St. Helena. National Gallery, London 112. Veronese. Supper in the House of Simon the Pharisee. Acad emy, Venice ....... 113. Veronese. Adoration of the Magi. Dresden Gallery 114. Caracci. Christ and the Woman of Samaria. Imperial Gallery Vienna ........ 115. Domenichino. Communion of St. Jerome. Vatican, Rome IKi. Ciuido Reni. Aurora. Palazzo Rospigliosi, Rome . 117. Guido Reni. Ecce Homo. Dresden Gallery. 118. Guido Reni. Christ on the Cross. S. Lorenzo in Lucino Rome ....... 119. Carlo Dolci. St. Cecilia. Dresden Gallery . 120. Cara^-aggio. Judith with the Head of Holofernes. Corsini fJallerv, Florence ...... 121. Salvator Rosa. Diogenes Looking for an Honest Man . 132 134 135 137 138 139 144 145 146 149 150 151 152 142 156 158 160 161 164 165 168 169 170 174 172 176 177 178 180 180 181 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS xix PART SECOND FI(;UKi; PAGE 122. Scroll Work on St. Patrick's Bell, Suggested from Design in the Book of Kells 186 187 187 188 123. Drawing of Elephant on Bone. St. Germain, Paris . 124. Monogram " J " from Book of Kells. Trinity College, Dulilin 125. Page from Durham Book, 720 a.d. British Museum, London 126. The Crucifixion. Irish Manuscript Gospels. St. Gall, Switzer- land 188 127. Lucas van Lej'den. An Alchemist. Academy di S. Luca, Rome 194 128. Franz Hals. Corjjs of Archers of St. Andrews. Haarlem, Holland 196 129. Franz Hals. Hille Bobbe. Berlin Gallery . . .197 130. Franz Hals. The Jester. Ryks Museum, Amsterdam, HoUand 198 131. Rembrandt. Portrait of Himself . National Galleiy, London . 198 132. Rembrandt. Portrait of Remljrandt and His Wife, Saskia, Dresden 199 133. Remlirandt. The School of Anatomy. Picture Gallery, The Hague, Holland 192 134. Rembrandt. Portrait of a Lady. Liechtenstein Gallerj', Vienna ......... 184 135. Remlirandt. The Night Watch. The Ryks Museum, Amster- dam, Holland 201 136. Remljrandt. Supper at Emmaus. Louvre, Paris . . . 202 137. Rembrandt. Portrait of Artist's Mother. Imperial Jluseurn, Vienna 204 13S. Rembrandt. The Cloth Merchants. Ryks Museum, Amster- dam, Holland ........ 205 139. Brouwer. Domestic Scene. Picture Gallery, The Hague, H!ol- land 207 140. Ferdinand Bob The Repose in Egypt. Dresden . . . 208 141. Govert Flinck. Portrait of Young Girl. Louvre, Paris . . 209 142. Maes. Le Benedicite. Louvre, Paris ..... 210 143. Van der Heist. The Banquet of Civic Guards. Ryks Mu.seum, Amsterdam . . . .212 144. Ter Borch. Officer C>ffering Money to the Young Woman. Lo\ivre, Paris ........ 213 145. VanOstade. The Fish Market. Louvre, Paris . . .214 146. Dou. The Dropsical Woman. Louvre, Paris . . . 215 147. Jan Steen. Christmas. Ryl^s Museum, Amsterdam . . 216 148. Jan Steen. The Village Festi^-al. Metropolitan Museum, New York City 217 149. Metsu. The Familv of Gelfing. Roval Gallerv. Berlin . .218 221 ■>9> 230 231 232 233 XX LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS FioTjBE . '';^°"= 150. Met™. Un Militaire Recevant une Jeune Dame. Louvre, Paris 219 151. Ver Meer. A Young Woman Opening a Window. Metropoli- tan Museum, New Yorlc City . . ■ • • •^-" 152. Pieter de Hooch. A Dutch Interior. Metropolitan Museum, New York City .....■•■ 153. Netscher. The Song Accompanied ))y the Piano. Dresden Gallery ......•■■ 154. Jan van Goyen. Summer on the River. Dresden Gallery . 224 155. Jan van Goyen. Marine View ...... 225 156. Jacob van Ruisdael. The Thicket 226 157. Hobbema. The Avenue. National Gallerj', London . . 227 15S. Potter. The Young Bull. Picture Gallery, The Hague, Hol- land 228 159. Wou-verman. The Return from the Hunt. Dresden Gallerj' . 229 160. Aelbert Cuyp. La Promenade. Louvre, Paris 161. Van de Velde. The Sea Avith Shipping. Picture Gallery, The Hag\ie ....... 162. Jan Weenix. The Seaport. Louvre, Paris . 163. Jo.sef Israels. The Evening Meal. 164. Mauve. Shepherd with Sheep. Metropolitan Musonu, New Y^ork City 234 165. From a Broviarjr. British Museum, London .... 240 16(). Hubert and Jan van Eyclc. The Adoration of the Lamb. Ghent, Belgium ........ 242 l(i7. Jan \nn Eyck. The Virgin and Donor. Louvre, Paris . . 243 168. Roger van der Weyden. The Naming of Little St. John. Berlin Museum ........ 244 169. Roger van der Weyden. The Magi Worshiping the Star. Berlin Museum ........ 245 170. Memlinc. Reliquary of St. Ursula. Hospital of St. John, Bniges, Belgium ........ 246 171. Memlinc. St. Ursula and Maidens. The Hospital of St. Jolm, Bruges, Belgium ........ 246 172. Memlinc. The Virgin and Child Adored l;)y Donors. Lomre, Paris 247 ast Supper. St. Peter's, Louvain, Belgium . . 249 The Banker and His AVife. Louvre, Paris . . 250 Madonna and Child. Berlin GaUer\' 251 The Blind Leading the Blind. Louvre, Paris 252 Roman Ruins. Dresden Gallery .... 253 Helena Fourment (Ruljens' wife) and Her Two Chil- Louvre, Paris ..... 254 Chapeau de Paille. National Galler>-, Lontlon 255 The Descent from the Cross. Antwerp Cathedral 238 Charles I, and His Horse. Louvre, Paris 257 173. Bouts. L 174. Mass^'s. 175. Mabu.se. 176. Brueghel. 177. Paul Bril. 178. Rubens. dren. 179. Rubens. ISO. Rubens. 181. Van D3'ck LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS XXI FUJURK 182. 183. 184. 185. 186. 187. 188. 189. 190. 191. 192. 193. 194. 195. 19(3. 197. 19,S. 199. 200. 201. 202. 203. 204. 205. 206. 207. 208. 209. 210. 211. 212. 213. 214. 215. 216. 217. 218. 219. 220. Van Dyck. The Madonna and Donors. Louvre, Paris . Van Dj'ck. The Children of Charles I. Picture Gallery Turin, Ifaty. ....... Jordaens. Driving Out the Monej' Lenders. Louvre, Paris Teniers. The Village Fete. Dresden Ciallery Lely. Nell Gwyn. National Gallery, London Alma-Taderna. Cleopatra Meeting Anthony. Ribera. The Adoration of the Shepherds. Louvre, Paris Velasquez. Portrait of the Artist. Munich . Velasquez. Philip IV. The Marquis of Lansdowne's Collect ioi London ........ Velasquez. LTnfante Marguerite. Louvre, Paris . Vela.squez. A Portrait of Allesandro del Borro. Berlin Gallery Murillo. The Melon Eaters. The Pinakothek, Munich. Murillo. The Immaculate Conception. Salon Carre of the Louvre, Paris ....... Murillo. St. Anthony and the Christ Child, Beriin Gallerj' Goya. Portrait of Don Sebastian Martinez. Metropolitan Museum, Ne\\ York City ..... Fortuny. The Spanish Marriage. Private Collection, Pari Madrazo. The Masquerade ..... Meister Wilhelm. Madonna of the Bean Flower. Cologne Gallery . ....... Hans Holbein. The Dance of Death .... Diirer. Portrait of the Artist by Himself. Munich Gallery Diirer. Christ on the Cross. Dresden Gallery Diirer. The Knight, Death and the Devil Diirer. Charlemagne. Nuremburg Gallery, Germany . Diirer. St. Paul and St. Mark, from The Four Apostles Mmiich Galleiy ...... Holbein. Portrait of Erasmus. Louvre, Paris Dance of Death ...... Portrait of Henrj' VIII. Windsor Castle, England Portrait Drawing of Henry VIII. Munich, Germany The Jleyer Madonna. Darmstadt, Germany The Meyer Madonna. Dresden Gallery. Portrait of Luther. Utfizi. Florence A Patrician. Berlin Gallery, Germany . Head of an Old Man. Mimich Galleiy . Vestal Virgin. Dresden Gallerv . Holbein. Holbein. Holbein. Holbein. Holljein. Cranach. Cranach. Denner. Kauffraan Bticklin. The Centaiir at the Village Smithy . Piloty. Nero Walking Among the Ruins of Rome Hoffmann. Christ Before the Doctors. Dresden Ctallerj' Defregger. The Meal of the Hunters Max. The Lion's Bride 258 259 260 261 262 263 269 270 271 272 273 274 266 276 278 278 279 284 285 286 287 282 288 289 292 293 294 295 296 297 298 299 302 303 305 306 307 30S 309 xxii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS fi.:urj: '''^"'^ 221. Von Uhde. Christ in the Peasant's Hut. Luxembourg Gal- lery, Parrs 310 222. Von Lenbach. Portrait of Bismarck ..... 311 223. Munkacsy. The Last Day of the Condemned Man. Private Gallery, Philadelphia 312 224. Matilda. Bayeiix Tapestry. Hotel de Ville, Bayeux, France 315 225. Francois Clouet. Portrait of Elizal)eth of Austria. Louvre, Paris 316 226. Poussin. Arcadian Shepherds. Royal Institution, Liverpool. England . . . ' 318 227. Claude Lorrain. Landscape. National Gallery, London. . .319 228. Charles Lebrun. Chri.st ni the Desert "Waited on ]>y Angels. Louvre, Paris 320 229. I^e Sueur. Jesus and the Magdalene in the Garden. Lou\Te, Paris 321 230. Watteau. Eml>arkation for Cythere. Louvre, Paris . . 322 231. Nattier. The Magdalene. Louvre, Paris . . . .323 232. Chardui. Still Life. La Craze Collection, Louvre. Paris. . 324 233. Chardin. The Bles.sing. Louvre. Paris .... 32.5 234. Greuze. Maidenhood. National Gallery, London . . . 326 23.5. Gre\ize. The Broken Pitcher. Louvre, Paris . . .327 2.36. Greuze. The Father's Curse. Louvre, Paris. . . . 328 237, David. The Coronation of Napoleon and Josephine. Louvre, Paris 330 238, David. Madame Recamier, Louvre, Paris .... 331 239, Prudhon. The As.sunrption. Lou^•re, Paris .... 332 240, Gerard. Madame Recamier. Lou\"re, Paris. . . . 333 241, Ingres. The Source. Louvre, Paris ..... 334 242, (Jros. The Vi.sit of Francis I. and Charles V, to the Royal Tombs at Saint Denis ,,,,,,. .335 243, Madame Leiirun. Portrait of tlie Artist and Her Daughter, Louvre, Paris ,,,,,,,, 336 244, Madame Lelirun, Marie Antoinette and Her Children, Ver- sailles, France ,,,.,.., 337 245, Gericault, The Raft of the Medusa, Louvre, Paris , 340 246, Delacroix, Ma.ssacre of Chios. Louvre, Paris . 341 247, Delaroche, Detail from the Hemicycle, Palace of the Beaux- Arts, Paris .342 248, Scheffer, St, Augustine and His Mother, Louvre, Paris . 342 249, Decamps. The Foimdling. Luxembourg Gallery, Paris . 343 2,50, Fromentin, The Falcon Hunt 343 251, Coutuie, The Ronuuis of the Decadence, Louvre, Paris , 344 252, Millet, The Sower, MetropoHtan Museum, New York Citv . 346 253, Rousseau, The Edge of the Woods, Metropolitan Museum, New York City ,,,... 347 LIST OF ILLL'STRATIOXS FIiiURE 2.34. Corot. Dance of the Xymphs. Louvre, Paris . . 314 2.5.5. Daubigny. Morning, iletropolitan Museum, Xew Vnri< City 349 2.56. Diaz. No Admittance. In a private collection, .\nt\vciii . 3.50 2.57. Pupre. The Hay Wagon. Metropolitan JIu.seum, Xew ^'ork City 351 2.58. Troyon. Cattle Going to Work. Louvre, Paris . 351 2.59. Jacque. The Sheepfold. Metropolitan Museum, Xew Yoric City 353 200. Breton. Theondon. 394 291. Land.seer. Shoeing the Bay Mare. National Gallery, London . 396 292. Hunt. The Light of the ^^'orld. Kelile College, Oxford, England 400 293. Rossetti. Veronica Veronese. Private Cbllection, England . 401 294. Millais. Innocence 402 29.T. Leighton. Andromache ....... 403 296. Burne-.Iones. The Golden Stairs. Owned by Lord Buttersea, London ......... 40.5 297. Watts. Orpheus and Eurydice. Tate Gallery, London . . 406 298. Watts. Cardinal Newman. National Portrait Gallery, London 398 299. Poynter. Catapult. Liverpool ...... 407 300. We.st. St. Peter Denying Chri.st. Hampton Court, England. 412 .301. Peale. Portrait of Washington. Metropolitan Museum, New York City 414 .302. Stuart. Athenseum Portrait of Washington. Boston Mu.seum of Fine Arts ........ 41.5 •303. Trumbull. Portrait of Alexander Hamilton. Metropolitan Museum, New York City ...... 416 304. Doughty. On the Hudson. Metropolitan Mu.seum, Ne\\ York City 417 305. Leutze. Washington Crcssing the Delaware. Jletropolitan Museum, New York City ...... 418 306. Inness. The Delaware Valle\-. Metropolitan Museiun, New York City 419 307. Inness. Landscape. Metropolitan Museum, New York City . 419 308. Johnson. The Old Kentucky Home. Paris Salon of 1867 . 422 309. Whistler. Portrait of the Artist's Mother. Luxembourg, Paris 410 310. Vedder. Panel from Bowdoin Art Buildhig .... 425 311. Mosler. The Prodigal's Return. Luxembourg, Paris . . 426 312. Blashfield. Uses of Wealth. Cleveland, Ohio . . .428 313. Chase. Portrait of Young Woman. Metropolitan Museum, New York City . ' 429 314. Alexander. Portrait of Walt Whitman, iletropolitan Museum, Ne«- York City 430 315. Sargent. Carraencita. Luxembourg, Paris .... 431 316. Sargent. Ellen Terry as Lady Macbeth. Tate Ctallery, London 432 317. ilarr. The Wandering Jew. Metropolitan Museum, New York Citv 434 ERRATUM. In third hue cm page .'i'2S, and caption for Fig. •iSii. substitute '"The Villa're Bride" fur "The Father's Curse." INTRODUCTION REQUESTS have come to me again and again from college men, students, teachers, and home-keepers to recom- mend a sliort, comprehensive, interesting history of painting; one that would give a fair grasp of the subject in a limited amount of time. The word "interesting" seemed to be the keynote in the majority of cases. That time, within reason- able limits, is always found for what is really interesting, has become a truism. I examined numberless works on painting; liut in the multitude of books on the subject — admirable ones, too — found nothing just suited to the needs of people too busy to give time to its exhaustive study. In the meantime my own notes on painting were being used by teachers and students in many communities. The thought came to me, "Why not write the book myself and supply an evident need of these busy people?" Out of that thought has grown the present volume. As a preparation for this work it was my good fortune for nearly ten years to be a member of the facult}^ of Ogontz School, Pa., where I had the privilege of attending the weekly art talks of ^liss Sylvia J. Eastman, the principal. Her enthusiasm, her \\'ide reading, and keen artistic sense, were very inspiring. For years her large art library and thousands of reproductions of various kinds have supplemented my own collection. Her wide experience in foreign lands was invaluable to me as we visited together the art galleries of this country and of Europe. In gathering the photographs for illustration, my object has been, not only to give the most characteristic examples of each artist's work, but those which would best illustrate the tendencies of the times which produced them, or particular phases of history, legend, or story. Scattered through the book are portraits of great reformers, political leaders, prominent XXV xxvi IXTRUDUCTIUX rulei's, and men of letters, painted by artists of their own ages. In this wa}' the master minds in histor.y and in art are con- nected with the woi'Id's great historical events. Xo time or trouljle has been spared in consulting history, Ijiography, the Biljle, the Apocrypha, mytholog}-, and legend to cull facts and incidents which may hold the attention of the leader. The Renaissance of art stud)' is with us. If only the mind of the young can be held until whatsoever is true and noble and uplifting in the grand Old Masters is stamped upon it, the outlook for the youth of America will be from a higher plane and one that will count for nobler principles in the future. In "Pictures and Their Painters," no attempt has been made to exhaust the subject considered, but to awaken such an interest in it that the reader may haA'e a keen desire to pursue the study into broader fields. LoKixDA ^Irx.sux Bryaxt. Deposit, X. Y., XOVEMBEK 27, 1906. ^art Jf irsft P.AJNTING IN EASTERN AND SOUTHERN COUNTRIES ANCIENT PAINTING " The more thou learnest to know and enjoy, the more com- plete and full will be jar thee the delight of living." — Platex. CHAPTER I EGYPT — CHALDEA — ASSYRIA PERSIA ri^HROUGH many long centuries of growth the perfect fruit I of tlie painter, tlie ideal picture, was ripening. Some of the earliest specimens of painting are found in Egypt in that dim past when man began to write his history in crude pictures. The Egyptian's desire to live for future generations — one of his marked characteristics — was shown in his exclusive use of stone as the material for his palaces, houses, temples, and monuments; to give greater durability he selected the largest blocks that could be found, and added to their interest by cutting his history deep on the surface in hieroglyphics and picture stories in outline. In the excessive heat and light of this eciuatorial country these stone buildings were exceedingly cool and pleasant as dwelling places, but they would have been gloomy indeed with- out the decorations in brilliant colors that adorn the walls. The figures drawn on these walls were mere outlines in flat profile, filled in, according to the taste of the decorator, with green, red, yellow, or blue. There was no perspective, the human figure was usually shown \\'ith the side ^iew of the face and a front view of the shoulders, giving an awkward twist to the body. There is little expression to the face and no anatomy to the human frame. This kind of painting never advanced nor varied in the thousands of years of Egyptian civilization. Pliny remarks "the pictures and statues made (by the Egyptian) ten thousand years ago, are in no particular Ijetter or worse than those they now make." Of painting, however, according to the modern idea, they knew absolutely nothing. The leading motive in their painting was, no doubt, the religious observances of the nation, as it was in Italy at a later 3 4 ANCIENT PAINTING date, but in Egypt these olDservances were always connected with the king, since the relationship between the monarch and the deities was very close. Then, too, nature was endowed with god-like ciualities and certain animals were held sacred. All these furnished good themes for painting but the Egyptian painter used them chiefly for recording history, adding a bit of color for decoi-ation. The religion of the Egyptian centered about the thought of death and life after death. It was believed that the soul when released from the body must go on a long journey before it would reach its last resting place, and that it had the pri\-ilege of returning to its old home and even occupying its former bod}- again. .Many strange stories are found pictured on the mummj'-cases and the walls of those chambers of the dead, told in that curious symbolic writing — the hieroglyphics — of the " Passage of the Soul after Death." Each step in the souls progress on that long journey is made familiar to the mourning relative or friend. In reading this picture writing the Egypt- ologist has given to the world a fairlj^ concL-^e history of the belief of this ancient people concerning the life of the departed. In the city of Thebes was found a papyrus of the so-called ''Book of the Dead," in which one scene, "The Judgment of the Dead Ijefore the God Osiris, on the subterranean Hall of .Jus- tice" (Fig. 1), taken from the 12.5tli chapter, is specially inter- esting: "Osiris, the judge of the Underworld, is sitting in a Naos. On the opposite side the goddess of Truth and .Justice Ma, leads the deceased into the house which rests on columns. A jxiir of scales are erected in the middle of the room. In one of the scales lies a vase with handles, the symbol of the heart, in the other the cmldem of truth, a feather. Horus and Anubis are weighing and watching the tongue of the scales. Above it sits the cynocephalus (baboon) Hapi, as symbol of measure. Before the scales stands the Ibis-headed Toth, the scribe of the gods, and enters the result of the ^Aeighing on a j^apyrus. Be- tween him and Osiris sits a female hippopotamus, Amam, called the swallower, as accuser of the deceased, whom Toth defends (or justifies) if he has Yived uj^rightly. In the upjier division of tlie hall the deceased prays befurc the forty-t\\() judges of EGYPT 5 the dead, each carrying a different head, ever}' one of whom wears the feather of truth and is appointed to judge of some particular sin, to the commission of which the deceased pleads not guilty in the text of the sulmiitted pap}-rus." The Egyptian, like the child, needed but little to stimulate his imagination and satisfy his artistic sense. Out of the belief of the journej' of the soul grew the custom of embalming. The ceremonies connected with the preparation of the body were elaborate. The tombs for the reception of these embalmed f}. , Hilli li,, I I Fig. 1. — The Judgment of the Dead before the God Osiris. Book of the Dead. bodies must not only he built for all time, but they must contain a written history of the deceased. As the monarch was the principal person in the kingdom he is always represented much larger than the other figures; making it easy to recognize the king by the size of the figure. His presence among the mourners in these pictured ceremonies on the walls of the tomli, often determined the rank of the departed one. There being no perspective, many devices were necessary to indicate the dif- ferent objects represented; a crowd of people was shown l.iy placing one figure above another and increasing or diminishing the size; water was a wavy line; one tree or one house might mean a number of trees or houses. The Hyksos or Shepherd Kings, who came from x\sia — possibly from Northwestern Arabia, conc|uered Egypt some 6 ANCIEXT PAINTING authorities saj- as early as 2100 B.C. They estabHshed the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth dynasties making their capital Zoan of Northern Egypt. It was during their reign that Joseph was viceroy under Pharaoh Apophis. These peo- ple may have belonged to the same Semitic race as the Hebrews themselves although it is still a matter of dispute regarding their nationality. "An old Egyptian wall painting in a grave of Beni-Hassan, in Middle Egypt," with the title of "The arrival of a horde of Semitic Nomads into Egypt, around the year 1895 b.c." (Fig. 2), gives one a good idea of the appearance of these invading people and also shows the skill of their artists in depicting genre scenes. When Alexander the Great founded in Eg3'pt the city called bj' his name 332 B.C., the whole country acknowledged his Fig. 2, — Arrival of Horde of Semitic Nomads into Egypt, about 1895 B.C. Wall Painting, Tombs of Beni Hassan. power. He brought many of his countrymen with him from Greece and settled them along the Nile. The Egyptians with their ancient and less progressive civilization, were cjuick to learn many things from this people whose manners, customs, and arts were more highly developed than their own. Their religion alone remained intact, and this the colonizing Greek soon adopted as his own. It was not until 1SS7 that the extent of the Greek influence on the art of painting in Egypt was reallv known. A party of English arcliaeol- ogists, in searching the west side of the Nile for ancient monuments, came to the extensive oasis of Fayoum. At the \ery edge of the desert was a small town with an ancient bury- ing ground, and in exctnating here the ex]ilorers found a num- ber of jiainted panels — portraits of men. women and children — which ]5roved to be of Greek workmanship. It was the custom of the Egyptians to place )Dortrait busts at the head of EGYPT each boch' that the soul might recognize its former home ^^■ith certainty. Tliese painted panels were placed in the munmn- wrappings at the head (Fig. .3), and were, without doubt, portraits of the eiribalmed persons — possibly the first real jjor- traits ever painted of the Egyptian. Some authorities assign these panels to the fourth century B.C. while other critics place them as late as the second century a.d. A number of the ]ianels are in the National Gallery, London. They are made of cypress, sj-camore, and papier-mache and are about fourteen inches long and half as wide. The colors were mixed with liquid wax instead of oil and were of mineral or- igin — such as lapis-lazuli, green malachite, red oxide of iron, etc., each of mar\-clous brilliancy and permanency — blended with a lancet-shaped spatula and then burned in b}' a process called encaustic. George Ebers believes that the heat of the sun in Egypt was prol^abh' sufficient to complete the ar- tist's work. It is hardly possible that these paintings could have been preserved in any country but Egypt, where the saying is, "the driest thing that nature ever made is the sand of the desert." While the liest and most remarkalile ex- amples of PZgyptian Art are those of the earliest period of her history, when the center of go^•ernment was at ilemphis in Lower Eg^-pt, there was ne^-er that individuality in portraiture that was so marked a characteristic of the Greek artists from the very beginning of their art history. The Egyptian was at best simph- a skilled mechanic, using figures and colors to decorate and tell a story in the simplest manner. When the Greeks came into Egypt they gave the native workman new methods which onh' de- prived him of some of his former simplicity and directness and did not make him an artist. In fact all Egyptian art declined from the Greek period and became simply imitative. Fin, 3. — Portrait llum- m>'. From Tombs of Fayoum, Egj"]jt. ANCIENT PAINTING CHALDEA ASSYRIA PERSIA No section of eountry to-day is attracting more attention through the worlv of the excavator than the valleys along the Tigris and Euphrates rivers and around the Persian Gulf. That the Chaldean, Assyrian and Persian peoples were as strong a civihzing influence in the history of the past as the Egyptians were, is being abundantl}' proved. The spade of the archffiologist is revealing records of artistic and literary develoiDment to far exceed the most extravagant suppositions. Having no hard stone these nations preserved their history on enameled or glazed brick or tile which was as permanent as that of the Egyptian .stone. The history of painting in these countries was not unlike that of Elgypt, the main difference being due to the fact that, in these eastern lands, the monarch was more absolute and the cai'e of the dead less ostentatious. It was thought until recently that the Assyrians had no tombs and what they did ^^■ith their dead was a mystery, but late excavations have brought to light stone coffins of curious shapes which are solving that mystery. Their temples were insignificant compared to their palaces, for their religion was spiritual in its nature with a tendency to worship the One True Clod. This was probaljly due to the pure Semitic origin of the Assyrians. Their palaces were magnificent buildings, elaborately decorated, which deco- ration supplemented the architecture as well as told the story of the king's life in war and in peace. IMany of the ornamental designs used in the border patterns ^^'ere most elaborate in detail work, often the representation of the dress of the time was so realistic that it would be possible to model a superb gown with its profusion of embroidery, lace, fringe, jewels, and flowers from the bas-reliefs. Even to-day the brilliancy of the colors shows the gorgeousness of the original decorations. One of tlie favorite arrangements of figures in the designs was to place them in rows, each figure following the one before, so that they ajipeared to be marching, ^iiich gave a sense of motion that was one of the finest ciualities of their art, but there '\\"as no sense of perspecti\-e or of light and shade. PERSIA 9 Probabl,y the highest artistic development was in Chaldea and Assj'i'ia. By tlie time Persia liad become an inheritor of their civihzation the art instinct was a mere desire to imitate, and the work produced was an imitation lacking the strength of originality. In the Museum of the Louvre, Paris, are some Fig. 4. — Assyrian Tiles (Reconstruction). Louvre. decorated tiles from Susa, Persia (Fig. 4), which show men marching. This is a reconstruction from a miscellaneous find of painted tiles Ijut the effect is like that of the original decora- tions. With all the stiffness of the conventional design in style of dress, position of body, and sameness of physiogiiomj^ there is still preserved that sense of freedom which the possibility of motion alwaj's gives. CHAPTER II GREEK AND ROMAN PAINTING is said to have reached perfection among the Greeks. It is not known when the}' began to practice this art but Phny remarks tliat Homer does not mention painting. We are assured by some ancient writers that there was a long line of Greek artists, and in some cases even names are mentioned. Probably there were many years of develop- ment before we come to Polygnotus, a painter of renown, who is mentioned as arriving in Athens 436 b.c. Again quoting from Plin}', he says that Polygnotus was the first man to throw off the early rigidity of maimer and gi^•e expression to the face; he painted the lips open and the eyes smiling as though the model was a living being and not car\-ecl from wood; he is also supposed to have invented painting in encaustic. This founder of Greek painting, as Polygnotus was often called, is spoken of by Pau.sanius as painting a series of mythological subjects in the building on the Acropolis at Athens. There are no examples of this very early period of Greek painting that can be identified with certainty. Zeuxis and Parrhasius flourished during the Peloponnesian War, the latter part of the fifth century B.C. These men are spoken of as rivals in producing an art so exact in recording nature that even the birds were decei^'ed bj' a bunch of grapes as painted by Zeuxis. His rival carried the illusion still further by deceiving Zeuxis with a painted curtain which the latter tried to draw aside. These artists must have under- stood color, modeling, and relief to a remarkable degree to produce effects so real; Ijut such exactness would hardly be considered good art to-day. The greatest j^ainter of this early date was Apelles, fourth centur}' B.r., who was celebrated as the court painter of Alex- 10 GREECE 11 ander the Great. This monarch, it is said, would allow no one to paint his portrait but this favorite. Apelles ma}' have Ijeen the artist who first painted portrait panels like those found at Fayoum; possibly some of these portraits may ha\-e been b}- him. Certain it is that he was noted in his time for grace, charm, and rich coloring, all of which qualities these paintings possess. Nothing could be more interesting to us to-day than the pictures of these fine-looking men and women. They show us not onljr the skill of the artist as a portrait painter but the style of dress that prevailed at the time. Beautiful indeed are some of these women of the Nile as seen in the Fayoum por- trait (Fig. 5). Look how the shadows around the large, dark eyes mellow their liquid depths! How the arched e3'ebrows and straight nose, with its delicate nos- trils, mark the pride of the haught}' mis- tress, and how well the full red lips tell her power to please her suitors! The modern coiffure of her dark, luxuriant hair, the beads around her shapely neck, and the graceful folds of the gown over her shoulders and bust, are another proof of the wisdom of Solomon when he said "There is nothing new under the sun." It is said that .seventeen hundred years after Apelles, Botticelli, in Italy, tried to reproduce his cele- brated "Calumn}'" from Lucian's description of the Greek artist's painting. We have records of the great money value of Greek paintings that date back to 320 b.c. One report is that Ptolemy I. offered Nikias (340-300 B.C.) $70,000 for one painting. This artist was a contemporary of Praxiteles antl probably tinted some of his statuar3^ Specimens of Greek painting have Ijeen found in some of the ancient towns of Italy that may lia^-e l_ieen brought ovev by the conquering Roman as trophies of his prowess. In the ^luseum at Cortona, one of the oldest cities of Italy, is the so- called ".Muse of Cortona" (Fig. 6). Just what the age of this Fig. 5. — Portrait from Mummy Case. Graf Collection, ^'ienna. 12 ANCIENT PAINTING painting is, or wliether it was brought from Greece, may be ((uestions that cannot he answered with certaintj-, but we believe that it is an ancient Greek encaustic painting, and most pro)>a)jly the oldest painting, not fresco, in the world. Certain!}- it has the classic mold of features and the poetic rhythm of the genuine Greek portrait. There is that perfection of form, of feature, and moral pose that comes from a con.stant seeking after the ideal that characterized the Greeks as a people. The completeness of the physical, mental, and moral being was the un- derlying principle of their art; in fact it was the keynote of their life and the keystone to their re- ligion. That this "^luse of Cortona" was at least a replica of a painting by Pausias of Sieyon, is fairly certain. Pliny writes of a painting by this artist. called "Glycera, the Gar- land Weaver," and his description corresponds exactly with this paint- ing; then he says further that a replica was made which was brought into Ital}' before 56 B.C. The picture is on slate and was found b}* a farmer while plowing near Cor- tona in 1732. He took it to be a representation of the "\'irgin Mary; but the priest, who was called to see the peasant's sick wife, pronounced it a "vile pagan picture." Not wishing to have it hung on his wall, the peasant, evidently thinking to puiifv it, used it as a door to his oven. After several years of tliis purifying heat, and twice changing owners, it was deposited in the .Museum at Cortona in 1S51. The figure of the "Muse" is about two-thirds life size. Fig. 6. -Greek. Muse of Cortona. Museum of Cortona, Italy. POMPEII 13 EARLY PAINTING IN ITALY In studying the earlj^ painters of Italy, we find tliat tlieir works are copies of the Greek masters, and that these copies have been preser-\-ed under tlie most pecuHar circumstances. Nearly nineteen hundred years ago the to"wn of Pompeii was C(jvered by the ashes of Vesuvius, and it remained buried from sight for almost eighteen hundred years. When the town was again brought to light some of the most interesting things in the excavated houses were the mural decorations. His- tory says that l^etween the partial destruction of Pom- peii bjf the great earth- quake of A.D. 63, and the final catastrophe of a.d. 79, the city w^as reljuilt and redecorated by order of the Roman Senate. This work was e^•idently done ),>)' skilled artisans and gives evidence of the ar- tistic abilitv of the work- men of that da}-. The designs for the pictures were taken and these patterns were originally. ■Frescos in a Public House. Ponijieii. from pattei-n books, no doutit, co]3ies of paintings of superior artists of the earh' Greek school — the originals iDeing lost. When first unco^-ered, the colors of these decorations are exceedingly brilliant, and even after exposure to the light and air they still retain their pristine Ijeauty to a remarkable degree. The usual l^ackgj'ound colors are a warm red (called "Pompeian red"), black, and yellow. ^lany times the walls are simjjly covered with plain colors, arranged in panels with variegated bands around the outside edge. A ■\-ery good example of the plain liackground is seen in the 14 ANCIENT PAINTING Fir,. R. — Single Danc- ing Figure. Pompeii. "Frescos in a Public House " (Fig. 7), Pompeii. In these frescos the simple pattern of the surrounding band and the single unique figures in the central panel correspond admirably with the severe plainness of the room. Some- times there are figure pieces and bits of landscapes with borders of delicate foliage and beautiful flowers. The symmeti'j' of the wall pictures shows a strict architec- tural arrangement in harmonizing decora- tion and construction. Some of the " Single Dancing Figures" (Fig. 8) are of exquisite beauty and grace. The subjects of most of the paintings are taken from the world of fable; the aim seems to have been to keep before the eye everything that is joyous and beautiful. These paintings at Pompeii are either in fresco, on wet or fresh hme (fresco meaning fresh), or on drj- ground in distemper (pig- ments mixed with weak glue or size). AA'hen the so-called house of Tiberius was excavated in 1869 the wall paintings uncovered were found to be of rare excellence. Most of the im- portant frescos have been removed from Pompeii to the Mu.seum at Naples and other museums. In uncovering the ruins of early Roman houses many decorations in mosaic are found. These mosaics are pictures made of cubes of colored glass or colored stone. One of the most beautiful of the smaller pieces is the mosaic of "Doves on a Fountain-ljasin" (Fig. 9), in the Capitoline ^luseum, Rome. Tliis one was found in Hadrian's Villa near Tivoli in 1737. The "Doves" are often called "Pliny's Doves," as, in a description of the excellence of the art of the time, he says, "At Pergamos is a wonderful specimen of a do^■e drinking, and darkening the water ^vith the shadow of her head; on the lip of the ^-essel are other doves pluming themselves." He also speaks of them "as the wcn-k of Sosus existing at Pergamos." It i.s possible, however, that these are only copies of that artist's work. Pictures in mosaics are as beautiful to-day as when they came from the hand of the artificer hundreds of years ago. In ROME 16 the museums of Rome are beautiful mosaic floors taken from the ruins of that city that date back before the Christian era. The models or cartoons for these mosaics were probably earl)' paintings of Greek artists. Cicero, writing in the first centurj- B.C., about the temple of iMinerva in Sicily, and describing the pictures of the Greek artists, says of one, "There is not a picture which is more famous, or which attracts a larger ^I^^^^^K^ wff J^jf '^^^P^^^^^^l ^^BP^^^^^^^^^^K^ wfriSS^^^^^ '^'^^'^■^M ^!!I^Mi ^^^^^pl BHBBB^I^^B^^^^^l^'Vf. ^ '' Fic. 9. — Mosaic. Pliny's Doves. Capitoline Museum, Konie. number of strangers." Unfortunately he does not give the name of either the artist or his picture. The themes in painting in Greece and also in Rome were taken largely from mythological stories and ancient fables. The religious tradition of these nations was full of fantastic tales of the marvelous feats of semi-human beings which furnished good subjects for painting. The artists rejoiced in representing the beauties of natural objects, whether the object was the perfect flower or the perfect human laeing. With the coming of the Christian religion from Palestine a new motive entered into the life of the Roman. Christ had taught His disciples that spiritual beauty was greater than physical and moral beautj'. These Roman converts, with their inherited artistic tendencies where the perfection of form was the ideal. 10 ANCIENT PAIXTIXG were at a loss just how to combine the beauty of the spiritual and ph}'sical natures. Rome ^vas going through a transition stage and was already losing the glory of the Casars. The excessive luxurj- in daily li\-ing was making her weak and effeminate, which showed itself in all that she did, but in nothing more than in the fine aits. Not even Christianity, that was beginning to take hold of the hearts of the jDeople, with all its uplifting power, could stop the gradual decline of the intellectual and social life of the Roman. In fact the new religion was not received with favor at court; Jewish and Roman Cliristians were alike persecuted, which seemed to furnish new amusement to the degenerate Roman. No crime was too great to lay at the door of the Christians, and no torture too cruel for pun- ishment. They were dri-\-en from their homes and hunted like wild beasts. The onl}- safe places for these sufferers for Christ's sake were the Cata- combs outside the walls of Rome. These subterranean chambers had been the burial places of wealthy classes for generations, and are among the stupendous wonders of antiquity. Cicero refers to them in one of his orations. The Catacombs are from fifty to seventy-five feet below the surface of the earth and have from four to six stories. It is estimated that they coA-er about eight hundred miles and have entonil^ed from six to seven million dead l^odies. In these places of the dead the Chiistians of Rome lived and worshiped and made new chamliers for the l3urial of their own (lead. It is hard to realize in going through these dark under- ground chaml^ers, surrounded bv shelves on wliich rest the Fig. 10. — Crypt of St. Cornelius. Cat comb of St. Calixtus. Rome. CATACOMBS 17 ! 1 ^B^"' 1 " ^ ^ '\i« Fig. 11.— The Good Shepherd. Catacombs, Home. little that remains of the ilejDarted (Fig. 10), that here is where our beautiful religion was I^ept alive; that here those early Christians told the story of our Blessed Lord, and sang the liymns that He loved; that here, too, they broke the bread and drank the wine in com- memoration of His death, as He had commanded. They soon began to feel tlie need of some visiljle sign to make the Savior more real to them, so they put on the walls of their new home pictures to illus- trate the life and work of the Lord on earth. How could the\' re]5resent this new religion except with the same methods thej^ had used before accepting the new life? It was natural that the Christian artist should use pagan symbols to represent Christ and His apostles, and, consequently, the walls of the Catacombs are co^-ered with the crude attempts of the de^-oted disciples to show their love for the new blaster. To them the Savior was the CJood Shepherd (Fig. 11), so they used the pagan shepherd and his sheep, often with the sheep across his shoulders, to signify the Divine Shepherd. In these first pictures the Savior is always as beautiful in face and figure as a j^oung Apollo, while the disciples are portraj-ed dressed in the Roman toga of the period. In the fourth centuiy the Emperor Constantine ]oronounced the religion of Christ the state religion. The Christians, no longer fearing j^ersecution, came out of the Catacombs where they were left to worsliip in peace, and began Ijuilding chvn-ches for their own special worship. From this time the Christian religion was the principal motive in the art of painting. One of the usual themes for early church decorations was "The Redeemer Surrounded by Saints," as shown in a mosaic of the fourth centurv, in the Church of S. Pudenziana, 18 AXCIENT PAINTING Rome (Fig. 12). In the upper part of the mosaic are the evangehsts repre.sentecl symbohcally: the winged ox, above on the right, is St. Luke; the eagle below is St. John; on Fig. 12. — Mosaic. Redeemer Surrounded by Saints. Fourth Century. S. Pudenziana, Rome. the left the winged lion is St. ^lark; and the winged cherub below is St. Matthew. Now, for the first time, appears the halo or niml;>us, as a flG,t pan. back of the head of the Lord. Fig. 1.3. — M^>^aic. Clinst as the Good Shepherd. Ravenna. Later the apostles, saints, and angels are (.listinguished in the same manner. As the ]inwer nf Constantine increased, he conquered B\'zantiuiii in .\.ii. 32S ami made Constantinople the cajiital of RAVENNA 19 the Eastern Roman Empire. This introduced into Rome the art of the East, with its gold bacliground and its jewel-Uke coloring. In a few of tlie mosaics of the fifth centurj' we still find the youthful Christ with His beautiful face and figure. In the Mausoleum of Galla Placidia (the daughter of Theodosius the Great), in Ravenna, is a mosaic over the door, of " Christ as the Good Shepherd" (Fig. 1.3), in which the gold background indicates the growing influence of Byzantine art, but the Savior is surrounded with sheep, symbolic of His disciples, as was often found in the Catacombs. The balance in the composition, the grace of arrangement, and the "naturalness" of the sheep, show that the artist has still kept his original- ity; while he is picturing the Christian faith, he has not lost sight of the artistic. In the same set of mosaics is one of doves drinking from a vase, and another of stags at a spring; both of them are full of freedom and grace. At Rome, in the sacristy of the ancient Church of S. Maria in Trastevere, is a fragment of a very old mosaic of "Ducks and Fishermen" (Fig. 14). One can almost tell the variety to which the ducks belong so faithfully has the artist brought out special points, and yet there is no pettiness of details. Whoever designed that choice bit was a close .student of nature and loved to follow her teachings. The large mosaics in the Church of San Vitale, Ra\'enna, of the sixth century, representing the Emperor Justinian and his court and the Empress Theodora and her court (Fig. 1.5), are among the best examples of the strong influence of Byzantine art in Italy. The Church still loved beautiful decorations and eagerly adopted the brilliant high lights, the sparkling gold embossing, and the elaborate ornamentation brought from the East. The emperor and empress are surrounded by their courts — spiritual and temporal dignitaries, and bodyguards, h'lG. 14. — Mosaic. Ducks and Fishermen. S. Maria in Trastevere. Kome. 20 AXCIEXT PAIXTIXG all taking part in some religious procession. They are all dressed in magnificent stuffs of gorgeous coloring, and the jeweled crowns on the heads of these two monarchs are resplen- tlent with precious stones of rare -s-alue. There grew up in these early centuries a belief that the Christian religion demanded that the human body must be humiliated and that no beauty of face or form could bring spiritual glorjr. As time went on this belief became the ruling passion of the Church, and, as she assumed control of the Fic 15. — Mosaic. Empress Theodora and Her Court. Sixth Century. San Vitale. Ravenna. artists, she dictated to them, not only the subject to be used in church decoration, but the manner of treating the subject. Tlie religious pictures soon lost the beauty of form that ap- ]>ealed to the eye, and assumed a distinct stamp that fiecame cliaracteristic of Christian art. The face of the individual was elongated and given an expression of melancholy, the dress hung in stiff, hard folds, and the figure became awkward in the extreme. The pictures of our Lord were now mostly modeled after the words of Isaiah — " He hath no form nor comeliness: and when we shall see Him, there is no beauty that we should desire Him.'' There were manv and diverse infiuences at work on the RAVENNA 21 Italian artist during these early centuries. The classic spirit of the Greek, as shown at Pompeii, the love of the sensuous of the Romans, the rich oriental coloring of the far East, and the restrictions of the Cliurch, were all making their demands. Out of all this grew an art very mixed in character and inferior in cjuality. Although the Christian was free to express his belief as he wished, yet he followed many of the traditions of the Catacombs. The decora- tions of the churches were in mosaics and frescos; the subjects were taken from the J:iible and the li\'es of the saints. There was no improvement in the character of the work or the arrangement of the composition. Human figures were little more than space- hlling, conventional designs. In a mosaic of the sixth century at Ra- venna, the artist has had the independence to step out of the "rule and line" in the figui-e of "St. Agnes" (Fig. 16), from the "Ten Virgins," and assert himself in giving a touch of individuality and humanity to the face and form of the Roman virgin. Possibly the beautiful life of the saint may have touched a sympathetic chord in his heart and aroused the latent instinct of the true artist. Next to the apostles the image of St. Agnes is the earliest one represented in art. She suffered martyrdom a.d. 303. She is usually represented with a Iamb by her side, symbolic of her modesty, purity, and innocence. Were it not for the perfect sincerity of the artist in picturing the little lamb in this mosaic, one would be tempted to smile at his ignorance in making him so dog-like in the way he lifts his head and looks at his mistress. Fig. 16. — Mosaic. St. Agnes (detail from Ten Virgins). St. Ap- ollinare Ntiovo, Ra- venna. ITALIAN PAINTING .'1,;. 19.— Giotto. Dante. Hargello, Florence.— Sff jiofff 29. CHAPTER III CIMABUE — DUf'CIO — GIOTTO ART declined more and more until, in the eighth century, the Iconoclasts (image breakers) began their crusade with greater fierceness than e\'er. This lasted for a century and more. The artist had been crippled by the earlier attempts to crush out S3'mbolism. and all beauty of form, but now they \'\ere crushed completely. Tlie few works that remained after this far-reaching vandalism were covered with whitewash and forgotten. Life became a dreary waste, hope was gone, the end of the world had come. The only thought at the last was to prepare for that end. A.D. 1000 came and passed and the world still stood. There now began to be a slight awakening of the art instinct, but the Church fathers tightened their hold. They said that decorations might be used in the new churches, Ijut the artist must return to the traditions of the past and nothing new could be added. The mosaics in St. ^lark, ^''enice, were begun at the l^eginning of the ele"\-enth centur}-, and were a return to the early Byzantine type, but they do not equal them in excellence. The Church grew more and more powerful. IMonastic orders were springing into life. Monasteries were being built, and each order wished its new home to be decorated with scenes illustrating the life of its patron saint and tlie ^•irtues the order specially represented. Fresco painting again came into vogue. All this was of a very slow growth, and all through the Dark Ages not an artist has left his name; the Church simply swallowed all individuality. Even after the spell was broken and a new life entered into this old world of ours, it took two hundred years before any artist was strong enough to thro^v off the traditions of the past, and then two men came to the front at nearly the same time, Cimabue (1240?-!. 302?) of 25 2G ITALIAN PAIMIXG Florence, and Duccio (1260?-?) of Siena. These men were l)orn about the middle of the thirteenth century, and each started a school of great importance. Cimabue is usuallj' spoken of as the father of Italian paint- ing. If he was not the father he at least had the temerity to assert himself and show some independence of spirit. The order laid down by the Council of Nicea, a.d. 787, about sa- ci-ed pictures, that "It is not the invention of the painter which creates the picture, but an inviolable law, a tradition of the Church. It is not the painters, but the holy fathers, who have to in- vent and dictate. To them manifestly belongs the composition, to the painter only the execu- tion," was still in force. Only a man of unusual self-assurance would have dared to vary a sacred composition. Cimabue was not a religious man, and, if the stoiies aljout him are true, he did not always live an exemplary life, yet he has left to the world a "^ladonna and Child" (Fig. 17) now in the Church of Santa ^Maria Novella, Florence, that is full of spirituality, and also begins to show a little of the spirit of humanity. It is Byzantine in style of composition, and por- tra>-s the traditions of the Church, but has the individuality of the painter in it. There is the conventional long, melancholy face of the Church, the B)-zantine ty]5e in the ill-proportioned figure, the slim, elongated hand, and the Eastern eve, raised at Fii:. 17. — Cimabue. Madonna ami Chiltl. Santa Maria Novella, Florence. CIMABUE— DUCCIO 27 the outer corner — with thin contracted eyeUds, through which the e3'e is seen as through a slit — and the well-arched eyebrows. The artist, however, has put a little human life into the figure ])}' ch'opping the head on one side, and loosening the folds of her robe; there is also a retiring, thoughtful expression to the face of the .Madonna. The composition is on wood and painted ill tempera. The surface of the panel was first covered with a thin layer of plaster of Paris. The coloring of the painting must have been beautiful and rich when it left tlie artist's brush, for e^'en now it is rich and full; the detail work is ex- ciuisitel)' done. This painting of Cimabue's — the"^[adonna and Child" — was received with great enthusiasm by the Florentines. A gala day was appointed for its removal from the artist's studio to the church, with a procession as one of the main features. The churchman and citizen took part alike in this magnificent display, and at the head of the procession was carried the sacred picture. A similar celebration was one of the annual church functions for man)^ years. The best time of day to see this painting as it now hangs in the little chapel to the right of the high altar in the Santa i\Iaria Novella is in the afternoon, when the setting sun throws its long raj^s on it so tliat the full Ijeaut}' of the colors is brought out. Cimabue is sometimes spoken of as the ilichael Angelo of early painting. While Cimabue was infusing a new spirit into the art of Florence, Duccio was awakening the people of Siena for better things. It was impossible to throw off the deadening influence of the past entirely, but this original genius could use the methods laid down by tradition and still infuse his own spirit into them. The expression on the face of the Baby Jesus as seen in the " ^Madonna and Child" (Fig. 18), in the National Gallery, London, is much more child-like and shows real babj'-love in the caress against the cheek of the Virgin. Nothing since the Dark Ages has been so expressive of the new life stirring in the minds of the artists as that baby face. That Duccio was a cai-eful student of the anatomy of the body is seen in the detail work on the hand of the Madonna. Look at the modeling of that hand and notice how delicatelv he has indicated the 28 ITALIAN PAIXTIXG nails on the fingers. It hardly seems possible that the artist who could paint one part of the body so well could have made a face so woodeny and so lacking in everything that n'ould indicate a human model. One wonders whether it was pure ignorance that caused such discrepancy or whether he was Fig. is. — Uuccio. Ma'lunna and Chilil. Xatiitnal Gallery, London. ]:)ound down to a particular type and could only show his real genius in special details. A man of genius and originality he certainly was, or he could never have so stepped out of the con- ventional as he has in that Ijaby face and that refined hand. While Duccio adhered to the gold background for his skies and glorias, his colors are pure, clear, and biiglit. If he had had a famrius pupil to keep his memory green, as Cimalnie had, lie CIMABUE— GIOTTO 29 would probably have made a greater stir in the art world, for he possessed more of the true artist instinct than his Florentine rival. The pupils of these two artists were inspired to greater things by the teachings of their masters. Ciniabue was a man of independent fortune and is reported to have been anxious to help struggling young artists to better things. Whether it is true or not that he found Giotto tending his sheejD and drawing on a flat stone to pass the time, certain it is that this aspiring j'oung artist was a pupil in Cimabue's studio. At first a pupil, he very soon outstripped his master, so that teacher and pupil could have easih^ exchanged places. Ambrogiotto Bordon, or Giotto, as he is more commonly known, was born about a.d. 1266 — some authorities say as late as 1276 — of poor parents near Florence. Although he studied in Cimabue's studio, yet he was a born artist. He was born to 1)6 great, and no amount of restrictions could have crushed such a genius. He was a man for all time and all places. His talents were many and varied — an artist, an architect, a sculptor, and if not a writer he at least was an intimate friend of one — Dante. Surely no one knew better the checkered life of that marvelous poet than did Giotto, or could have given us a clearer insight into that life with his brush than he did. The walls of the chapel in the Bargello, in Florence, were covered with frescos by Giotto between 1300 and 1302. Shortly after his time the beautiful chapel was made into two stories by a dividing ceiling and floor, and the walls were wliitewashed. The upper part was used as a prison. For several hundred years the.se frescos were hidden, but in 1841, through the efforts of an English painter and one of our own countrymen, the false floor was remo\'ed and the wall scraped, thus bringing them to view again. Giotto had introduced a number of portraits into the "Paradise" on the south wall, among them the well-known portrait of "Dante" (Fig. 19 — see p. 24). It is thought that Giotto painted the poet from life, but possiljly it is a copy of an earlier one painted by the master; at any rate it corresponds to the mask that has been used for Dante by all artists for ages. When the portrait was uncovered the 30 ITALIAN PAIXTING Florentines were most enthusiastic, and crowded the Bargello for days, crying, "Here he is, our poet!" His position in the fresco, beside Charles of \'alois, who leads the procession, shows that it must have been painted when he was one of the Priors of the Repuljlic, when about thirty-five years old. The question may well be asked. Where did Giotto learn the art of portraiture? -Minerva-like, he sprang without inheritance or training fully equipped into the ranks of portrait painters. For the first time men's characters were portrayed in their faces and atti- tudes. Giotto adhered to the Byzantine type, but he showed marvelous ingenuity in arrangement and variety of subjects. It was his delight to take a story, as that of Joachim and Anna in the life of the ^'irgin at Padua, or the life of some saint, as that of St. Francis, and tell it vividly with his brush. His ideas were so clear and his hand so skilled that all who run may read what he has to say. He does something more than tell a story in his series of pictures illustrating incidents in a life history; he makes us feel the truth and sincerity of the actors in the scene. Is it possible in the picture of " St. Francis Bringing Water from the Rocks" (Fig. 20), in the Upper Church of Assisi, not to feel the simple faith of the sainted man as he kneels in prayer and the physical joy of the thirsty one as he drinks his fill from the miraculous fountain? How well, too, he understands the little donkey as he pictures him with one ear thrown back and one leg lifted, patiently waiting for his turn to drink. Giotto certainly went to nature for inspiration when he painted that donkey's head, for only an artist who knew the little beast could have done it so well. It is true that the trees are not much more than "feather dusters" turned upside down, but the attempt at perspective in their arrangement is far more successful than any of his ]3redecessors. His color is brilliant and well handled and he has used considerable skill in filling a given space. To no saint in the calendar of the Church does our heart go out in greater love than to St. Francis of Assisi. He is loved not only by his fellow man but by the beasts of the field and the fowls of the air. With what nai\-ete Ciiotto portrays GIOTTO 31 "The Sermon." (Fig. 21) St. Francis is preaching to ".My Sisters the Birds." One can ahnost hear him saying that quaint httle sermon, "Ye are greatly beholden unto God your Creator, and always and every place it is your duty to praise Him. . . . Ye are bounden to Him for the element of the air which He has deputed you for e\'erm(jre. You sow not, neither do you reap. Fig. 20. — Giotto. Miracle of St. Francis. Upper Church. Assisi, Italy. God feeds you and gives you the streams and fountains for your thirst. He gives you mountains and valleys for your refuge, tall trees wherein to make your nests, and insomuch as you neither spin nor reap, God clothes you and your children; hence ye should love your Creator greatly, and therefore beware, my sisters, of the sin of ingratitude, and ever strive to praise God." Look at the little fellows "open tlieir lieaks and stretch fortli their necks and spread their wings." It is 32 ITALIAN PAIXTIXG said that after "The Sermon" St. Francis made the sign of the cross and sent the birds forth into the world, north, south, east, and west, thus sending the stor}' of the cross in symbol through- out the world. The Franciscans, like the birds, carried nothing with them as they went about teaching the love of the Savior. The vows of Chastity, Obe- dience, and Poverty were the special virtues of the order, the chief of which was Povert}'. Giotto's fame as an artist was very great and brought him many commissions from both the Church and State. A story is told that the pope wished artists from all over Italy to come to Rome and decorate a new church that had just been finished. He sent a committee to see the different artists and collect specimens of their work. AMien Giotto was solicited, he at first refused to send anything, but finalh' took up his pencil and with one sweep of his hand drew a round "0" and handed it to the committee. The men were unwilling to take so meager a drawing, but Giotto said, "That is too much," and refused to do more. The round "0" was highly appreciated by the pope, and since then the saying goes, "Round as the '0' of Giotto." In studying the works of Giotto, one is more and more convinced that to ap]>reciate and understand the pictures of the earl}' artists one must he familiar with the stories of the Bible, the Apocrypha, the legends of the Church, the lives of the saints, and mythology. Fig. 21. — Giotto. St. Francis Preachiog to the Birds. Upper Church, Assisi. CHAPTER IV TADDIO CiADDI ORCAGNA GENTILE DA FABRIANO — FRA ANGELICO G1I0TT0 made such radical clian^es in tlie art of his time r that none of his immediate pupils ever advanceil beyond him. The pupil who worked with him and seemed to ha^•e some of the spirit of the master was Taddio Gaddi (1300?- FiG. 22, — Taddio Gaddi. Religion anil PhilotfO|>h,\'. Santa .Maria Novella, Florence. 1366?). He had less of the dramatic than Giotto, but he was a man full of religious feeling and worked for the uplifting of his fellow men. In his "Religion and Philosophy" (Fig. 22), in the Spanish chapel of the Santa ?*Iaria Novella, Florence, he has put into the hands of St. Thomas AciUinas, the figure 33 34 ITALIAN PAINTING ill the center of the upper row, the Book of Wisdom. In it is written: "1 ^Nilled, and Sense was given me, I prayed, and the Spirit of Wisdom came to me. And I set her before, (preferred her to,) kingdoms and thrones." This sentence alone would describe Taddio's aim in art. The frescos in this chapel are in a fair state of preservation, and, fortunately, the restorer has not done so much damage as is usually the case. Tacldio did not improve upon the ^_ : A ■I : - ■-;:-" C^-£^%J0B^ h 1 ■ ■'■*.'f', ^gwS^,.v'^>^-Affl*a34l« ¥ i _ ''^^'';mmmw'fr'^jvm j Wm.A W'^ ^hR^k ' ' J^^^^^hB R ' W^i ^^^^^^^^M^^^^^B M Iw^^^KM^^S^^m f^ wSk^ mts M^4'^ . .: ,<| \ L^W^ mMk Fl<;. 2:5. — Taildio Gaddi. The Meeting of Joachim and Anna. Santa Croce, Florence. methods of Cdotto, hut his color was a little more vivid and fresh. He was quick to see the quality of decoration in his subject and showed great skill in arranging his figures in a ]deasing manner. The power of thought put into the grand allegorical composition of " Philosophy " stamps Taddio as a student of the very highest order. The syml.)olic representa- tion of the seven virtues in life as he has gi\'en them in the upper part of the fi-esco is significant of his keen insight into the governing principles of perfect manhood. Under these are the great prophets and apostles arranged on each side of St. Thomas Aquinas, and below these, each in a canopied seat, TADDK) GADDI^-ORCAGXA 35 are the spiritual and natural sciences, each with "the figure of its Captain-teacher tf) the world" at its feet. Kuskin calls attention particularl}- to the figure of Music, the fourth one on the right. Taddio, like his master, d c 1 i g h t c d in t oiling t h.e "oltl, old story," whether it was taken from the can- onical books or fi'om the Apocrypha. "The fleeting of .loachim and Anna" (Fig. 23), in the liaroncelli Chapel, Santa Croce, Flor- ence, is one of a series of ]5ic- tures in the life of the Mrgin. The sense of motion gi^en to the man with the sheep thrown over his shoulders is particularly well rejire- sented. It is just possible that Taddio has given us his own portrait in that man; at least the \\hole face and figure are those of some one well known to him. The architectural back- ground as he has given it in this painting is am])le proof that he was capable of designing the Ponte ^>cchia over the river Arno even if there is a question about his ha^-ing done so. No one was more fitted to finish his master's campanile, the "Lily of Florence," as it was called, than was Taddio Gaddi. Two generations passed before there was a single artist with sufficient individuality to advance the art of painting beyond Giotto; then came Andrea Orcagna (1329?-1376?). This artist was broad enough to take advantage of all that had gone before him and give out an art that was more mature i** -^ * HMj Iff Fig. 24. ^Orcagna. Last Judgment (detail Santa Maria Novella, Florence. 30 ITALIAN PAIXTIXG ill the perceptions of the Ijeauty of life. He reall}' changed the cliaracter of painting, and, while he did not rival Giotto in dramatic conception, he did far excel any artist of his time in the delicate, spiritual expression on many of the faces in his compositions. Although the only fairly intact painting of his — the altar piece in Santa iNIaria Novella — has been through the hands of the restorer, yet the very effective grouping and great variety of expressions in the faces and figures have given the composition an artistic value that is most interesting. The grace and beauty of some of the j^oung women, especially those in the group on the right (Fig. 24), are charming. One feels that Andrea must have had an unusuall}^ attractive model or at least one who had awakened in him an appreciation of true womanly beaut}'. Could any figure have more modest grace than the one on the left with the magnificent braid of golden hair bound around the shapely head and the hands folded so demurely? There is a gradual advance in the study of nature among the artists of Italy, but the old Byzantine influence is still felt. It is rarely that a radical change is made, where old methods are thrown off and • new ones adopted. When Gentile da Fabriano (1360?-1440?) began his art career a new influence had come into Italy from the North, in the works of the Flemish \'an Eyck brothers. The jewel-like cjuality of their art at- tracted Gentile; he loved the luster of silk and rich ornament. -Michael Angelo says of him, "His touch was like his name" — Gentile meaning delicate and graceful. Roger van der Wey- den, after seeing his frescos, declared that Gentile was the greatest man in Italy. One of the most magnificent of his compositions is in the Academy of Florence. It is the "Adora- tion of the ^lagi" (Fig. 25). The painting as a whole is one of the most comprehensive pictures of that time. There is real perspective in the landscape, true action in the train of worship- ers as they wind down the mountain, and considerable life in the animals in the foreground. The decorative magnificence of the "kinRs" is glorious. Nowhere is there such luxuriance in stuffs and jewel ornamentation. Neither does Gentile lack in relifiious feeling: the attitu-^l 4 ■ Wm W It * ^'SJ^ ; mm^M - iir 1 w\ h: '■-^ff . If Fig. 30.^ilasaccio. St. Peter P.aptizing. S. Maria del Carmine, Florence, 44 ITALIAX PAIXTIXG has very forcefull}- told the story of the painter's Ufe, emphasiz- ing the misfit of the monk's cowl and gown. Fra Filippo loved a beautiful face for its beauty alone and never hesitated to take a pretty girl as a model for his iladonnas; there was nothing vulgar, however, about his women with their earthly type of beauty, but rather a charming sweetness that harmon- ized with the sacredness of his subjects. In the "Coronation of the Virgin" (Fig. 31), in the Acad- emy, Florence, he has given such an exquisite quality to his Fig. 31. — Fra Filiijpo Lip[ii. Coronation of the Virgin. Academy, Florence. color scheme of glowing flesh, golden hair, and delicate tints in drapery that it has enveloped the picture with a loveliness rarely equaled. In the right-hand corner of the painting the artist has painted his own portrait as an old man in the hal)it of his order. In front of him is an angel with a scroll, on which are the words "Is perfecit opus." When looking at Fra Filippo's pictures, one often wonders whether all the women and children of Florence had short necks. Or was it the beauty charm of Lucrezia Buti? The story of the romance of the artist's life is that when he was riLiPPiNO Lirpi 45 employed by the nuns of .St. Margaret to paint the portrait of this beautiful novice, Lucrezia Buti, he fell in love with her, and some authorities say that they were both released from their vows by the pope and were afterward mari-ied. While there is much confusion of facts about the marriage of Fra Filippo, it is fairly certain that Filippino Lij^pi (1457?-1504) was his son, and tliat he in- herited his father's artistic temperament. He was a weaker artist than his father, with, however, a charm and tenderness that made a place for him among the prominent painters of his time. Over fifty years after jNfasaccio had given up work in the Brancacci Chapel of Santa Carmine, Filippino was appointed to finish the work Ijegun by the older master. In the fresco of "Sts. Peter and Paul before Nero," he has given several portraits of the artists of Florence, among them his own pic- ture (Fig. 32). The dignity of character stamped on that face marks him as a man com- petent to appreciate the high ideals of Masaccio even if his own work did not reach the level of the greater master. In grasp- ing a subject as a whole he fell short of the mark, but in por- traying individuals he showed an understanding of personal traits that only a student of human nature could know. In looking at his face one is reminded of those old portraits found at Fayoum, painted fifteen hundred j-ears l^efore his day. Another one of the frescos in the Brancacci Chapel painted Ijy ]\Iasaccio and Filippino is "The Resurrection of a Child" Fig. 32. — Filippino Lippi. Portrait of Artist S. Maria del Carmine, Florence. 40 ITALIAX PAIXTIXG (Fig. 33, detail). Tiie scene i.s founded on the story in the Acts, of St. Paul restoring to life the youth Eutychus, who fell from the window while the apostle was preaching at Troas, with details taken from the legends of Simon Magus, the magician, who is said to have challenged Sts. Peter and Paul to raise the A'outli to life. The figure at the left of the picture with the outstretched hands and a cap on his head is said to be the poet Luigi Pulci, who died in H86. The Roman Empe- lor Theophilus sits on the throne at the left. Filip- ])ino finished these frescos between the years 1484 and 1490. This chapel throughout the fifteenth centur}' was of inestimable value to those artists \\'hose works stand for the l^erfect fruit of the painter — the ideal picture — Leon- ardo daMnci, Raphael, and ?ilichael Angelo. It is said that Raphael alone copied them seven times. Benozzo Gozzoli (1420? -1497?) is known to us principally through his frescos in a chapel in the Riccardo Palace, Florence. AVhile the subject of the fresco is "The Procession of the ^lagi to the Stable of Bethlehem," the people in the procession are without doubt, portraits of the leading citizens of Florence. Every figure seem.s to say, "I am being drawn by Benozzo for his great picture of the ;\Iagi." AVhen the fresco was made there was probably no window in the chapel, and possibly the work was done l^efore the ceiling was put on, or it was lighted artificially. The original door in the chapel is simply a division in the picture — one horse has its forelegs and shoulder on one side and the remainder of the l)od\' on the other side of the Fig. 33. — Masaccio and Filippino Lippi. De- tail from The Resurrection of a Child. S. -Maria s and great truth in his drawing, but the lack of true grace and perfect flexibility shows that he did not draw direct from nature. He was a master in nearly all the technical parts of a picture, and no one except ^lichael Angelo ever went beyond him in the purely intellectual conception of a composition. There is no exaggeiation in his lepresentation of religious subjects; even VENETIAN PAINTIN<_; 51 in the most tragic scenes lie lias great power in rendering the pathos of sacred emotion. While we are in the north of Ital}' \\'C will see what is being clone in Venice, cpieen cit}^ of the ArJriatic. The uni(|uc situa- tion of this beautiful city has given her a character peculiarly her own. Her political, social, intellectual, and religious life is entirely different from her sister cities. She has always held herself proudly independent of an undue interference by the pope. Her religion is Roman Catholic, l:>ut she is never so devoted to the Church that it ever interferes with her state rights; in fact her religion is more of a state ceremonial than a church function. No fear of excommunication ever made her bow her proud head in .submission. Her isolated position, surrounded as she was by the sea on all sides, protected her from outside enemies; her government was such that internal trouble was almost unknown when the rest of Italy was being torn to pieces with strife from within and without. From the veiy early history of "\'enice her greatest ambition was worldly wealth; she loved magnificent display and gorgeous adorning. Brilliant color seems to have been her birthright. Her commerce with the far East, even before Constantinople and B}-zantium, has always given her the rich material of the orient that is so resplendent with color, and this with her own glorious sky, ever '\-arying from the intense blue of the day, to the golden yellow of the morning and rainbow tints of the evening, has fostered her natural loA-e of color. The artist of this island city was allowed much freedom in using his own taste in selecting colors and magnificent stuffs for his religious subjects. The rich gold backgrounds of the Byzantine, and the vivid colored mosaics of marble and glass of the cathedral and doge's palace were ever before his eyes, urging him on to make paintings that would harmonize with such brilliant surroundings. The first artists who stand out with great distinctness as the real founders of the ^'enetian School of Painting, are the Bellinis — father and two sons. There were other men who were painting for her who formed a sort of connecting link 52 ITALIAN PAINTING with the other cdties of Italy, and whose pictures are seen in the museums and other buildings of Venice. These artists lived in ilurano and other islands near Venice and formed a distinct school for a time, l^ut finally it was identified with the Venetian school. The principal artists of this school were the Vivarinis, who flourished during the fifteenth century; with them the school really ended. There is much confusion as to the individual history of these men, but their record as pro- gressive artists is well authen- ticated. They painted many altar-pieces, annunciations, and angels — the latter are nearly as well known as those of Bel- lini and Carpaccio. The last of the Vivarini family was Luigi Vivarini (1461-1503). There is much in his compositions that shows he was not altogether free from the influence of the Bel- linis. The arrangement of the "Madonna, Child, and Saints" (Fig. 36), Berhn Gallery, is very similar to the Venetian's. The sweetness and tenderness in the face of the Madonna is most human, and the easy nat- uralness of the two saints at the right and left of the angels re- lieves the picture of much of the stiffness of arrangement. The angels at the foot of the throne are sturdy little fellows wholly engrossed in the task of music-making. Note how this artist has brought out the decorative principle in the ornamental work on the throne and archway. How carefully the detail work has been done! The immediate follower of the Mvarinis was Carlo Crivelli ('1430?-1493?), a man of considerable force, ^^'e see in his paintings the beautiful transparent color that is a marked characteristic of all these men. Crivelli was the same age as Mantegna, and liad a little of the tragic power of that man. Fig. .36. — Vivarini, Luigi. Madonna, Child and Saints. Berrin Gallery. CRIVELLI— BELLINI 53 He probably studied under the same master — Squarcione. In the"iIadonna Enthroned" (Fig. 37), in the National Gallery, London, the architecture of the throne indicates the influence of his studies at Padua. The exquisite coloring of the jeweled crown, neck ornament, and edge of the robe of the jMadonna is as brilliant as enamel worlc. The folds of the robe are stiff and hard, but there is the grace of babyhood in the Baby Jesus as he bends over the ill-shapen hand of the :Motlier. The chubby little fingers and fat dimpled legs of the Christ Child impart some warmth of feeling to the otherwise fretful and disdainful-looking Jlother. Nothing could be more beautiful, however, than the magnificent stuff of the robe of the Madonna, with its elaborately brocaded fig- ures and rich coloring. Crivelli could not portray the spiritual beauty of Fra Angelico or the material beauty of Fra Filippo Lippi, but he had a distinct person- alit}' that stamped itself on his pictures and made them most interesting in spite of the lack of beauty in his women. We now turn to Giovanni Bellini (142S?-1516), the greatest of his family, who was the first artist to found an individual school of painting in Venice. In Bellini were coml^ined just the necessary qualities tliat a leader should possess. From the beginning of his art career to the verv end of his long life his ^SS^^^tD^^iW^B^r'^ ^K- ^v^^^^^B^ui |y^ Vv>' \|„^"ij|: m^'y^ ^%.\: %'^^ :0 -''3^^! 3 Fig. 37. — Crivelli. Madonna and Child. National Gallery, London. 64 ITALIAN PAIXTIXG artistic growth was steadily progressive. He was keen to take advantage of all that the artists of the world had done in the development of painting before his day and, by his ow-n original- ity, he advanced the art to a degree of perfection never reached before. That he was the greatest artist of the fifteenth century can hardly be questioned. With him began that marvelous symphony of color which, being perfected by Titian, gave to Venice the palm as undisputed Mistress of Color. While there is a certain conventionality of arrangement in Bellini's altar-pieces, the Madonna usually being seated on a Fig. 38. — Giovanni Bellini. Madonna and Child and Twrj Saints, Academy, ^'enice. throne surrounded by saints, with angels IdcIow playing on musical instruments, they never lack in the distinctive features that individualize each composition without destroying the type. Even when he varies in composing his ^Madonna groups the type remains. In the Academy at ^'enice is his "^Madonna of St. George and St. Paul" (Fig. 38),w-here all accessories are omitted, yet there is no mistaking it as one of Bellini's paintings. He has so individualized the ^lother of .Jesus that her face tvpifies the mother who has had revealed to her the great sorrow that will overshadow her later years. She is not morbidly sad, but sad as one who accepts the will of God, utter- ing no com]ilaint. That Bellini was not morliid himself is BELLINI— t'ARPACCKJ 55 ;il;)uinl;intly proved in his porti-ayal of little children. Tlie Christ Child is a fat, chubl)V little fellow with bab.v flesh as warm and soft as any bab^-'s in Venice. He has not given him the child-like freedom of pose that he has the child musicians, so often seated at the foot of the throne, for that would not have harmonized with the sad-faced ^lothei'. Again we think of the face of that .Mother and realize how well Bellini combined the beaut_y of girlhood with the fuller charm that comes when grief has touched the soul and deepened the life. Nothing in portraiture "\^'as exer finer than Bellini's "Por- trait of Doge Loredano" (Fig. 39), in the National Gallery, London. Standing before that jjortrait we are con^dnced that only a man of power and great knowledge of men coiUd liaA'e made such a painting. Here we have the \"enetian magnificence of color and stuffs in the cape of the doge; the warm glow of the flesh tints that give life to the almost colorless face; the deep-set eye, clear and intelligent; the firm mouth and sensitive nose, all of which show the keen perceptions of the j^ainter. Certainly Bellini was a man of strength and character, ^^"hen Diirer was in ^'enice he was entertained at the house of the old artist, who ^A'as then over seventy, and in his notes speaks of the hospitality and honest integrity of his entertainer; the latter statement could not he made of all great men of \'enice at that time. Diirer was warned of the jealousy of the artists and advised to beware of their hospitahty. Carpaccio was the immediate follower of Bellini, and shows in his work some of the influence of his master and contempo- rary. The legend was more attractive to him than i-eligious subjects, although he painted several altar-pieces. He loved to tell a story, and the life of St. Ursula gave him wide scope for his imagination. He painted nine large pictures of this favorite legend and in them gave a very accurate account of Italian life of the fifteenth century; so accurate that he has become an authority for the customs and costumes of daily life through these paintings. In the picture of "St. Ursula and Her Father" (Fig. 40), the style of dress of both father and daughter is a glimpse of the home costume in vogue at the time. St. Ursula is relating her dream to her father and urging Fig. 39. — Giovanni iiellini. Uuge Loredano. National Gallery, London. CARPACCIO 57 him to let her carry out her pilgrimage. When Carpaccio was painting these legends in Italj', Hans Memlinc was making his 8t. Ursula "Reliquary" (Fig. 170) in Belgium. St. Ursula was the patroness of young girls, and of all women who devote themselves to the care and education of young women. Vittore Carpaccio was born about 1440 and died the early part of the next century. He was a man of earnest purpose, Fig. 40. — Carpaccio. St. Ursula and her Father. Academy, Venice. and in his paintings he gives a truthfulness and honest sinceiity that is very pleasing. At all times a thorough student, he gives proof in his "Presentation" (Fig. 41), Academy, Venice, that his knowledge was accurate and far reaching. He combined in this picture the Byzantine, the classic, and the modern technic: the magnificent oriental decoration; the strong relief in the modeling, of the Greek; and the perspective, atmosphere, and sunlight of the ^'enetian. Nothing could be finer than his manner of handling the rich brocade of St. Simeon's surplice and the heaA-y lace on the short robe. The gentle 58 ITALIAN PAINTIXG dignity of the Virgin and the sweet girhsh attitudes of the two attendants are very attractive. The baby is a human child, and the little musician at the foot of the throne (the one in the middle) is the most unconscious httle performer that one could Fig. 41. — Carpaccio. Presentation in the Temple. Academy, Venice. well imagine. The whole attitude of the tiny player is eloquent of earnest effort. This bit is a gem. In Cima da Comegliano (1460-1517) we have one of the direct followers of Bellini, and probably a pupil of his. Possibly he did not originate much in composition, yet he has left works that are expressive of great dignity and considerable personality. CIJIA— MESSINA 59 His perspective in "St. John and Four Saints" (Fig. 42), in Venice, is good and tlie arrangement of the composition is quite original. The detail work on the arches and the drawing of the old tree with its scraggly branches are realistic and effective. Vasari saj's that the use of oil in mixing pigments was first taken to Venice by Antonello da .Messina (1444?-] 493), who Fit;. 42. — t.'iina. St. John and Four Saints, A\'ent from Rome to Flanders, where he learned the secret from the Van Eycks. Critics to-day deny that he e-\-er Avent to Flanders, and also say that oil was used in Italy as a medium before the time of the ^'an Eycks. Messina shows the influence of the Flemish methods in his careful, painstaking mtmner of working. In the Louvre is a portrait of "An Unknown ^lan" (Fig. 43) which, in its perfect modeling and I'ich coloring, is a marvel. A portrait painter ^lessina certainly was, ;ind one whose influence was felt even in A'enice, the home of liis adop- 60 ITALIAN PAINTING tion — he was a native of Sicily. What could be finer than the carefully worked-out flesh tones of the face and neck of this unknown man! How the eyes glow with the fire of Fig. 43. — Messina. An Unknown Ma Lou\Te, Paris. thought, as only eyes can when the artist paints the character of his sitter! What a wealth of auburn hair, and how well the peculiar style of dressing is preserved without pettiness of detail! CHAPTER VII GHIRLANDAJO — BOTTICI-ILLI — VERROCCHIO — LORENZO DI CREDI TURNING again to Florence we find Ghirlandajo (1449- 1494) and Sandro Botticelli (1446-1510) producing their masterpieces. They were both invited to Rome by Sixtus IV. to assist in decorating the new chapel in the Vatican — the Sistine Chapel. Ruskin says, "Ghirlandajo was to the end of his life a mere goldsmith, with a gift of portraiture," but he was something more, for he was a careful draughtsman, handling drapery with simplicity and grace; a colorist of no mean merit, and the greatest fresco painter of the latter half of the fifteenth century. He acquired the name "garland- maker" from his working in a goldsmith's shop making jeweled garlands for the rich ladies of Florence. His real name was Domenico di Tommaso di Currado Bigordi — we are thankful that he made garlands for the ladies. Little is known of the artist's early life, but man}^ critics assert that he painted the series of frescos for the Vespucci family in the Church of Ognis- santi, Florence, before he was called to Rome b\^ the pope in 1475 and before he was twenty-six. These frescos were covered with whitewash in 1616 and were not brought to light again until 1898. His reputation as an artist must have been estab- lished l:)efore 1475 or he would not have been called to Rome on so important a mission. Ghirlandajo did not have that warmth tliat would make him much loved as a painter, l^ut he was strong, masterful, and forceful. One cannot look at the picture of "The Old i\[an and Little Boy" (Fig. 44), in the Louvre, without recognizing the power of the man. The portrait may be a little too realistic in giving the imperfections nature has put on the nose of the old man, but the face of the child redeems that realism in its 61 Fu;. 44. — Gliirlanilajo. Old Man and Bo>'. Louvre, Paris. GHIRLANDAJO 63 absolute unconsciousness of any mar on the face of his idol. The expression of love, admiration, and trust on the little face is simply perfect. One lingers long before this picture, fasci- nated by tlie e.xpression of kind benevolence on the old face and of adoration and perfect trust of his little companion. The vivid red of the cap on the golden curls is almost startling in its brilliancy antl yet perfectly satisfactory. Ghirlandajo was one of the strongest and most popular artists of his day. As a portrait painter lie stood at the head. Vasari says that while he was still apprenticed to the goldsmith he had "extraordinary facility in design by continual practice, and was so quick as well as clever, that he is said to ha\'e di'awn the likeness of all who passed I)}' liis worksliop, producing the most accurate resemblance." The people of Florence wanted their portraits and he stood ready with his brush to please them. His orders came in so thick and fast that it is said he engaged his Lirother David to take charge of the business part so that lie could devote himself to his patrons. There was very little, however, of the charm and tenderness in Ghirlandajo that his friend and contemporary, Botticelli, liad. Possibly Sandro Botticelli more nearly represented the art of the time of Lorenzo de' Jledici than any artist of tliat day. From the beginning of Lorenzo's reign in Florence until his death he was not only a liberal patron of Sandro's but a loyal friend, inviting him to meet the eminent scholars that he collected around him. If it is true, as Vasari says, that Sandro had not learned to read or write, he must haxe had an unusual charm of manner to have held his own in so learned a compan}-. That he redeemed himself by acquiring classical lore is evident in his many paintings of mytholog}-. As a student of nature he saw the flowers that bloomed by the roadside with all the accuracy of the botanist, but he painted them with the poetic charm of Wordsworth. Who can look at the wealth of blossoms in his "Spring"' (Fig. 45) without seeing them "fluttering and dancing in the breeze.'' A certain melancholy seems to pervade almost all of Botticelli's composition, but in this one only the spirit of joy and gladness is breathed forth. How vividlv Walt Whitman has described 64 ITALIAN PAINTING the three graces dancing at the left of the goddess Spring in his "Rolling Earth":— "Of the interminable sisters, Of the ceaseless cotillion of sisters, Of the centripetal and centrifugal, the elder and younger sisters, The beautiful sister we know dances on with the rest. With her ample back toward every beholder." Every figure in the picture is instinct with life, while the vivify- ing breeze stirs the tiniest leaf and flower. No artist has ever Fit;. 4.5. — Botticelli. Spring. Acatlemy. Florence. equaled Sandro in giving that subtle sense of motion that he has made such an integral part of all his pictures. A gentle zephyr, sometimes so soft that only a stray curl is lifted or the most delicate drapery fluttered, is as much a part of the general effect as the color or arrangement. He is called "the painter of tlie breeze." Ruskin says of Botticelli: "He was the only painter of Italy who understood the thoughts of the heathen and Christians equally, and could in a measure paint Ijoth Aphrodite and the Madonna." While he had little knowledge of the anatomv of BOTTICELLI 65 the human body, he was almost a perfect draughtsman. One critic says that he is one of the greatest masters of hne. He was one of the artists appointed by Pope Sixtus IV. to decorate the chapel in the Vatican called by his name — Sistine Chapel; and Lanzi says that Botticelli's work in the Sistine Chapel Fig. 46. — Botticelli. Coronation of the Virgin. Uffizi, Florence. surpasses his other work. Vasari speaks of his "Calumn}' of Apelles" as "as fine a production as possible." The spirit of melancholy that is so marked a feature in his Madonnas is very apparent in his "Coronation of the Mrgin" (Fig. 46), in the Uffizi, Florence. In this picture the three lovely angel children (said to be the ^fedici children) on the left, with their innocent, thoughtful faces, are just the contrast necessary to balance the sad face of the Holj^ Mother with the 06 ITALIAN PAIXTI.VG Divine Child. The beautiful bit of landscape in the background gi\'es a touch of i-eality that sheds a ray of hope over the ^\-hole scene. It was through Ruskin and the Pre-Raphaelite Brother- hood that Botticelli has become so well known in the last fifty j'ears. There was one man in Florence at this time who was shaking the old city to the very foundation, and whose preaching stirred the souls of all his hearers. The marvelous ijreacher, Ciirolamo Savonarola, was at the height of his fame ju.st as Botticelli was doing his best work. His influence on the artists of his time Avas varied and masterful; it is well to keep in mind this great preacher while studying Florentine art of the fifteenth century. In his cell in San Marco, Florence, is that famous portrait of him done bj' his beloved disciple, Fra Bar- tolommeo, who was his devoted follower to the tragic end. The name Verrocchio, which means "true eye," was a most appropriate one for Andrea di Alichele di Francesco Cioni (143.5-1488), as a surname. That he served a long apprentice- ship under the famous goldsmith, Verrocchio, is evident from his adopting his name. \'errocchio's reputation as a painter lests almost entirel}' on one painting — "The Baptism of Christ" — and even that had to be shared with his more famous pupil, Leonardo da Vinci. But his skill as a sculptor and designer placed him at the head of the profession of pla.stic art. No wonder that the father of Leonardo took his son to the workshop of Verrocchio, "then the most famous arti.st in Florence." Very little is known of the early life of this man, who not only produced masterpieces himself, iDut was capable of training other men to produce them, as is seen in Da Mnci, who received his entire art education from him. If he "painted for amusement rather than as a profession," as Lanzi says, he certainly loved the profession of art, as the number and per- fection of his works sliow. His "Baptism of Christ" (Fig. 47), in the Academy, Florence, was painted for the monks of San Sahi; when we have said that, almost everything of cer- tainty lias l)een said about its production. But the picture sjjeaks for itself as a whole and in every part. Vasari, who was e^•er readv with some fable or fairv tale about artists who.se \'ERKUCCH1U 67 i'Ci)Utati(.iM he wished to make or mar, says that the angel whose back is toward the spectator was done entirely by Leonardo, which piece of work discouraged the master from trying to paint. It is true that the angels are painted in oil, while the rest is in tem])era, either originally or by the restorer Fi(i. 47. — Verrocchii) Bai>tisni of Christ. Acaiieniy, Florence. — which pos.sil3ly makes them of later date — but the latest re.search into the life of Verrocchio and a most careful analysis of his work refute ^'asari's opinion, ^'ery beautiful, indeed, are both the angels in their attitude of wonder and awe as they wait to minister to the Christ. Strong and masterful is the drawing of the drapery around the loins of the Savior, whose body has been modeled after the most careful study of anatomy. Certain it is that this "Baptism" exerted a great influence 68 ITALIAN PAINTING among artists, for it has served as a model of that subject in the majority of the representations since. In the Uffizi, Florence, is that wonderful "Portrait of Verrocchio" (Fig. 48), left by his favorite pupil Lorenzo di Credi (14.50-1537). Truly this portrait is "a work of love,'' for only one who knew the life of this man through the eyes of love could have made anything so true to nature! Strong and true, energetic and warm-hearted, masterful and tender, are traits written in every line of the body and on e\'ery feature of the face. Lor- enzo di Credi was one of the followers of Savona- rola, and, obeying the or- ders of the great preacher, he burned all his pictures of classical subjects. ^lost of his remaining works are executed in oil on wood, and are usually small easel piieces of religious subjects. He was an artist with ver}- little imagina- tion but of great technical ability. His art was mechanical and without the inspiration that marked his illustrious co- workers. His works are found in all prominent galleries and are in an excellent state of preservation. Fig. 48. — Lorenzo di Credi. Portrait of Verrocchio. UfBzi. Florence. CHAPTER VIII FRANCESCA SIGNORELLI MELOZZO DI FORLI PERUGIN'O WHEN the statement is made that Piero della Francesca was born aljout 1415, at Borga San Sepolcro, a town in Tuscany; that he learned to paint in oil; that he made so exhaustive a study of perspective as to write a treatise upon it; that he was almost the first artist to paint the separate portrait; that he worked in many of the principal towns of Italy — Florence, Rome, etc.; that he went blind; and that he died in his native town in 1492, about all is said that is definitely known of his life. Of no class of people can it be more truly said that, by their works, ye shall know them, than of artists, and of no artist can this statement be made with greater truth than of Francesca. Covering, as he does, almost every subject in art, he reveals himself so fully that one sees "distinctly his soul and his truth." One of the best known of his paintings is "The Nativity" (Fig. 49), in the National Gallery, London, a picture very much damaged by the hands of the cleaner and restorer (?). His treatment of this subject is so entirely differ- ent from anything that had been done before his time, that at once we are convinced of his originality; of his determina- tion to ignore every precedent, and of his desire to be uncon- ventional and faithful to his own observations. The whole scene is most realistic, from the open shed with the magpie on the edge, to the cow and braying ass beneath; from the angels, who are simple peasant girls with no wings or halos to mark them as cele.stial beings, to the Hoi}' Babe with little arms stretched out in most child-like appeal. Even the Virgin is very sweet and human. The whole picture breathes forth a true religious sentiment, but a sentiment drawn direct from nature. This artist went to nature for his inspiration. 69 ro ITALIAN PAI.XTIXG Francesca had a scientific mind and learned the technical part of his art with exactness; he drew the form of a body from the anatomical standpoint and gave wonderful spirit and expression to different attitudes. He exerted great influence not only over his pupils but over his fellow craftsmen. The most noted pupil of this innovator was Luca Signorelli (1441- 1523), one of the great fresco painters of the fifteenth centur\-, wlio was honored with an invitation to Rome from Pope Sixtus Fli:. 49. — Ffancesca. Nativity. National Gallerj", Linnlon. IV. How great that honor was Vasari tells us when he says that "of all the methods of painting, the fresco upon the wall is the most masterly and the most beautiful; because, in it, the painter must do his work in one day, and at one stroke; whereas, in other circumstances, he may touch and retouch it as often as he pleases." Signorelli was a powerful painter and a master in portraying tlie nude. His frescos at Orvieto were an inspiration to ^lichacl Angelo. and tlicy will always hold first place as master- ful comj^ositions. Tliere was hardly a j^osition possible for rilGNORELLl 71 the human l:)ody to assunie, that he was not equal to portraying. He hesitated at nothing in foreshortening or perspective. As a draughtsman he had few equals. The most comprehensive example of his power in painting the human figure is in his "Resurrection" (Fig. 50), in the Duomo, Orvieto. The trumpet call of the angels has awakened Fii;. .50. — Signorelli. Resurrection. Cathedral of Orvieto, lral>-. the dead, and brought tJiem forth from their graves. The artist has represented the resurrected company in a most realistic manner: some of the bodies are just pulling themselves out of the grave, and in all stages of progress; others have already forgotten the bondage of death and are rejoicing with their new-found companion or hailing with delight the heavenly vision abo^-e. Around tlie corner at the right come trooping a company of skeletons giinning over the prospect of being once more clothed and made alive again. There is a gro- 72 ITALIAX PAIXTIXG tesqueness in the whole idea that amuses, yet one cannot help but admire the ingenuity of the man who conceives so novel a scene. Signorelli's colors are rather harsh and disagreeable, and there is a lack of human sympathy in his work that almost repels us, and yet we are bound to admire him for his great strength. Another pupil of Francesca's was Alelozzo di Forli (1438-1494), who is hardly mentioned in the history of art, because there is so little left of his work; yet his angels are almost as popular as those of Fra Angelico. His frescos origi- nally decorated the old Church of San Apostoli, Rome, but all that was left of these decorations was removed to the Quirinal and to the Sacrist)' of St. Peter's, Rome. In the latter are the angels with the musical instruments (Fig. 51). If adding wings to noble, refined girlish forms will make angels of girls, then these beautiful beings of ^lelozzo's are angels. There is nothing common about them, yet they are not sentimentally angelic. This one with her "brown blunt wings, like an owl, just as if painted from nature," is very human and particularly attractive in that attitude of pleased expectancy. Originally this angel was one of a full choir that were a part of the " Ascen- sion of Christ." The marvelous foreshortening of this beautiful being jilaced in the clouds and yet liending so gracefully and Fig, 51. — Melozzo di Forli. Flaying Angel. Sacristy of St. Peter's, Rome. PEKC(1IX(J 73 natui'iilly toward the earth, is in itseh' enough to raise Melozz(] to a place beside the greatest artist of his days. That liis appointment as painter to the pope brought him special honor is shown in the fact that he was knighted. He 'ivas an intimate friend of Raphael's father; both were greatly influenced b}' Mantegna, Ijut neither of them could compare with that great master in the universality of their art. There are always certain characters in history wlio stand as a sort of backgi-ound to men of largei' minds and greater power. Such a character was Perugino to his famous pupil — Raphael. The master « ill be remembered because of his pupil, and yet the master was an artist of no mean merit him- self. Perugino had his early training at Perugia, near which town he was born in 1446. Later he worked with Francesca and Signorelli at Arezzo; with the latter artist he seemed as opposed in his art as it was possible for two fellow craftsmen to be. It ma}' be that Perugino was a man of no personal religion, but he could express religious feeling in his pictures with fer^•or and tenderness. He had a sentimental way of tilting the head on one side, and giving a pathetic expression to the soft eyes, that became a mannerism; in fact his ^ladonnas and angels are all made from the same model, with the same inclination of the head and the same wistful expression. He earl}' learned to captivate the public by giving a spacious- ness to his compositions that satisfied as well as pleased. In this fresco "Deli\-ering the Keys to St. Peter" (Fig. .52), in the Sistine Chapel, he has intensified the space between the foreground and background b}' using a tessellated pavement and placing a few figures at ^•arying distances; then beyond the figures is a lofty dome with wide-open, airy ^-erandas on each side, and in the far-away distance he added a knely landscape with a setting of fleecy clouds beautiful in color and texture. There is nothing dramatic about Perugino's figures and nothing complicated in the arrangement of his compositions. He knew how to handle color l:)etter than his contemporaries and lias secui'ed a \-i\-idness and liriUiancy that rn-als the A'cnetians. This ma>' possilil}' be due to his use of oil in mixing 74 ITALIAN PAIXTIXG his pigments. It was through Perugino that the use of oil liecame well known in Central Italy, and it was clue to his teaching that the beautiful color of Raphael's paintings has Ijeen preser^•ed to us. The master had a "precise and solid system" that produced a smoothness of surface which prevents his work from blackening with age. In the "Assumption of the Virgin" (Fig. 53), Academy, Florence, the row of saints at the bottom of the painting is a good example of the "solitariness" of figures in all his works. He never crowds in filling space, but allows ample room for each Fuj. b'2. — Perugino. Christ Giving Keys to St. Peter. .Sistine Chajjel. Vatican. figure. The individual pose of each particular saint is full of grace and dignity. ^Ir. Cole speaks particularly of 8t. Michael, the one on the right, as "the embodiment of all that is sweet and gentle." Perugino has carried out the idea of the character of St. ^lichael as expressed by the apostle Jude — a i^attern of meekness antl humility. Perugino's own life was full of weakness and shortcomings. He was avaricious and gras])ing. His one idea, as he grew older, was to gain money, and he would repeat the same thought in his pictures over and over so long as he could find a pur- chaser. He had studios in Perugia and Florence and employed PERUGINO 75 students to work on his compositions while he spent his time wandering over the country gathering orders and mailing engagements. It is said that he would secure an order and demand a payment in advance and then never return to fulfill the engagement; that he did this at Orvieto, is an established fact. Fig. 53. — Perugino. Assumption of the Virgin. Academy, Florence. CHAPTER IX PIXTOHICC'HIU — R03SELLI FRANCIA '^■^HE fact that the artist Bernardino di Benedetto (1454:- J^ 151? 13) was ''undersized and of insignificant appearance" did not prevent him from taking the name of Pintoricchio from the old Italian word pintorc, meaning a master painter. He probably had his early training in his native town Perugia, possibly under a miniature painter, but we have no definite knowledge of his artistic career until 1482, when he came to Piome as an assistant to Perugino, who was at work on the frescos in the Sistine Chapel of the ^'atican. Pintoricchio must have proved himself worthy of jaromotion, for two of the frescos were made by him. That Perugino, who was eight years his senior, exerted a marked influence on him is very evident from the fact that his "Baptism of Christ," in the chapel, was for a long time attributed to the master. His "Portrait of a Boy" (Fig. 54), in the Royal Gallery, Dresden, is one of his early works in \Aliich he still follows the teachings of I^erugino, but does not reproduce any of the master's eccentricities. There is nothing of the sentimentalist in that sober-faced youth. Hi)i.\" earnestly those large full eyes look out from between the half-closed lids! Could anything be more attractive than that chestnut-brown hair hanging so piinily against the warm flesh tones of cheek and brow; and how perfectly the Cjuaint blue ca]i and simple red jacket accord with the whole style of our young friend! We can imagine him swinging off through those classic lands with all the eagerness of healthy boyhood. It w as Pintoricchio's good fortune to be patronized bj' the reigning [lopes in Rome, which brought him many commissions. ()]\e of the most important was an order to dec(u-ate the Borgia .Ijiartments in the ^'atican. This .apjiointmcnt as court painter came through Pojie Alexander ^'I., who, as Cardinal 70 PINTORICCHIO 77 ]5()i;;ia, liail Ijeen his patron. He followed the pope through pome of his many vicissitudes of foi-fune — first to the Castle of St. Angelo as a refuge against the hreuch; then to his own native land. The Boi-gia Apartments were walled up liy order of Pope Julius II., and so they remained until they wcve ii>. / i ■'■ ?ii?5n^¥% ^.atf^iHfefe •faiyii^' ,.-, ■■. -•■; J-_, ,■ bJS^" ;f ''^OT "f^ * ii-.i'ii*'^ HRB '^^^''~:^HH iL^4«^ 1^ i-'tm -^ 1 ^ MyrTTg;T.:3rTMpw BHHfP^^^^iP^^ H^^^^^HhI ^^B /^ ^^^K ^K^K'^'-^^trii^u^MV't^l Fit;, 54. — Pintrtricchio. ]^o>'. RcAal (.ia]ler\'. Dresden. opened by the late iiontilT, I>eo XIII. Tliese frescos ^\el■c I'intoi-icchio's choicest ^\^ol■k. Among them is that exf|uisite medallion, "The ^ladonna and Child" (I'ig. .3.5). than wliirh nothing could ]>e more heautiful. l-^^en tlie fact that the models ff)r tlie madonna and child were .lulia Farnese (sister of Per. Sistine Chapel, Vatican, Rome. main part of the chapel. The ceiling decoi-ations were not made until a quarter of a century after the side frescos were finished. It is said that when the pope was making appointments for the work on his new chapel, the crafty Rosselli, understanding the pope's plebeian love for glitter and show, literally covered his trial painting with gold and thus won the appointment, much to the di.sgust of the other artists — is added. Rosselli must, however, have been an artist of some skill or he could hardly have been allowed to ]3aint six frescos as he did. It is tiue that he is not awai-ded a very high place as an artist to-day; and one critic in speaking of work assigned to Rosselli, says his is a name which "covers many mediocrities." The "Last Supper" (Fig. .57), in the Sistine Chapel, is a HOSSELLI^FRA.N'CIA 81 good exaiii])le of his woi-k. In this jiaintiiig lie sliows a Httie of liis master, ^Jasaecio, in the two standing figures at the right; the one in a wliite tunic is specially fine, but aside from the little life in these two j'ouths, the other figures in the compositions could be carved from wood so fur as any action is expressed. In the arrangement of the aiJ(jstles at the table he has followed the traditions of the past and ])laced Judas on the opposite side of the table from the othei's. The landscapes seen through the windows brighten the otherwise rather dull and monotonous interior. The draperies of the apostles are so stiff and precise that even the con- trasts in the color scheme lose their charm by the too defining line drawn between them. The ai-tist Franc ia (1450-1.518) was celebrated in his daj' for liis l)eautiful goldsmith work. His home was in Bologna, where he was head of the mint foi' many years; the medals and coins made vmder his direction are remarkaljle for their fine, delicate workmanship, ^lany of the early artists were trained in the art of the goldsmith before they began tlieir career as jiainters, wliich gave them an accuracy in di'a\\'ing tliat was a good foundation for broader woi'k. I'rancia came under tlie iiifiuence of .Alantegna, and gained from him the love for form which that master held to Ije of such great importance; and when, latei', the works of Peiugino came to his notice his style as a jiainter assmiied a distinct individuality. His works show jilainly the influence of the Umbrian school, and especially so after tlie young Raphael stamped the school M'ith his immortal genius. It is not known for a certainty that Francia ever saw Raphael, l)ut it is known that they carried on a corres])ondence and exchanged jioi'traits. There was always a jewel-like quality in the exquisite finish Fig. 58. — Francia. Unknown Mau Pidi Palace, Florence. 82 ITALIA.V PAIXTIXG of Franeia's pictures that made them as beautiful as miniatures. The golden tones of the flesh tints and the rich colors laid on so smoothly and evenly showed his goldsmith training, but the loft}- conception of his themes proved his true artistic instincts. He had one rather unpleasant mannerism that reminds one of tlie wig-maker, which is seen even in the portrait of the "Un- known ;\Ian" (Fig. 58), in the Pitti Gallery, Florence. Beau- tiful, rich auljurn hair it is, but what a peculiar growth at the parting on the forehead! How perfect the features are and yet how full of strength! What dignity of pose and how beautifully the clear outline of the soft hat, straight hair, and rich stuff of the robe silhouette against the landscape back- ground, the latter so true to himself! Who is the man? you may ask. What matters it who he is; we know that he was some one that Francia knew, and that he was a man well worth knowing. CHAPTER X LEOXARDO DA VIXCI — BERNARDINO LUINI THE Renaissance in Italy stood at its height in three great masters. No age of the world has ever produced three geniuses to compare with these three men — Leonardf) da Yinci, Jlichael Angelo, and Raphael. They have represented all the powers of the human mind as expressed in versatilit}' anil feeling, creation and passion, harmony and love. Leonardo's mental gifts were of the most varied character. Nature seemed to have lavished on him every talent she had to bestow, but, failing to give him the power of holding himself to one task until it was finished, he was the most fickle of mortals. Then, too, his propensity to experiment in e\ery line was disastrous, in that oftentimes the experiment failed and the grand composition was lost to us because of the failure. We cannot to-day stand before that stupendous ruin of the "Last Supper," in the S. Maria delle Grazie, ililan, without feeling a pang of regret that the man who could cf)nceive such a composition should have failed in preparing his wall, and thus lose to us the grandest conception of that Blessed Scene that has ever been conceived l.)y the mind of man. Even m its ruin it inspires us with awe; what must it luive been when it left the hand of the master! The dignit}' and tenderness of that central figure was only attained after weeks of thought and work on the priceless model that is now in the Academy, Milan (Fig. 59). This portrait of the "Great :\Iaster " has alone crowned the lesser master with lasting fame. It is said of Leonardo that, when painting this face, he made sketch after sketch trying to raise the eyes of the blaster, but failing in the expression that he sought, he dropped the lids, which added the last touch to that lieautiful face. S3 84 ITALIAX PAINTING The apostles in the large fresco of the "Last Supper" (Fig. 60) are all subordinate to that Central Figure and yet they are men of grand personality. No ai'tist has ever made such portraits of these men as has Leonardo. Christ has, possibly, just uttered the words, "He it is to whom I shall give a sop. . . ." Beginning on the left, Bartholomew has just risen from the table in consternation: next to him James (the less), Fii;. 59. — Leonardo da Vii Head of Christ. Brera Gallery-, ililan. with his hand on Peter's ai'm, is mildly inquiring: Andrew with uplifted hands exhil)its astonishment; then Peter, eagerly leaning toward 8t. .John, with his hand on his shouldei', expresses suppres.sed excitement; in front of Peter, leaning on the table with the l)ag clutched in one hand and the other stretched out toward the -Master, is the traitdr .Judas, liis whole manner full i)f opposition: .Jolm with downcast eyes and folded hands waits with peifect confidence: on the riglit of the Savior, James (the great) with aims outstretclicd sliows distress and dismay; ]>ack of James is Tliomas witli ujilifted finger, ready for aggressive action: Pliili]j, lisiug with his hands on his lieart, looks worried J.EOXAKIio DA \L\CI 85 I'il;. fiO. — I,eunardu ila \'iiui. The La.-t Supper ia^ Grazie. Milan. t pointing towaixl the Savioi-, while he turns to the other disciples «'ith a look of questioning \',-ondei': Thaddeus with one hand uplifted has a face full of horror; and Simon spreads his hands out with stern disapproval. Fortunatel}- for us Raphael Sanzio .Mo)-ghen, an Italian engraver, made an engraving of the "Last Supper" (Fig. 61), the last of the eighteenth century, before that fearful havoc that was wrought on the fresco by Napoleon's soldiers. The opening in the lower part of the painting was a doorwa\' cut Flc. fil. — I.ennardo Ma Vint Tin' La^t Snpiier (from engra\"i (irazie, MilaTt. SG ITALIAN PAIXTIXG in the seventeenth century, and tlie restorer did greater damage later. Leonardo was Ijorn in 1452. At fifteen lie was a pupil of \'errocchio and a fellow student with Perugino and Lorenzo di Credi. He was a man of such personal beauty and magnetism that he was sought after by both Church and State. He was invited to Rome by Pope Leo X., but while there the spirit to experiment was so strong upon him that he accomplished almost nothing. The pope found him one day preparing to make a new varnish. " Alas!" said Pope Leo; "this man will do nothing, for he thinks of finishing his picture before he begins it." Fig. 62, — Leonardo da \'inci. Madonna and Child. S. Onofrio. Rome. The master's early years were spent in the service of Lodovlco Sforza, at ililan. While there he made a famous model for an equestrian statue, that, had it been finished, would have equaled anything ever made l:)y the Grecian masters, but time was too short and the statue was never cast. The description that Leonardo gi^•es of his own talents in the famous letter written to Lodovico Sforza is very true in its closing words, when he says, " In time of peace, I believe I can equal any one in archi- tecture, m constructing public and private buildings, and in conducting water from one place to another. I can execute sculpture, whether in marble, bronze, or terra-cotta; and in painting I can do as much as any other, lie he who he may. LEUXARUO DA VLXCI 87 Further, I could engage to execute the bronze horse in eternal memory of your father and the illustrious house of Sforza." There are not more than five or six authentic works left of the great Leonardo, ^lany paintings have been claimed as his by different authorities, but niodein critics haxe set thejn aside as not genuine. In the Convent fif Silence, S. Onofrio, on the left side of the Tiber just south of St. Peter's, Rome, is a unique "^ladonna and Child with Donor" (Fig. 62) set in a mosaic background, which is considered by Lubke as one of his earlier works. There is more of the influence of the Floren- tine school in this painting, as seen in the coloring — cool and simple. The picture has Ijeen very much injured by the restorer, but there still remains that mysterious something that Leonardo left on all his works, stamping them as genuine. The marvelous portrait of the wife of Francesco del Giocondo, usually called " Mona Lisa" (Fig. 63), is one of the greatest treasures of the Salon Carre, in the Louvre, Paris. Leonardo, after spending four years on this portrait, considered it unfin- ished. Although unfinished, from his standpoint, it is a master- piece of painting. That smile has been the wonder of the critic and the despair of the artist for these four hundred years and more. To paint a face smiling or crying without its being grotesque requires the greatest of skill, and when Leonardo fixed on canvas that everlasting smile he gave to the world an inestimable gift. True, musicians were kept playing to enliA'en the beautiful woman, but was it the music that has revealed the very soul of this woman to us, or was it the artist himself who has touched the deepest chord of her being? Not the lips alone reflect the inward workings of the brain of that silent floman, but the ej'es speak to us in that silent language — a language universal to humanity. Is she beautiful? Who can answer that question? Surely she is fascinating. What a mysterj' seems to shroud her whole existence! Look at her hands folded so peacefully over each other, but how full of life! How well she fits into the background with its winding .stream having no beginning or end! She seems to keep saying. " Men may come, and men may go, But I go on forever." .s>i ITALIAX PAIXTIXG The last of Leonardo's life was spent in France under the |)atronage of the young King Francis I. Cellini writes that "King Francis was passionately enamored of the great mas- ter's talents, and told me himself that never any man had come into the world who knew as much as Leonardo." He -Lenuar'.lo 4a \'inci. Mona Li.^a. Lou\'re. Paii>. died in -May, 1519, in a manor liousc near the king's palace, not far fi-om the town of Amhoise, on the ri^•er Loii-e. By one of those strange lapses of ^'asari in his history of the Italian painters, we are left in almost entire ignorance of the iiersonal histor\- of l-iernai'dino Luini. That he was in Milan under the influence of Leonara LUINl 89 \ inci l)ec:iuse of the great similarity to his work. It would have been impossible for a man of Luini's sympathetic and plastic nature to have come under the shadow of the greater genius without showing traces of it, but he was not an imitator however; he w'as a follower. Luini was an artist who painted from a love of his art and not for the money value. Man\- times he was well satisfied if he leceived his living in return for the time spent on a picture. He was poor and in trouljle the Fig. 64. — Bernan.lluo Luini. Marriage of the Virgin. Santiiarir^, Sarunno. jtal.v. greater part of his life and seemed most grateful for protection and help, for which he willingly gave of his best in return. That he was a man of kindly feeling and of a lovable nature shows itself in his works, Ijut with all his good will toward liis fellow man, strange as it may .seem, he was driven from ]>lace to place becau.se of strange misfortunes that came to him. When al:)out fifty years old he was compelled to flee from .Milan, for the story goes he had killed a man in self-defense, so he found refuge in the pilgrimage church of Saronno, a small town between ^lilan and Como. The monks compelled him to pay for his protection by painting a series of frescos on the 90 ITALIAN PAINTING walls of the church. He chose for his subjects incidents from the life of the Virgin. Among them is "The .Marriage of the A'irgin" (Fig. 64), which, Va.sari sa3's, "is admirably executed." \'ery meager praise for so beautiful a painting! The perfect simplicity and real sincerity of all the actors in this marriage ceremony are charming. These two cjualities — simplicity and sincerity — are special characteristics of all of Luini's work. No artist since Fra Angelico put more of the religion of the heart into his pictures. As a fresco painter he had few equals and no superiors. When about to leave the pilgrimage church at Saronno he painted, as a thank offering, a "Nativity" on the walls of the cloister. The monks remarked, "'Tis almost a jjity that Bernardino did not murder more men, that we might have received from him more gifts." It is possible that the ])riest performing the marriage ceremony in this picture is a I)ortrait of Luini himself. He paints himself as a ralalii in "The Christ before the Doctors" in the same series of frescos, and this face bears a strong resemblance to that ral^bi. ilost of Luini's compositions were for the Church or the monk. He was nevei- the fa^-orite of the rich antl powerful, as was Leonardo, nor was his home in the palace and the manor house. He was cjuite content to live and labor, adding nothing to advance his art, but detracting nothing by following unworthy masters. He was a worthy follower of the great Leonardo da Vinci. CHAPTER XI MICHAEL ANGELO IT is hardly possible to understand the artistic development of Florence without some knowledge of the Medici family. This family was purely Florentine in origin. Fnjm sim])le merchants they became merchant princes of enormous wealth, who for four hundred 3'ears held the balance of power in Flor- ence. Although they became the real rulers of the city, they were, from the very first, wise enough to hold themseb'es in check and exert their influence through their fabulous wealth, which they used for the good of the State. Their great power over the masses was largely due to wai-mth of heart and gener- ous aid in personal troubles. This liberal and generous spirit was handed down from father to son until the name ^ledici stood as a sjmonym for generosity in everything. They 'were patrons of arts, sciences, and letters from the veiy beginning of their history. The real founder of the house of ^ledici was Cosimo the Elder, and with his grandson, Lorenzo the ^hignificent, it leached its height in wealth and power. During Lorenzo's reign Florence, too, was never so loaded with honor and fame. Savonarola was filling the city with his teachings, thundering against the magnificent display and enormous outlay of money and beseeching in most persuasive language a return to simple living and Christ-like hiunility. -Around these two ]iowerful men were gathered the greatest artists the woi'ld has e\er knr)wn. Their names alone quicken the heart-lieat and fill one with wonder and awe. Michael Angelo was born in 147.5. The saying goes that wliile the young artist was still a pupil in Ghirlandajo's studio, Lorenzo de' ^ledici applied to the master for pupils to enter the school of design which he had founded. fJhirlandajo sent 91 92 ITALIAN PALXTIXG young Jlichael to him. Lorenzo being pleased witli the selec- tion, and foreseeing the genius of tlie boy, received him into his palace, seated him at his own table, and made him a com- panion to his sons. It «'as Giovanni, one of these sons, the same age as ^ilichael, who, when he became Pope Leo X., in 15L3, so shamefully wasted the artist's precious time by his stubbornness and indecision. For three years ^lichael Angelo came in contact with the most learned men of his time, which developed his mind and ga^-e it a Ijreadth and accuracy far beyond his age. The death of Lorenzo in 1492 was a great grief to the young artist — he had lost more than a patron, he had lost a friend. The son, Pietro de' iledici, invited the artist to remain at the palace, and, it is said, he often consulted with him about the purchase of gems and antiques. Pietro lacked the affable manner and kindly feelings that endeared his father to all around him, and soon lost his power over the people. ^lichael Angelo found it wise for him to leave the palace and even Florence for a time. It is possible that when this young genius was a little boy he may ha^•e seen Leonardo da Vinci, for that great master was living in his own house in Florence in 1481; we do know tliat twenty vears later the}' were Ijoth commissioned to paint the walls of the Council Hall, in Florence, ):)ut neither of them carried out the commission. Both of the artists made cartoons for the paintings that were the wonder of all artists; there still remains of Alichael Angelo's, a small detail in his "Soldiers Bathing." It was not as a painter that ^lichael Angelo was first known, but as a sculptor and architect, and not until his return to Piome in 1.508 did he, under protest, take up his brush. When Julius II, was made ]5ope, he summoned the young artist to Rome and ordered him to design a monument that would throw ever}'thing else into the shade. The design was accepted with enthusiasm by the pope and the work was to begin at once. ^lichael Angelo went to Carrara where he sjient six months in the quarries getting out the marble for this colossal tiinib of .Julius II. MICHAEL AXGELO 93 The friendship l^et^een these t^xu ■^tntng natui'es was a jiicturesque one, as quanels and recfincihatiiDis marked it from first to hist. Neither was wihing to yield an inch, and yet each realized the worth of the other. It was always the old pope who made the first ad\'ances to re-establish the broken fi'iendship. The woi'k on the new tomlj was hardly begun before a cjuarrel was imminent, and Michael Angelo left Konie. On his return after several }-ears of absence, lie expectetl to take up the interrupted work on the monument, but now Julius II. had his heart set on rebuilding iSt. Peter's. Although the work was in the hands of the architect Bramante, the pope ordered .^lichael Angelo to work on it too. Bramante, lieing jealous of Michael Angelo and wishing to luin him in the eyes of the pope, suggested that he be appointed to decorate the ceiling of the 8istine Chapel, knowing that it was work that he was not accustomed to do. The i)ope was pleased with the proposition and ordered the painting to l)e begun at once. Michael Angelo demurred, but the old pope would have his way. \\ hen at last he accepted the task liis feitile rnind concei\'ed a plan so tremendous and so uirique that onl)' a man of iron constitution and unyielding will could have completed a work of such giant jn-oportions. After having decided on the chai- acter of the decorations no power on eai'th could change him one iota. The old pope suggested, found fault, and e\en threatened, but ^fichael Angelo held his own, and after four }'ears and a half of almost incessant labor he came down from the scaffold for the last time, having completed, in its entirety, the only work which, in all his long, ti'oulilous life, he was allowed to finish as he had conceived it. In the decorations of the Sistine ceiling Michael .\ngelo left to ])osterity a work beyond description. It was over twenty years from the time the side frescos were finished before this great master was appointed to decorate the ceiling. This work alone would have been a sufficient undertaking for an ordinary mind. The pope's idea was to cover tlie space with tweh'e scenes with the tweh'e apostles, but this was far too meager for the creative mind of the artist, who made over two hundred colossal figures with a historv 94 ITALIAN PAI.XTING that c-dvered the world from the first day of creation until after the flood, and prophets and Sibyls who foretold all com- ing events. Each section of the fresco was a complete whole. The space to be covered was a plain vaulted ceiling; this the artist has divided into sections with architectural division lines so true in perspective and design that the most critical eye is unable to detect the deception. In the nine central di^■isions are placed the acts of creation, the temptation, and the histoiy of the flood. Around these are symbolic decora- ti\'e figures, and Ijelow each division are the prophets and Sil)}-ls with caryatids, on either side, supporting the make- belie^•e pillars of the deceptiA-e framework. In the fourth central division is the "Creation of Adam" (Fig. 65). "And God said, het us malve man in our own image, after our like- ness. ... So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him." Could anything be simpler or more comprehensive tl^an tliose strong Anglo-Saxon words telling that grand old Hebrew stor}-? Thousands of years came and \\'ent Ijefore the story found an interpreter who could l>icture tlie scene with such strength in so simple a manner. The conception of this act of creation is so awe-inspiring and the thought expressed so reverential one feels that only a man inspired of God could luu'e made so noble a creation. To make a visiljle Creator, when even ]\Ioses "was afraid to look upon God," was a most daring undertaking, but who would question tlie reverence of Micliael Angelo in imaging tlie Father in ^^■hose likeness man «'as made? How well he has preserved the sense of mystery by shroucUng the body of the Almighty in tlie shadowy \-iolet robe, and yet how like that body is the nude form f)f the newly created Adam! What a wealth of nascent strengtli is latent in this first Adam! Surely, the forces primeval are suggested in the dark mountain ,«ide and the misty blue-gray of the firmament! What a marvelous awakening that was \\iien the divine spark of life leaped from the finger of God tlirough the intervening space and roused into life the noble being that He had made to have dominion oxev the earth! The Bible story has a deeper meaning through the interpretation of tins prophet of God. 96 ITALIAN PAIXTIXG The perspective of these twelve colossal figures of prophets and Sibyls is such that they appear to be seated around the interior of a temple where they can view the scenes in the vault above. Whether studying the single scene or looking at the composition as a whole, one is convinced that ^lichael Angelo knew his Biljle and read it again and again, and to this knowl- edge he added traditional lore which broadened and deepened the meaning of each separate figure until the vision as a whole is as though he understood "all mysteries, and all knowledge." Under "Let There be Light" is Jeremiah (Fig. 66), that grand prophet who bore on his heart the sins and backslidings of the children of Israel. There is nothing in the history of painting that equals the strength and grandeur of thi.s single figure, llichael Angelo has condensed into this creation the bitterness, sadness, and hopefulness of .Jeremiah as expressed in his prophecy about the chosen people. The Ijurden of the prophecy of these men of God was the scheme of salvation as foretold in the Old Testament. Seated with these prophets of old are the Sibyls — that peculiar race of women. These ]irophetesses were to the Gentiles what the propliets were to the .Jews in predicting the coming Redeemei-. ^■ery curious and interesting are the traditions ]3ertaining to the origin and the teachings of the Siljyls. Alichacl Angelo has interpreted their several offices and attributes in his own original manner, and none more true to her office than the "Cumipan Sibyl" (Fig. 67), who foretold the Xati\ity in a stable. J>egend savs that six centuries tiefoie Fl(i. Hfj. — Michael Angelo. .Jeremiali. Sistine Cliapel, A'atican, Rome. MICHAEL AX(;EU) 97 Christ she came tliree times to Taniuiii. King of Rome, to sell him nine books of ])i-opheev. JKacli time he refused tlie books she Inirned three; the third time he bought tlie last three books, paying the price of the oiiginal nine. For centuries these books were under the care of the priests in the Capitol, Fk;. t->7. — Michael Angela. CuTii;can Sibjl. .Sj^tine Chapel. ^"aIiean. Rome. where they were coii'-ulted at trying ijeriods rif the nation's history, until they were destroyed at the burning of the temple of Jupiter in S3 b.c. "Tlie highest honor that art has rendered to the Sibyls" is f>n the Sistine ceiling. When the work was first jjegun on tlie Sistine Chapel, .'uhus II. ordered Rramante to ])ut u]) the scaffolding, but AJichael Angelo was so disgusted with the liungling work that 0f life), and Atropcis has the shears read}' teautiful and full of Divine strenjith. How lightly and yet how firmly he stands on the evil one! The poise of the wings and the flutter of the drapeiy sliow that tlie angel has seen the dragon from afar and has, with one down- Fl(i. 76. — Raphael. Sf. Michael and the 13rafrriii. T.ouvre, Pari^. ward sweep, caught him unawares and now with lance uplifted he is ready to pin him to the earth. The rocky coast is a fit habitation for such a monster. Just such a spirit as liaphael's was needed to gather up all that was beautiful in his predecessors, while he obliterated 110 ITALIAN I'AIXTIXG all that was inartistic of the iliddle Ages. Young as he was, his influence was felt e\-er3'where. Tender-hearted, sympathetic, and generously helj^ful, no artist was exev blessed with a greater number of friends. Even ]tlichael Angelo, who was ne\-er on friendly terms with him, acknowledged the genius of the young painter, ilany word pictures are given us of Raphael and his friends — how his followers would seem to hang on every word that their "divine" friend and master had to say as they passed along the street together. Of tlie forty ;\Iadonnas credited to Rapliael his la.st and greatest was the world-famed "Sistine iladonna" (Fig. 77j. A feeling of awe creeps over one on entering the special cabinet «here it stands on an altar-like structure in the Royal Galler}- of Dresden. On the lower part of the support is an Italian inscription from Vasari which reads in English: "For the Black Monks of San Sisto in Piacenza Raphael painted a pic- ture for the high altar sho\\ing Our Lady with St. Sixtus and St. Barbara — truly a work most e.xcellent and rare." As we sit there in that silent room and let the sublime influence of the Holy ^lother and Divine Child flood our verj- souls, we then become conscious that the brush of the master \\as iaspired from aljove when he painted that ^lotlier and that Child. Analyze as we may, in pointing out that the width between the eyes gives spiritual insight and stepping from the clouds a Di\'ine mystery, we have simply tried to reason out something tliat cannot be understood except through the spirit of devotion. It is not the liuman mother as portrayed in the " ^ladonna of the Chaii'," where the baby is drawn with the mother's left arm close to her heart. Here is spiritual motherliood. True, the Child .Jesus has come to her alone, but she alone realizes that He had come as a universal Redeemer and that she — blessed of all women — was the mother of this Divine mystery. At this time Rome was filled ■\Aith great painters, and naturally there were many opinions as to what artist stood at the head. Cardinal Ciiulio de' Medici, who later was Pope Clement ML, took the matter in hand and ordered Raphael and Seliastiano del Piomho each to paint a picture. These -Raijhael. The Sistine Madonna. Dresden Gallery. 112 ITALIAN PAINTING two paintings, "The Transfiguration" (Fig. 78) by Rapliael and "The Raising of Lazarus" (Fig. 80) by Piombo, were intended, by the cardinal, for the cathedral at Narbonne, where he was archbishop. Michael Angelo, who was jealous for Piombo to succeed, and realizing that his favorite's weak point was design, made the cartoon for his picture himself, and some say that he drew in the figure of Lazarus. He made no secret of what he had done, so that Raphael soon heard of it, and then it was that Raphael made that famous remark: "^Michael Angelo has graciously favored me, in that he has deemed me worthv to compete with himself, and not with Sebastiano!" \\e can never look upon this great painting — "The Transfigura- tion" — without a feeling of intense sadness that one so young and so gifted should have been cut down so soon. Raphael at this time was superintending the unearthing of old Greek art treasures, at which work he is said to have contracted a fever and died in fourteen days, on Good Friday, 1520. All Rome moui-ned for their favorite. He was laid in state, and alcove his head was placed this unfinished yet glorious "Transfigura- tion." F''rom his own house near St. Peter's he was followed l^y a -^'ast multitude to the Pantheon, where he was buried in a spot chosen by himself during his lifetime. Raphael could hardly have chosen a more fitting subject as a benediction to his life. It was a daring thing in an artist to make a picture with two such decided centers of interest, but with what consummate skill has Raphael liandled the problem! ^^'c feel the human side of life in the scene below — there are the father and mother with the afflicted child, hoping yet anxious, pleading and demanding even, in their appeal to the disciples. Over against this human api)eal for help is the human weakness and failure of those earnest, strong men who are eager to help but are helpless. Our hearts would cry out with despair were it not for the two who point to the mountain; we lift our eyes, and there, filled with the glory of the Lord, is the Blessed Savior — the One who can never fail. "The Transfiguration" is in the ^'atican, Rome. Of all the followers of Rajjliael possilily Giulio Romano is the strongest. He \va,s energetic and had a nolile style of design Fig. 7S. — Raphael. The Tranaliguratiuii. The Vatican, Rome. 114 ITALIAN PAIXTIXG with a good kno\\'ledge of the h\iman bod}-. His "Dance of the -Muses" (Fig. 79), in the Pitti, Florence, is full of poetic motion. Lanzi thinks that sometimes his demonstration of ^S % H ^^P h-^^m^M yl m K^^pk^' <<{ > ^^Mg ^ ai~W m^KK^:^ / UtLi KaBlB^ -^^"'•Srji fKj^^~< ^^^^$ m w WzSi^^^^M jJKa^j" •^.;s^.W!B!J?'!SB3Siafc i.uro-L-H Tttf.i-atH iMaj afcy-n V a HI.. __. "H^^"^ j^^H Fifi. 79. — Romano. The Dance of the Muse.s. Pitti Palace, Florence. motion is too violent, and "Vasari preferred his drawings to his pictures, as he thought that the fire of original conception was apt to evaporate, in some degree, in the finishing." ^'ery soon the great art of Raphael began to decline and decadence set in. Romano was the beginning of the end of the Roman school. CHAPTER XIII SKBASTIAN'O DEL PIOIIBO — FRA BARTOLOMMEO — ALBERTIXELLI AXDREA DEL SAKTU SEBASTIANO DEL PIOMBO (1485-1547) was a Florentine by adoption only. He was born in Venice and was trained under the ^'enetian artists, and from tliem gained liis wonderful skill in color. When he was about twenty-se\'en he was in\-ited to Rome by a rich banker who owned a Roman villa — Farnesina — noted to-day for the "Galatea" of Raphael. In this villa Pionibo painted a numljer of lunettes, filling them "with scenes from the kingdom of the air and from metamor- phoses in wliich human beings are changed into lairds." Piombo was greatly influenced by both Michael Angelo and Raphael. He wished to combine in his art the Florentine line of the former artist with the marvelous color of Titian and by so doing rival Raphael in the contest appointed by Cardinal Giulio de' Medici. There is no doubt but that Michael Angelo made designs for some of the figures for the " Raising of Lazarus" (Fig. 80) , National Gallery, London, as stated in the last chapter, as sketches for Lazarus and some of the other figures are in the British Museum and at Oxford. It is hardly our imagination that makes us feel the supe- riority of Lazarus oxer many of the other figures. There is no coming to life gradually in that body. We realize that ilichael Angelo felt the full power of the Savior's words — "Lazarus, come forth." Ever}' muscle, every joint, every sinew is teem- ing with new-found life and strength. Michael Angelo and Fra Bartolommeo were both Florentines and were both born in 1475, and each was the special favorite of the two greatest men in Florence — Lorenzo de' ^ledici and Savonarola. We can better appreciate the development of 11.5 IK) ITALIAN rAIXTING these two artists if we give a Ijrief account of those early spi-ing days in Florence in the 3'ear 1492. On the one side was Lorenzo de' Medici, whose fame and power were at their very height; on the other Savonarola, daring to oppose with his preaching that worldly power. Too much Fig, 80. — .Sebastians (!el Pinnibo. The Raising of Lazai'us, National CJaller^-, London, prosperity was causing many false steps; these, together with the incessant outbursts of the friar against the extravagances and godlessness of the I'ich, \a ere gathering a storm amongst the populace that would shake the foundation of the Medici sti'onghold. Then it was that Lorenzo made those almost humble appeals to Savonarola, asking him to lessen his severe SAVO.N'AROLA— LUKEXZO DE' MEDICI 117 in\'ectives, but which were of no avail excejit to call forth that proplietic mesKage, " He whall go away, but I shall wtay." Tlie spring opened, and Lorenzo, although in the full ^•igor of health, was taken ill. This sudden call into the gloom awakened the sleeping conscience of Lorenzo and Ijrought vividly before him certain acts that caused agony of soul and a passionate desire for pardon. It \\'as not to his flatterers that he turned in his distress, but to his condemner, the stern Dominican friar. Not until the stricken man sent the second message, promising to agree with and follow out every direction, did Savonarola obey the summons. The first two requirements — "faith in God" and "the return of .ill-gotten gains" — the sick man agreed to. Then the friar made the third demand — "Lastly, it is necessary that freedom, and her popular go^'ernment according to republican usage, should l^e restored to Florence." Then it was that the dying man turned his face to the wall and in silence passed from earth. The great preacher went out from the presence of death without gi\'ing the pardon or the blessing. It was the contest of two great souls — one seek- ing worldly power and aggrandizement, the other seeking to advance the Spiritual Kingdom in this world. Both men came to untimely ends — one )),v the hand of God, the other by the hand of man. ^'ery early in his life Fra Bartolommef) became a de^'oted follower of Savonarola. All Florence loved this miltl, gentle painter who had his home at the citj^ gate and ^\'ho ^^-ent about his work with his mind and heart full of the earnest, elocjuent words of the great preacher. The stein yet lo^-ing words of truth spoken so fearlessly by this prophet monk were gradually developing an element in the painters of Florence that gave a breadth and depth to their work far beyond anything of the past. When Fra Bartolommeo was nine years old his father placed him in Gosimo Rosselli's studio, where was formed that strange friendship between hinr and the boisterous, lawless Mariotto Alljertinelli, who was one year his senior. When these Ijoys, who loved each other until "they became, as it were, one body and one soul," were about sixteen and seventeen. 118 ITALIAN PAIXTIXG they opened their own studio. Lanzi says of them: "They may Ije compared to two streams springing from the same source; the one to l^ecome a brool<, and the other a mighty river." They spent a great deal of time in Lorenzo de' .Medici's garden copying tlie antique marbles that Lorenzo had taken such pains to collect. Here they may have known .^lichael Angelo, and here, together, they aljsorbed that love for the Greek ideal that gave such fullness and grace to their com- positions. Baccio (the diminutive of Bartolommeo), as he was always called until he became a monk, was also an earnest student of ^lasaccio and iDarticularly of Leonardo da Mnci. He was industrious and untiring, and by his example kept the young Albertinelli within bounds for a while, at lea.st. One of the first works of real importance of Baccio's was his portrait of Savonarola (Fig. 81). The original painting is said to be in a private collection at Prato; a copy is in the preacher's cell, San Marco, Florence. Even the copy of that wonderful likeness makes the prophet preacher so much of a reality that his ver}' presence is felt in the bare little room. What a powerful face that is, with its ponderous features of nose, mouth, and chin, and, yet how one is drawn to the homely monk Ijy that very strength! How we would like to have Ijeen in Romola's place and have had such a monitor arrest us when fleeing from duty! As the crisis in the life of Savonarola drew near, a break in the friendship of Baccio and Albertinelli was inevitable. Baccio was among the Piagnoni, or Mourners (as Savonarola's followers were sarcastically called) ; Albertinelli openly scoffed and sneered at the friar and his disciples. Poor Baccio! too timid to follow his beloved teacher to the sad end, but too devoted not to be crushed and broken-hearted when that awful end came. He laid down his brush and two years afterward took upon him- self the vows of the Dominican Order and became a monk of San ^larco. We now know him as Fra Bartolommeo — sad, gentle, and human, a worthy inheritor of the place left by the "Angel Painter," Fra Angelico. After four years of mourning for his beloved friend and teacher he was again persuaded to take up his brush. Fra FKA BAKTULUMMEU 119 Bartolommeo, the artist, was far superior to ]5aeeio, tlie artist, of four years before. His old enthusiasm for his art retuined and he apphed himself with greater zeal than ever before, but now his talent was devoted to the Church. He earnestly desired to fill every saint and angel with the spirit of devotion. ■ MJSSI'PaOPHETyE'Er FiGlE S«- >v4sv»' in darkening his shadows. One of the vei'\- best examples showing what Fra Bartolom- meo could do «hen away from the immediate influences of the men he lo\ed antl re\-ered is the " .Madonna bet^•\■een St. Stephen FRA BARTULOMMEO lai and 8t. John the Baptist " (Fig. 82), in the cathedral at Lucca. In this altar-piece only Fra Bartolommeo is seen and seen at his best. From the balance of the composition, the beautiful harmony of color, the natural background of blue sky — so expansi\'e and yet so perfect a setting — the easy folds of the draperj', so full, broad, and graceful; to the beautiful face of the Madonna, the earnest, sincere faces of the saints and charm- ing little angels, all are given with perfect simplicity and direct- ness. The angels in the picture, especiall}' the one at the foot of the throne, are charming little fellows and are probably a remembrance of the Venetian angels. There is a little suggestionof the jointed layfig- ure that Fra Bartolommeo invented, in the draping of 8t. Stephen, Ijut the guilelessness of attitude and the naive placing of the emblematic stones on his head are so fraught with sincerity that a little stiffness of pose and rigidity of fold are for- given. The jeweled crown and saffron-colored veil held l^y the angel-bo3's above the head of the ^ladonna are very effective against the tender blue of the sky. Every note in the picture vibrates without a single discord. Fra Bartolommeo's interpretation of the character (if Mar}- ]\Iagdalene is peculiarly his own. She is one of his favorites in the Go.spel story, and no one has more tenderh' concealed her frailties. This is particularly true of the "ilagdalene" (Fig. 83) in the Florence Gallery. The rich low tones of her under-robe and drapery emphasize their f|ualit>' and ser^-e to carry out the legend of the great \'\'ealth of the Magdalene, while the dignified attitude of quiet submission to the forgi\'ing Savior suggests the homage of one who was used to commanding it herself. The delicately tinted, filmy veil over the fluffy golden hair is just the touch needed to soften the blanched face of the repentant woman. How wonderfully the drooped FlG.S.3. — Fra Bartolommeo. Mar^- Magdalene. Florence. 122 ITALIAN PAIXTIXG Fm. S4.^Albertinelli. The 8alutati"n. Uffizi. Florence. e^velids and quiverina; cliin mark the ^^pirit of true repentaiu-e! The sul^tihty with which tlie artist has c-omliined tlie repentant sinner and the foroiven woman of tlie world without exaggerat- ing either is a master stroke. If one man ever redeemed liimself in the eyes of the world from all the follies of a lifetime, that man was Albertinelli when he painted his "Visitation," or "Salutation" (Fig. 84) as it is sometimes called. This pictui'e, in the Uffizi Gallery, Florence, is not only liis mastei'piece, but one of the masterpieces of the ALJiERTIXELLI 128 world. ^Ir. Timothy Cole, whose engraving of the subject is a work of art, says: "The simple grandeur of the composition, combined with its warmth and richness of coloring and depth of feeling depicted in the expression and action of the figuies, makes this work a delightful and soul-satisf\-ing thing to con- template." How was it possible for a man whose life was so full of irregularities to paint such a picture of beauty and devoutness! That beautiful spirit of suljniission and yet of dignity of Elizabeth as she greets the ".Mother of her Lord'' fills us with awe. This is a picture that when once seen is never forgotten. You must study every detail of the painting, from the exquisitely painted flowers in the foreground, the cleverly handled white handkerchief over the head and shoulders of Elizabeth, to the delicately ornamented poi-tico and the tiny glimpse of the hill country beyond. Again the partnership was broken between these two friends. It is said that Albertinelli, tired of the restraints of his art, took up tavern keeping as a much pleasanter and more congenial calling; this change, however, did not break the friendship, for when the end came to this reckless, self- indulgent, warm-hearted fellow, it was to his gentle, lo\'ing Baccio that he turned for comfort, and in his protecting arms he breathed his last. Who knows Ijut that the pra^'ers of that Christian monk for that poor erring soul gained him admission at the throne of Grace? Only two short years longer did Era Bartolommeo live and paint, then he, too, died in 1517. Some one in writing of Andrea del Sarto (1486-1531) said he either came too soon or too late to stand as a great artist in his time. Was it that'? or was it as Browning puts the words into the artist's own mouth in those lines ending that wonderful poem, "Andrea del Sarto"; ", . . Had the mouth there urged, God and the glory! never care for gain. The present by the future, ^vhat is that? Live for fame, side by side with Angelo! Raphael is waiting: up to God, all three! I might have done it foryoii. So it seems: Perhaps not. All is as God o'errules." 124 ITALIAN PAIXTIXG Who knows what a good woman, loving her husband, and serving her God, might have done for such a genius? For a genius he certainly was! How he loved the beautiful face of his soulless, heartless wife! Over and over again this "fault- less painter'' painted that faultless face — both faultless so far as technic and beauty of form goes. In no painting has Andrea shown a deeper religious feeling than in the "Madonna ^^^H^ m^ ^V^HI ^^J^?¥""- ":?; -J*E5P* ; i^iJI IH^^^I^^^^I K •- -''"'■J Inf a fl^^^^H ^BkL^ ^^J^Bb^ IE ^#i^H ^^^^^^HF-^'"' 1 ^^m '^j'l ^^^^B^^l m \ 'it k^^^^^^^^^^^^l Fig. 85. — Andrea del Sarto. Madonna and Child (detail). Uffizi. Florence. of the Harpies" (P'ig. 85 detail), in the Uffizi, Florence. By dropping the eyelids over the cold, Ijrilliant eyes the devoted husband has suljdued the proud beauty of the arrogant woman into the quiet dignity of the Holy ^lotlier. The face of the Madonna is, indeed. Ijeautiful, lint ^\■ho can separate her from his wife — that cruel, cold, selfish woman? The sweet simplicity of the composition has given it a nobilit>' that has seldom been er|ualed. The effect of his combination of colors is most har- monious. How beautiful the rich red rofie and soft blue mantle AXDREA DEL SARTO 125 of the Virgin are again^;t the tender tlesh of the Ijaby Jesns; then, too, the mellow white of the veil ovei' the dark auburn hair of the ^lother is just the contra.st to soften and purif}' every feature. There is a statuesf)ueness in this detail of the .Mother and Child that would Ije woithy of reproduction in the purest Carrara marljle. Andrea del Sarto was a Florentine, tlie son of a tailor, hence his name — del Sarto. His grandfather and great-grandfather belonged to the bourgeois class; he, himself, chose his wife from the same class, yet he was never vulgar in his art. When se^'en yenYB old he was placed in a goldsmith's shop. Here he showed such skill in making designs that he ■^^'as soon transferred to an artist's studio, where his progress was so wonderful that when he was a mere child, only twelve years old, he ^^"as engaged as an assistant to Piero de' Medici. He \^as a diligent student of ilasaccio, Leonardo da Vinci, Fra Bartolommeo, and iJichael Angelo, and from these great painters he absorbed the principles on which his own art was founded. Like Raphael he could assimilate and 3'et hold his own personalit}'. No artist of his time understood the tech- nical part of art better than did Andrea — his hand was unerring, but there was a certain timidity and uncertainty about him that kept him from just reaching the highest point. .Michael Angelo may have gi^-en the real cause of his failure in his letter to Raphael about him: "There is a little fellow at Florence who, if lie was employed as you are upon great works, would have made it A-eiy hot for you." Even Raphael could not have excelled the "Boy Angels" (Fig. 86) in the Academy, Florence. They are a perfect picture of innocent childhood — earthly children, but fit for heaven becau.se of their sinlessness. These angels are fit companions to the cherubs gazing over the battlements of heaven in the " Sistine Madonna " (Fig. 77). One realizes when lookins; at these roguish little mites that Andrea was Fl.i. si;.— Andrea .lei Sarto. Angel Chil- dren. Academy, Florence. 1-M ITALIAX PAIXTIXG not lacking in parentiil love, and, turning from these children to "St. Agnes" (Fig. 87), in the cathedral at Tisa, it is equally true that the religious element was not altogether wanting in his nature. Xo more beautiful picture has ever been painted of St. Agnes than this one. The perfect simplicit}' of the drapery harmonizes Ijeautifully with the expression of innocence and purity on the upturned face of the sainted maiden. How gently her hand rests on the lamb b)' her side and how cleverly he has referred to her story b}' her lamb and shining garment! With what per- fect skill he has balanced the picture; nothing de- tracts from its unity and completeness. Again he is the "faultless painter," with almost the inspiration of a Raphael. ^'ery early in his career he ^vas invited by Francis I. to come to France. The gay life of the court, the congenial companions, and doing work that he loved made this part of Andrea's life a pleasure and delight. Very soon, however, his wife began to beg that he come home, as she Vi'as too lonely without him. The least sign of \o\e was accepted as genuine by the infatuated husband, so he obtained permission from the king to return to Florence ff)r a time. He was sent back with a large sum of money, with \\'hich he was to buy works of art for the French court. Again this l)eautiful woman's influence was fatal. The money was spent buying her a beautiful home and gorgeous adorn- ings, and his return to France was made impossilile. In the monastei-y of San Salvi, Florence, is the celebrated "Last Supper" (Fig.SS),of Andrea, which he painted in 1526, Fir.. S7.— An Irea del Sart". St. Agues ami Lan.h. Cathedral. Pisa. ANDREA DEL SARTO 127 three years before he (herl. Lanzi says of tfie soldiers who besieged Florence in 1529, and who were destroying the monas- tery of San .Salvi, "after demolishing the belfry, the churcli, and part of the monastery, the\' were astonished on beholding this 'Last Supper,' and had no resolution to destroy it"; others say that it was due to .Michael Angelo that the fresco was preser\ed, as he had charge of fortifying Florence at the time. FiLi. 8S. — Andrea del Sarto. Last Supper. San Salvi. Florence. As one enters the door of the long hall opposite the painting one gains the best impression of the skill of the artist in placing the different groups, in arranging the drapery, in disposing the lights and shadows, and in the richness and softness of the color in the upper part of the fre.sco. There is lacking that intense feeling on the part of each disciple that is so marked a feature in Leonardo's "Last Supper" (Figs. 60 and 61); one feels that these men are not the high-bred men that are gatherefl at that table, yet there is a decorum and dignity about them that is in harmony with the occasion. Judas, the third on the Savior's left, is specially interesting. Of what is he thinking with his e}-es bent down and hands firmly clasped? CHAPTER XIV SOLARIIJ SODOMA CORHEOGIO VASARI says of Andrea Solario, who was born at Solario near Venice about 1460, he was "a ver)' excellent and l^eautiful painter, and attached to the labors of the art." His "Portrait of a Venetian Senator" (Fig. 89), in the National ■■■ J ^..^ 1 '''-,: ;.: ^ i ■'^^■:/:,..;, \ ^ ■;:£:.;■#■■:■• Mn^ ^msr '*^. ■■%' ' Sfc. ^ Fig. 89. — Solario. A Venetian Senator. National Gallery, London. Gallery, London, shows most careful workmanship in its Flemish-like handling of surface and detail. As Solario visited Venice in 1490 he probably came under the influence of An- tonello da ^lessina, who, j'ou may remember, was said to have introduced the "Van Eyck oil medium" and the Flemish 12,S SOLARIO— riUDUilA 129 method of portrait painting into ^'enice. It is interesting to compare this portrait with Messina's "Portrait of an Unknown ^lan" (Fig. 4.3), and note the remarkaJjle largeness of st,vle and fineness of finish in the work of laoth. In each case the char- acter of the sitter is lirought out with wonderful keenness of perception in analyzing humanity. Some authorities assert that both ^lessina and Solai'io ^■isited Flanders during their art career and thus gainetl their knowledge of Flemish methotls first hand. Certain]}- the handling of this portrait equals the Flemish artists in texture, with an added charm from the warm, rich colors of the ^'enetians. Solario was in Venice from 1490 to 149.3, the time this portrait was probably painted. He, no doubt, came under the influence of Leonardo da Mnci, but the spell of the enchantress — Venice — was so strong upon him that he added to his skill in modeling, gained from the former, the breadth and color of the latter. Probabh' one of the best of Leonardo's pupils was Giovanni Antonio Bazzi, a man of genius, and too strong in his own individuality to be overpowered by the greater master. Al- though not born in Siena, his life and methods are so closeh' associated with that little hill town that he is looked upon as a Sienese artist. Tlie name, II Sodoma, by which he was more commonly known, was a famih' name, and was given him as a nickname; this was a very common custom all over Italy. The date of Sodoma's birth was between 1473 and 1479, and he probably came under the influence of Leonardo in Milan in his early life, as he was a Loml^ard by birth. He belonged to the great Renaissance movement that characterized the last of this centurv and the fii'st of the next, but he was not one of the great artists. He was a man well endo^^'ed b}' nature, and at times produced works equal to the greatest, but unfortunately he loved a gay life better than he lo^-ed his art, and was gi^•en to idleness and folly rather than industry and sobriety. He is studied best at Siena, where are most of his frescos — the work he usually excelled in. Sodoma will always be remembered by the splendid specimen of his art in the LTfJizj^ Florence — "St. Sebastian" (Fig. 90). This picture was originally intended as a standard or banner 130 ITALIAN PAINTING to be carried through the streets at the head of a procession in times of pestilence. No saint in the calendar of the Roman Church has been painted more often than St. Sebastian, and jffP^ll -^^-:l- fe' J"'i[^<^^ f 1^ V-^^'ft'^J^ ':' J Fro. 90. — IL .Sodoma. St. Sebastian. Uffizi. Florence. never more beautifully depicted than in this painting of II Sodoniti. A nol)le, classical figure, suffering just enough to mark the martyred saint, but not enough to mar the physical beauty of the noble youth. The classical spirit is still further enhanced bv the old ruins in the backiiround, while the won- SUDOMA— CORREGGIO 131 ilerful beaut}' of the kindscape setting is a choice bit of nature study of rare excellence. Possibly no saint has a more authenticated history than St. Sebastian. He was born of a noble family a.d. 288. While a fa\'orite guard of the Emperor Diocletian, he secretly became a Christian and a devout promoter of the Christian faith. Many were converted bv his teachuigs. One day two of his converts were to be executed, and he, regardless of his own safety, rushed to them, exhorting and comforting them to the end. Now Sebastian's own time had come, iDut the emperor loved the young man and secretly tried to win him from the new faith; not succeeding, he became furious and ordered that Sebastian he put to death by being shot with arrows. He was left as dead, and his friends came at night to carry the body to a place of safety. To their joy they found him still alive. When Diocletian learned that he was ali\'e he was doubl}' infuriated and ordered him beaten to death and his hod}- cast into the Cloaca jMaxima (;i deep aqueduct), where it would disappear in the water. It was found, ho\\-e\'er, l)y his faithful friends, and taken to the Catacombs for burial. Among the heathen the arrow was the emlilem of pestilence, so, evev since Sebastian's martyrdom, he has been the saint who could allay a pestilence. Sodoma went to Rome, where he was capti^-ated with Raphael and his work. His portrait is next to Raphael's in the latter's "School of Athens." While in Rome Sodoma painted some of the frescos in the Axilla Farnesina, where Raphael and Piombo l^oth worked. He was knighted by Pope JjBO X., which good fortune seemed to turn his head, for what he gained by industry and rich, influential patrons, he soon lost b)' extravagance and dissipation. The last of his life was spent in distress and want, and he finally died in the Siena town hospital, a poor, old, worn-out man. The life and artistic training of Antonio Allegri are shrouded in mystery. He is placed among artists of the High Renaissance, as it is fairly certain that he was born in 1494. His native place was the little town of Correggio, near ilodena, from which town he took his artist name. Except for some early training la^ ITALIAX PAl.XTIXG under his uncle in a local school and a slight indication of Fei-i'ara influence, Correggio belonged to no school of art. Critics at different times have placed him under obligation to Mantegna, Leonardo da Mnci,^lichael Angelo, Kaphael, Francia, -Melozzo da Forli, Romano — artists varying widelj' in time, place, and manner; none of whom Correggio ever saw, and there is no positive proof that he even knew their works. He is often classed among the seven or eight great aitists of the world, and some authorities even give him so great honor as to place him with the three greatest— Leonardo da Vinci, ^Michael Angelo, and Ra- phael. Fig. 91. — Correggio. Marriage of St. Catherine. Louvre, Paris. Correggio cer- tainly does not merit such an ex- travagant estimate of his artistic stand- ing. The one thing that he did excel i n w as jo }• — t h e joy of merely be- ing alive. The one character in fiction that more nearly corresponds to the people he portrayed is Donatello, in the " ^larble Faun." Hawthorne's description of the faun-like vouth before sin opened the eyes of his moral understanding, gives a true likeness of Correggio's characters, whether saints or sinners. His pictures are mostlj' of religious subjects, but with little spiritual significance about them. They all have a peculiar beauty that is individual and characteristic of the artist — in fact an individuality so pro- nounced that his countrymen have named it " Correggiesque." In the Ijouvre, Paris, is one of the most beautiful of his religious paintings — "The .Marriage of St. Catherine and CURREGGIO 133 Christ" (Fig. 91). Tlie legend of St. Catherine of Alexandria, so popular with artists, was never enveloped with a greater charm of loveliness than Correggio has gi^-en it. Catherine, the maiden C^ueen of Egypt, says the legend, was dissatisfied with her numerous lovers. One night she (beamed that the Mi'gin appeared to her with the Divine Child. She at once recognized him as her chosen Ijridegroom, but, to her sorrow, the Child turned awa}' from her. She sought a Christian hermit and through him was converted to Christ. Again she dreamed that the Virgin appeared with the Divine Child and that He placed the marriage ring on her finger; she awoke with a sense of joy, and there on her finger was the ring. The whole picture is filled witii a sense of joy most harmonious to the subject. Even St. Christopher, who is the witness of the nuptial, tj'pifies the god of love more than tlie martyred saint. No artist understood the poetry of light and shadow better than this simple, child-like man. To him nature had no hidden meaning; he saw her and loved her and put his whole soul into transferring her sensuous beauty to canvas. Tradition sa3's that he covered his canvas with gold before beginning his picture, that the landscape setting might sparkle and glisten with that golden-green luster so noticealjle in many of his pictures. There is a fascination in his A\onderful display of color equal to that of the rainbow tints: he never startles, but soothes, as the ripple of the little stream o\-er the pebbles soothes the tired mind. He awakens no passion; inspires no intense longing; gives no intellectual stimulus, for with him to to be ali^•e is joy enough. Correggio has gi^■en no better example of his originality in the handling of light and shade than in his "Holy Night" (Fig. 92), in the Dresden Gallery. He has vividly reproduced the scene of the Savior's birth as described in the Apocryphal Go.spel, "The Protevangelion," in the following words: "But on a sudden the cloud became a great light in the ca^-e, so that their eyes could not bear it. But the liglrt gradually decreased, until the Infant appeared." The light is so brilliant as it ema- nates from the Holy Child that it is most natural for the woman to shade her face with her hand. There is such perfect sym- 134 ITALIAN PAI.XTIXG patliy between the attitude of the spectators of this glorious scene and the artist's manner of bringing his hght to bear on them, that we scarcely notice the ingenuity of the handling I^HBESMHHH |^KaBB,JH *' / if ^k^^ ^i 4^-~ -f^iy ^P-^ t^^yiP ^Hf'P^**'^*T :s ■■ *> Igj^^^H ^J^ . %i'i MV^ ' V^s '^ * •■!- ' " ■%\* ■f "^^^ K*" • ^*^''^KK^^^^^^ v, fe* ■■•■ *^ - ■ W ^|# W ,a,,.' * Fn;. 92. — C'lrreggii yinly Night. Dresden CJallerj-. — that great central light with its strongest rays on the face of the Virgin and then lighting the faces of the first worshipers, who liaA-c come from tending the shee]3 on the hill side; the CORREGGIO 135 .4*^^ lesser light coming from the angels above, and the faint moin- ing light appearing just above the hill tops in the distance. The soft golden glow which covers the stones and plants, against the dark, rich blue and crimson of Clary's mantle and robe, is very beautiful with the somber setting of the back- ground. The figure of the dog, so interested in the strange scene, is in perfect keeping with the surroundings; in fact the artist has made us feel that there would be something lacking if he were not there. Not until Rembi-andt's time has any artist used this daring scheme of lighting his picture, and then the problem was in the hands of a man great enough to overcome every dif- ficulty in arbitraril)- placing his light. In the same gallery with the "Holy Night" is the "Reading ^lag- dalene" (Fig. 93), for so many j-ears ascribed to Correg- gio. Some con- nois.seurs have even pronounced it his greatest masterpiece, and so great an authority as the artist Anton Raphael Mengs says, "Correggio's other pictures are excellent but this one is wonderful." Critics to-day assert that this painting is not by Correggio, whoe^-er the artist may be. The picture is painted on copper, and j\Jorelli says no artist painted on copper before the end of the sixteenth century. It has been put down to Adriaan van der Werff, a Dutch artist of the eighteenth century. The smooth enamel-like finish of the painting accords better with the Flemish workmanship of a much later date than of the Italian of Correggio's time. The "Reading ^lagdalene" has been one of the most popular pictures with the lay public that has ever Ijeen painted, Fnj. 93. — Corregglut?). The Reading Magdalene Dresden (,Jallery. CHAPTER XV VOLTERRA — A'ASARI — BAKOCCIO DANIELE DA VOLTERRA (1509-1566) was probably the most successful follower of Michael Angelo. He recognized the distinctive qualities that marked the great mas- ter — which qualities were usually carried to the verge of excess without ever overstepping the bounds one hair's breadth — but, unfortunately, when he tried to make those same qualities his own he fell to the level of a mere imitator. The poses that were grand and sublime from the master's biiish became com- monplace and artificial from his. Undoubtedly Michael Angelo must have looked upon Volterra's work with some favor, for certainly Volterra would not have undertaken the task of draping the nude figures in the "Last Judgment," had he not had the sanction of the master. When Pope Paul IV. approached ^Michael Angelo in regard to the draping, his sar- castic answer was most characteristic — "That is soon done," said the great artist. "The pope has to put the world in order; it is but little trouble as regards pictures, for they keep still." Volterra was ever after spoken of in terms of derision as "the breeches-maker." This must have been a great grief to him, for he loved ifichael Angelo, and when the master was dying in his loneliness, he went to him and cared for him to the end. \'olterra's masterpiece, "The Descent from the Cross" (Fig. 94), in the Church of Trinita de' Monti, Rome, was considered In- Poussin as one of the three great pictures of the world, and Lanzi classed it among the finest pictures in Rome. iSome authorities believe that ^lichael Angelo designeti the picture, but others are of the opinion that \'olterra's other works prove that such assistance was by no means necessary. The fresco is an altar-piece, but in such a poor light that it is almost impos- siljle to get a just idea of it, and then to add to its misfortune 13(i VOLTERRA— VASAKI 137 the restorer has had his hanrls on it. In spite of these draw- baclvs it is a wonderful painting. The relaxation of recent death in the body of the Savior is particularly well represented. The pallor of the dead body compared with the healthy fiesli of men who are so tenderly lowering it is skillfully handletl. The swooning figure of the Virgin in the foreground is nat- ural and full of pa- thos. In comparing it w i t h Rubens' "Descent from the Cross" (Fig. 180), in the Antwerp cathe- dral, we feel a lack of that exuberance of life that was so characteristic of the Flemish artist, and the modeling seems hard and formal. \'asari is one of those menwhOjinhis desire to do every- thing, failed to do well even the work nature had amply fitted him to do. But we owe a great debt to this man for what he has written of the artists of his time, exen if his history- is full of errors and extravagant statements. As an artist he was simply a superficial imitator of .Michael Angelo. Lanzi says. "Had all his works perished but some of these in the old pal- ace, . . . his reputation would have been much greater." Giorgio Vasari was born in 1511 at Arezzo. He studied under Signorelli, Michael Angelo, and Andrea del Sarto. Besides being a painter he was an architect of considerable ability. 'r ^'^ '^m^^- M mSm-^ * -S ■*•'- <'■ ^ ■/■■ Fig. 94. — Volterra. De.'^cent frnm the Crc Church of Trinita fie' Monti. Rome. 138 ITALIAX PAINTING He designed part of the Uffizi Palace, Florence, and also the upper part of the Cjuaint old bridge connecting the two palaces — the Uffizi and Pitti. Most of Vasari's paintings were on a large scale — decorations for palaces and convents, in which he was cold and formal in composition and false in modeling. He painted but few easel pictures, l^ut among them were some admirable portraits, especially the "Portrait of Lorenzo de' ^ledici" (Fig. 95), in the Uffizi Gallery, Florence. He has made the personality of Lorenzo the Magnificent, as he M'as called, so much of a reality that having once seen the por- trait one cannot forget the man. In compliment to the Medicis he has given objects in his accessories that are symbolic of the numerous and varied professions that have marked their great- ness. The day of grand achievements was past in Middle and Southern Italy. Florence and Rome had reached their zenith. The men of great minds, big with glorious possibilities, had come and gone. No country had ever been so enriched by the hand of man — churches, palaces, and public buildings had sprung up as by magic and their walls and ceilings were covered with scenes so beautiful and so entrancing that it seems impossible that the mind of man could conceive such wonders. AVhat an inherit- ance to leave to posterity! And what did the immediate inheritors of all this wealth do to pro^'e themselves worthy of the inheritance? They imitated, exaggerated, affected, became sentimental and superficial, prosaic and common- place. The term " ilannerists " was well chosen for the men who followed in the wake of the trulv great. Once in a Fig. 95. — Vasari. Medici. Portrait of Lorenzo de' Ufiizi, Florence. BAROCCIO 139 while there would come a man who was strong enough to rise above the medioerit}' of those around him and assert his own individualit}'. iSuch a man was Federigo Baroccio (1528-1612). He was born in Urbino, but was classed with the Roman school. Very early in his life he went to Rome, and was so struck with Alichael Angelo's style that, it is said, he copied everything — his paintings, drawings, and statues, both in Rome Fig. 96. — Baroccio. The .\nnunciatioa. Uffizi, Florence. and Florence. Later he adopted the manner of Raphael and then Correggio, but as his own style matured he became more than an imitator. He was a man with an earnest desire to excel, and spared no jjains to perfect himself in every branch of his art. He was a master of cliiaroscuro (light and shade), and Lanzi says that he was the first artist to introduce it into Lower Italj^ In order to master the effect of chiai'oscuro he modeled figures in a plastic material and studied the expression of every position, keeping ever before him truthfulness to 140 ITALIAN PAIXTIXG nature as a standard. Before beginning a picture he would design his composition, then make a cartoon the size of the intended painting, and try tire arrangement of his colors. Then L)efore putting his colors on the canvas he very carefull}' ar- ranged his light and shade. Summing up, one has said; "Per- fection was his aim in every picture, a maxim which insures excellence to artists of genius." As Baroccio was not a genius his pictures were not excellent compared with pictures of the great geniuses. He was great enough, however, to arouse the jealous}^ of the artists around him, so that an attempt was made to take his hfe by poison, given him while at a l^anquet where he was the invited guest. It was four years before he was able to take up his brush again. Nearly all of Baroccio's pictures were of religious suljjects, and among them his "Annunciations" were specially beautiful. The one in the Uffizi, Florence (Fig. 96), is a good example of the general character of his work. The sentimentality of pose and the insipid prettiness of the faces are redeemed by the beautiful brush work, delicate coloring, and the earnest purpose of the picture. The bit of landscape seen through the window under the half-drawn curtain is a touch that, with the realism of pus.s}' in the foreground, marlcs Baroccio as a man of some power. Rome seems to have been the headquarters for the manner- ist imitators of Michael Angelo, Raphael, and Correggio. The despotic sway of the later Medicis stopped all art progress in Florence, so that a rajDid decline was inevitable. VENETIAN PAINTING Fir,. \04. — Titian. The Assumption. Academy. Venice. See page 153. CHAPTER XVI GIORGIONE — TITIAN WHILE we were following the careers of those grand men in Southern Italy it hardly seems possible that men equally great were living and working in Venice, the queen city of the north. Was ever country so blest with the advent of human geniuses as Italy during the last quarter of the fifteenth century? We pause with reverence and awe to wonder what chemical reagents were brought together in God's laboratory to bring forth such marvelous results in quantity and quality of human species. We stood with uncovered heads before J\Iichael Angelo, Leonardo da Vinci, Raphael, and Correggio, and now we turn to Venice and find Giorgione and Titian claiming equal honor. The Renaissance movement, begun by the early men and advanced to such grand proportion by Giovanni Bellini, was ripe for these two young giants. They were about the same age, probably born in 1477, came to Venice when ten years old, and entered Bellini's studio at nearlj^ the same time. Giorgione came from the httle city of the plains — Castelfranco; Titian from the rugged hill town of Cadore — two spots as unlike one another as could well be in Italy. Giorgione might be called the first real nature artist — loving her for her own sake. He had the courage to strip his figure pieces of almost all accessories of an architectural nature and set them in a landscape pure and simple. He added to the charm of human grace and natural jo}^ by flooding the green meadows and thick woodlands with golden sunlight. One of his best examples of the combination of the purely religious subject with humanitj^ through the natural world, and yet awakening a perfect sympathy in each, is his very 143 14-t VENETIAN PAINTING earliest and most authentic work in existence— " The Madonna of Castelfranco " (Fig. 97). In the downcast eyes and expres- sion of hoh' joy of the :\Iadonna are combined the timidity of the maiden's first thoughts of motherhood and the Virgin's thoughts of the Holy Child. Giorgione painted this ahar-piece as a memorial to young Costanzo, who died in 1504, and tradition says that the knight in armor on the left — the warrior saint, Liberalis — is a portrait of the young man. This painting is the glorj- of the cathedral; in fact it is to worship at this shrine that tourists visit the dilapidated old town of Castelfranco. Whether that sweet, gentle iladonna was the artist's own lady- love matters little so long as he has united in that simple figure all the attributes of a Holy ^Mother of whom Eliza- beth of old said: "Bless- ed art thou among women." Ciiorgione has stepped aside from the beaten path in many particulars in this altar- piece. Instead of the usual blue the j\Iadonna has a robe of rich green with red drapery set against a gorgeous tapestry where green is the prevailing color. The warm, delicate flesh tints of the hahy .lesus contrast harmoniouslv with these glowing colors. Below the ^ladonna and Child are the dark red screen and pedestal of warm, grayish-white and purplish marble, which form a charming background for the shining armor of the warrior saint and the grav robe of St. Francis. Fig. 97. — Giorgione. Jladonna of Castelfranco. Parish Cfiurch, Castelfranco. Italy- GIORGIOXE 145 The delightful bit of landscape stretching off in the distance seems to fill the whole picture with its own atmos]:>liere of peace and joy. There is very little known of the personal history of Giorgione except that he was a pupil with Titian in Bellini's studio, and that he died young. Even the few pictures we have from his Fk;. 98. — (liorgione. Knight of Malta. Uffizi Florence. brush have gone through a storm of criticism as to their lieing genuine Giorgiones, with the one exception — the ^Jadonna altar-piece at Castelfranco. The fact is known that he eove)-ed his own house with frescos and also worked with Titian in adorning the exterior of a Ijuilding bielonging to tlie German merchants — both in ^'enice — but these frescos have almost disappeared. The "Knight of .Malta" (Fig. 9S), in tlie Uffizi, Florence, is considered bv most modern critics as a semiine \\"ork of (.'cior- 14(3 VENETIAN PAINTING gione. As a portrait there could hardly be anything finer or more characteristic of the Venetian school. The picture is life size and painted on canvas in oil, a medium that was brought to \^enice by Antonello da Messina. Mr. Cole in his notes f)n his engraving of "The Knight" says: "No artist knows l)etter than Giorgione how to captivate the mind and to hold the imagination with so few means." The Kniglit is dressed in heavy black silk and the cross of Malta glows brilliantly against the rich black. The rich low tones of the chestnut-brown hair, the ribbon for the medal, and Fig. 99. — Giorgione. The Concert. Pitti Palace. Florence. the olive-wood beads, intensify and vivify the flesh tints of the face and hand and the white of the chemisette. There is a richness and softness in the blending of these strongly con- trasted colors that only a master hand could have made so entirely satisfactory. Another work, "The Concert" (Fig. 99), in the Pitti Palace, Florence, critics pronounce authentic and a masterpiece of the artist. The figures in this picture have been looked upon as portraits of Calvin on the right, Luther in the middle, and .Melanchthon on the left, but as Giorgione died when Calvin was only two years old, this interpretation cannot be true if the picture is a genuine Giorgione. Never mind whether that GIORGIONE— TITIAN 147 central figure is Luther or simply an Augustine monk; we do know that he was an aristocrat from the tip of those delicate fingers that grasp the keys so firmly to the clear-cut features and proudly set head. The whole pose of that man bi-eathes forth high thinking and moral living, yet shows the keenest sympathy with poor, erring humanity, ft is no wonder that Giorgione was placed by his contemporaries among painters of the first rank after making such a powerful picture as "The Concert." Giorgione (Big George), as his name indicated, was noted not only for his large body, but for the bigness of his mind and the versatility of his talents. He entered fully into the gay life of Venice and was heartily welcomed because of his genuine love for his fellow man. He died of the plague at thirty-four, leaving humanity his debtor for all time. Titian was a man who seemed to grow with the growth of human thought. One might say of him that "he absorbed his predecessors and ruined his successors." He was endowed with a rare faculty that enabled him to take to himself the particular qualities that marked the greatness of other artists in special lines, and to so incorporate them with his own powers, that he reached a degree of perfection unknown before. There have been, and were, greater artists in form, finish, breadth, and elegance, but Titian united all cjualities of technic with a personality that made him one of the greatest, if not the greatest artist of the world. "II divine Titiano!" During the ninety-nine years of the life of Titiano Vecelli (1477-1576), there transpired some of the greatest events in history — events which have revolutionized mankind. The year he was born Caxton's first book was printed in England. When Titian was fifteen Columbus discovered America. An- other quarter of a century had hardly passed when Charles Y., already King of Spain and her new colonies, was crowned, at Aix-la-Chapelle, emperor over the fairest countries of Europe. Then followed the Reformation with Luther as its leader, which resulted in the "Diet of Worms" and the "Council of Trent." When the hundred years were nearly completed there came that great upheaval in the Netherlands which placed the Prince of 14:8 VENETIAN PAINTING Orange — William the Silent — on the throne, and sent the Spaniards about their own business. Living in such eventful times, it is not surprising that Titian gave us an art that combined truths of a universal nature. His early life in the hill town of Cadore gave him that intimate knowledge of nature, in her different moods, that can be gained in childhood only. The contrast between the ruggedness of his native town and the soft voluptuousness of beautiful Venice must have made a deep impression on the sensitive mind of the boy-artist, and brought more vividh' to him the scenes of childhood. In later life he used these familiar landscapes as a mere setting for his figure pieces, yet these backgrounds were true landscape paintings, which were not surpassed until nearly a half century later, when the French artist Claude Lorrain arose. Possibly after leaving Bellini's studio Titian may have been influenced by his companion, Giorgione, wliose talents were ]Derfected at such an early age. They ma}- have been partners for a time and without doubt worked together on the external i.lecoration of the Fondaco de' Tedeschi, the German Go^•ern- ment building on the Grand Canal near the Rialto. There is nothing left of the.se paintings to-day except a patch of color. The artist who seems to have made the greatest impression on Titian in his early years was Albrecht Diirer, who came to Venice after Giorgione died. Diirer had tlie German hair- splitting precision that is so marked a trait of that nation. He painted in such detail that the wea^'e of the cloth and the pores of the skin could easily be seen. If he was lacking in the glori- ous coloring of the Venetians his perfect finish pro^■ed to those artists that finish must be added to color to produce a perfect work of art. Titian recognized, however, Diirer's excessive ''finish," and, when taunted by some Germans who visited his studio, replied that finish was not the end and aim of art. But to show Diirer that he, too, could count each hair and separate each thread, he painted his famous "Tribute ^ioney " (l^'ig. 100) , that is one of the gems of the Dresden Gallery to-day. For four centuries this picture has recei^•ed the highest praise as an exaniiilc of the combination of jierfect finish and TITIAX 149 Ijroad handling, thus producing a comprisiiion both detailed and free. Titian could hardi}' have contrasted two men with wider differences than he has in this painting. The Pharisee, with his face full of that low cunning, characteristic of his 100. — 'ritiaii. The Tribute Money. Dresden Gallery. calling, is so eager in his anxiety to find something to condemn that he leans toward the Savior, holding out the penny in his coarse, vulgar hand. The Christ with sublime dignity and repose points to the coin, saying: "Whose is this image and superscription?" The look and voice compel the crafty Jew 150 VEXETIAX PAINTING to answer, "Csesar's.'' One can almost imagine that the ex- pression of low satisfaction on the face of the Pharisee is chang- ing to chagrin as the Savior answers: "Render therefore unto Fig. 101. — Titian. Portrait of Himself. Berlin Gallery. Cajsar the things that are Caesar's; and unto God the things that are God's." Could anything be more impressive than the pale, beautiful face of Christ with its setting of red-brown hair TITIAN 151 — hair so delicately painted that a breath would lift the curl from the neck? There is a fullness and breadth in the hand- ling of the drapery that intensify the simplicity of the garments and add strength to the heads and hands. In the "Tribute .Money" Titian seems to have given his only example showing any influence that Durer may have made upon him. In the Berlin Gallery is a "Portrait of Titian" (Fig. 101), painted by himself in 1.542, when he was sixty-five years old. The broad, .swift strokes on the changeable crimson doublet, shimmery damask sleeves, and rich brown of pelisse and fur collar have the strength of a master's hand that requires no finish to pro\'e its skill. How wonderfully modeled is that face, and \vhat strength of character in every line! It is not surprising that kings and princes strove to honor such a man! Neither is it strange that even Charles V., a man who "was as false as water," should have again and again sought the companionship of this king of painters. That Titian understood the A'arious moods of his royal friend and patron is very evi- dent in the numerous portraits that he made of him. In none of them has he given a truer index to his character than in the one at Munich (Fig. 102). How truly that Austrian lip and chin mark the stubborn f|uality that ]3re- vented this man from seeing, until it was too late, the great religious importance of the Reformation which he was opposing on political grounds! ^lotley sa^'s of him: "He believed in nothing, save that, when the course of the imperial will was impeded, and the interests of his imperial house in jeopardy, pontiffs were to succumb as well as Anabaptists." Titian's manner of painting was broad and full, and his colorings superb. He was never extravagant in handling his subjects, but always dignified and stateh'. He was a man of the world, with that keen insight into human character that enabled him, with his complete master}- of art, to show by pose and expression the workings of the human soul. He moA'ed Fig. 102.— Titian. Por- trait of Charles V. Pinakothek, Munich. U,-2 VENETIAN PAINTING among the men and women of nol^ility and studied life from the palace and the council chamber. His days were filled with the good things of this world. He was honored by kings and sought after by noblemen. Church and State, both in his own country- and abroad, sent for him to paint their portraits and decorate their buildings. .Many are the stories told of his friendship with Charles V., and how that emperor showed him marked attention; even at times humiliating his own nobles to do the artist honor, saying: "There are many princes, but there is only one Titian;" and again, "I have many nol^les, but one Titian." One day the emperor went so far as to pick up the artist's brush, remarking Fil;. 103. — Titian. Fre.sentation in tiie Temple. AcaLlem>-, Venice. as he did so: " It becomes Ctesar to serve Titian." The artist's court life was both brilliant and profitable. In fact, one of the mars on the otherwise almost perfect character of Titian was his excessive love of money and favor. He was willing to fawn and even humiliate himself to gain position and \^orldly riches. Proljably there is no picture in which Titian has mingled so much thought and feeling, brush work, technical skill, and color secret as in "The Presentation in the Temple" (Fig. 103), in the Academy, \'enice. Although it is a religious subject, yet it is not a religious picture in the true sense. The wall space that it covers is peculiarly well fitted for it. Parallel with the ]5a,inted steps are real steps leading into the room TITIAN 153 where the picture is, so on entering and seeing the ciiild coming up the steps there is a feehng of having just come from the temple to which the little Virgin ilary is going. The landscape in the background is one of his choice bits of idealized Cadore scenery. The soft, fleecy clouds mellow the rugged mountain tops and spread a warm glow over the entire scene. The architecture is Venetian and the people are Venetians, but there is perfect harmony between the subject and the settings so far as the arrangement of the composition is concerned. There is also complete decorum among the company gathered to see the public consecratioii of the little Virgin, even to the dog and little child in the middle foreground. Some of the natural touches are almost amusing — as the old woman with her basket of eggs. But the absorbing interest she takes in the scene makes it seem perfectly natural that she should sit there to rest. The wondei'ful secret of color, and treatment in detail, are perfect in this picture. One of the marked characteristics of Titian's skill as an artist was his ability to cover up all show of effort in bringing about the desired results. That he was a painstaking, laborious worker is \'ery evident from the care he displayed in preparing his canva.ses for his final touches, which were put on with his finger, thus covering all marks of his brush work. His most perfect example of elaborate and careful workmanship, result- ing in a painting of the greatest apparent simplicity, is "The Assumption of the A'irgin" (Fig. 104), Academy, Venice. Look at the consummate skill with which he draws atten- tion to the central figure — the Mrgin. Beginning with the apostles, with uplifted hands and faces, one instinctively fol- lows their gaze, being only half conscious of the wonderful dispkiv' of human emotions on the faces of those strong men. Then look at the circle of angel children — so human in their earthly beauty that one longs to smother them with kisses — as they point with face and gesture to the heavenly cjueen. Even the Father in the sky above bends His gaze on her up- turned face. What marvelous foreshortening to bring that multitude of figures into poses so natural and so simple! And then, above everything else, are the glorious coloring and subtle 154 VENETIAN PAINTING Ijlending of light and shade in this masterpiece. Hanging, as it does, opposite the folding doors at the end of the long entrance room to the gallery, on entering one is thrilled with rapture and feels that the scene must be a reality in its vividness and forcefulness. Titian continued to paint to the end of his long life — a life of almost one hundred years. While it is remarkable that his mental vigor and skill of hand remained so like the Titian of his zenith, yet it is pathetic to note the power with which old age held him and prevented him from again reaching that zenith. Our hearts are full of pity for the old man as he dies of the plague, alone and forsaken. But he is not forgotten, for so long as the art of painting lasts Titian will stand as the exponent of color — color so wonderful that one stands spell- Ijound before his works. CHAPTER XVII LORENZO LOTTO — PAL1L\ VECCHII3 — MORETTO — MORONI THERE were two artists, three years younger than Gior- gione and Titian — Lorenzo Lotto and Palnia Vecchio — - who were, until within a few years, alwaj's spoken of as natives of the same town and as great personal friends. The latter statement is true, but Lotto was Ijorn in \'enice and Palma at Serino. They came into the world the same year — 1480; both were bachelors all their lives, both came under the influence of (liorgione and Titian, and both were men of strong personality. Lorenzo Lotto was probably a pupil of Alvise \'ivarini, but he shows the influence of many of those earlier artists. AMiile still a young man he spent four years in Rome, wliere he came in contact with Raphael, as is seen in many of his works. As his art became more mature, however, there was a stronger note of personal independence in it. This was specially marked in his portraits, where he manifests a tendenc}' toward psy- cliological researcli. Lotto was a man of a deep religious nature and one who never swerved a haii''s breadth fronr his himest convictions of what he thought was right. Aretino, the life- long friend of Titian, wrote of him, "O Lotto, good as good- ness, and virtuous as virtue itself!" Lotto excelled as a painter of ]3ortraits, and in them slrowed his keen insight into character. He felt deeply the immorality of the sixteenth century, and, choosing his sitters from among the ^-irtuous men and women, he de]iicted in theii' faces a long- ing for better times. All of the portraits seem to tell a life his- tory, a history possibly a little too sad, but he may have "read into them a little of his own morljid self-consciousness and re- ligious aspirations." Except his j^ortraits, he painted religious pictures almost exclusively. He wandered over the country, 1.55 15G VEXETIAX PAIXTIXG leu,ving specimens of his work in church and convent, from ^lilan to Rome. In these wanderings he may have been asso- ciated with some of the reformers of his day. His interpreta- tion of the Bible stories indicates a profound thoughtfulness of the religious truths as laid down by the old prophets, and the apostles of the early church, a return to which was being taught by the reformers of that time. Then, too, in one of his note- books he states that he has just finished portraits of Luther ^ ^ ^^^' ^*... m^ Fig. 105. — Lorenzo Lotto. The Three Ages of Man. Pitti Palace, Florence. antl his wife. It is just possible that he knew that sturdy preacher in the days of his crusade against "indulgences." In the Pitti Palace, Florence, is Lotto's "Three Ages of .Man" (Fig. 105). While, as many critics say, this picture is much like Giorgione's work, Lotto has preserved his own individuality in his manner of iDringing out the inner life of these three. How plainly the heedlessness of boyhood is brought out in the face of the boy! He only half hears the instruction of the older man; his eyes are on the music, but his thoughts are with his playmates. The young man is thinking deeper thoughts than the simple lesson in music; life to him is opening out into a future of great possiliilities, but filled with LORENZO LOTTO 157 serious problems; while the old man show, the scars of many battles, but battles won; he is still looking out on life with the steady eye of the veteran who is ready to "fight the good fight. " This old man lived, and as he looks at us so keenly he has no thought of posing for his portrait, but he is busy with his own estimate of oiir character. His cardinal gown, so soft and rich in its color-note, is most appropriate for tliis old war-horse, and then how beautifully it harmonizes with the purplish maroon of the boy's dress, and the scarlet of his scarf, and how the black cap and soft Ijlack hair of the child are emphasized against the white beard and bronzed fiesh of age. Could any one show greater skill in blending the rich brown of the young man's hair into the deeper l)rown of the background'? How the golden tint of the hair is brought out by the tender green of his sack, and liow the flesh of the hand glows with hetdth against nature's favorite color! How empty the picture would be Avithout that hand — what a tale of latent strength it unfolds! The wonderful harmony of this picture seems to enter one's soul and later "... fla.sh upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude." Lotto never liad a home of his own, but made his abiding place in the convents of the Dominican Order, and chose his intimate friends from among the monks. He lived in the Con- vent of San Ctiovanni e Paolo when in Venice and there he hoped to end his days; Ijut two years before his death (L556) he went to the beautiful little town of Loreto, and there entered the Holy House, where he lived cjuietly and happily to the end. No artist was more patronized by the fashionable women of Venice than Palma Vecchio. He alone held the secret of ]Dutting on canvas dark aul^urn and chestnut-brown hair with its surface glitter reflecting the light rays as virgin gold, set against an ivory-white skin that fairly sparkled in its dazzling wl"iiteness, which were syml)ols of beauty among the women in high life. At that time the arts of the feminine toilet included a special treatment of the hair with a wash that gave a tint as vellow as gold. In no line of work did Palma show 158 VEXETIAX PAINTING his mastery of the painter's art more fully than in his portrai- ture of women. He knew, to the smallest detail, every device used to heighten the effect of fold, puff, and ornament, and, witli consummate skill, ga\e full value, not only to these minutiis, but to the texture of the satin and brocade draperies as well; then, too, the happy way he had of placing his figures with a smilmg landscape as a background gave an added charm. Palma was born in a little country town in the Bergamask district not far from ^'enice — his city home for most of his life; l3ut he ne\er entirely lost a certain bourgeois manner that came from his peasant origin. This inheritance is evident in tire great simplicity of many of his pictures, and the peasant type of his men and women so often seen in his Santa Conver- sazione compositions — pic - tures of the Holy Family surrounded by a p i c n i c group of \'enetian merry- makers — one of P alma's special inventions The ^'enetian artillerists recpiested Palma to paint an altar- piece for their chapel in the Church of Santa ^laria Formosa; in granting their rec|uest he gave to the world one of its master- pieces — "St. I^arbara" (Fig. 106), This saint is the patroness of soldiers, and is always represented with a tower near her and a palm in her hand as symljols of her life and martyrdom. Fig. 106. — Palma Vecchio St. Barbara. Church of Santa Maria Formosa, Venice. PALMA VEGCHK) 159 Certainly the intluence of such a saint — so instinct with strengtli and victory — ouglit to inspire soldiers with courage and patriot- ism. Her calm, dignified attitude as she stands framed in that simple archway, looking out on the battlefield of life, would give him a sense of triumph over every difficulty; if only she is on his side he will conquer. Palma knew just how to clothe that nol^le figure with the soft brown undergarment and the rich red mantle held so lighth' and gracefully over arm and knee, so as to enhance the sweet serenit}' of the pure woman; and yet, by placing the crown on the golden hair and the white scarf knotted at the side and brought across the glowing flesh of neck and shoulder, he has raised her to the place of a con- queror through faith. Palma was probably a pupil of Bellini, and never lost the effects of the lessons taught him by the master. He was also closely associated with Lorenzo Lotto, his warm friend. He brought into the sixteenth century the perfections of the fifteenth, and, adding to his work his own individuality, gave a solidity and depth to the art of painting that raised him to a place beside Giorgione and Titian. He may not have been an originator, as was the former artist, or an epoch-maker, as was the latter, but he interested the public and left the new field open, ready for his followers to cultivate and extend. He was, and still is, one of the most popular of ^'enetian painters, ^'erv little is known of Palma's personal life. He was only forty- eight when he died m L528, and was buried in the Church San Gregorio, \'enice. It is doubtful if we even have an authentic likeness of him, although the picture in the ^Munich Gallery is listed as a portrait of the artist — Palma Vecchio- Another artist who was l:iorn the last of the fifteenth cen- tury — 1498 — and came from Venetian territorj^ was Moretto of Brescia. He never went to Venice, although he ^\•as no doubt familiar with Titian's work and later with the composi- tions of Raphael. He was a man of originality, and was the first artist to give color that "silvery" qualitv' so peculiarly his own. His individuality comes out in his contrasting of light and shadow in both his figures and skies; his darker figures seem to spring from a clear, bright background, and the IGO VENETIAX PAIXTIXG In hi; into the emotions of his different colored clouds are made to offset each other, but it is done in such a simple and direct way that the manner of doing it is lost sight of in the results obtained. ]\loretto was equal to any Venetian artist in his perspectives, elegant proportions, and gorgeous draperies, handling each with such delicate power that his pictures speak to us with force and emphasis. He, in his portraits, has given so much of the life historv of the noble families of Brescia, that one wi.shes to know more of their doings and character. In this branch of his art he seems to step from the sixteenth century into modern times. sacred pictures ^Moretto has that sensitive insight characters that makes his people express the sentiments they repre- sent. This is specially seen in the "Supper in the House of Simon" (Fig. 107), Academy, "\'enice. The stern disapproval in the face of Simon, the benign sympathy of the Savior, the humiliation and grief in the attitude of the ;\Iagda- lene, and the wonder and astonish- ment in the face and posture of the servant, are all expressed in a dig- nified and masterly manner, but with a ring of true sin- cerity. Even if he has told his story well there is nothing lacking in the technic of the composition. The balance in the arrangement is admirable, the contrasts of light and shadow effective, the lighting good, and the color is that harmonious "silvery" quality that was so characteristically his own. Then, too, the rich stuff of the Pharisee's dress is differentiated to the smallest detail. When Moretto died in 15.5.5 he left one pupil, Giambatti.'ita ;\Ioroni (152.5-157S), of whose personal history very little is known, but who is known as a great portrait painter of "Men." It was not the nobility that attracted him, but the genus man — as a representative of the highest development regardless of time or place. These common])lace persons were given commonplace I'iG. 107. — Moretto. Supper in the House of Simon. Academy. Venice. MOH(-)XI 161 titles, as: ''Ecclesiastic," "Lawyer," "Tailor," etc.; laut what did it signify so long as the picture brought out the (juality "manhood"? In the portrait of "The Tailor" (Fig. lUS), ■^■■■MH^B^^^^^^^HHHp^^tVna^aHWHHVBL^A-. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^BuT" ^^^Bwf^^^^^^^^^B ^^H|^^^/ ^^^^^^ . ^Bl^ -^ 3 ^^^B 'i^H ■^B flMfl ^^m tj^l^ ' ."■o"'*^' '.|^^B ' ^^^^^H ^^B "^^BlfetaSz'^KiH^^^^K n^^^l ^^^^^^^^^^H Hl^3>^'^^^H ^^^^^^^iHk. ^ v^s^'^H^^^^Il^^^^^^^^^^^^l KKa,^S ^^^^Hk ■ "^^V^^^^^^^^^^ ^jHHlfl ^Bi Fig. 108. — .Moroni. Tlie Tailor \ \tiona] (iallery, London. Tagliapanni stands before us in all the dignity of a true noble- man. This painting, a gem of the National Gallery, London, is so fascinating in its lifelike attitude that one stands waiting 162 VEXETIAN PAINTING for the man to speak, feeling that he has stopped his work to answer some question that has been put to him. Somehow that man's personality fills the room; his influence would be felt in a crowd; whatever he would have to say would be worth hearing; that tailor has made his work — the work hasn't made him. He is not a man of high intellectual ability, but a man from the common walks of life, who has made the most of his "one talent." ^loroni excelled as a portrait painter; his pictures are looked upon as gems, breathing, as they do, the universal spirit of truth. CHAPTER XVIII TINTORETTO — PA( )L( ) \' KKONESE IF ever a man was possessed with the spirit of '\\ork it was Tintoretto. An undecorated wall space was a perfect inspiration to him. His mind began at once to teem with figures clamoring to be set free. It was of little consequence to him whether he was to be paid for his work or not, just so he was given the privilege of covering the vacant space and reliev- ing his burdened brain of the imprisoned picture. He would set to work with all the eagerness of a novice and work with such furor and impetuosit}' that the picture would be com- pleted in the time that most artists were making the first sketch. He was most appropriately called "II Furioso " by his companions, but their very just criticism on his too rapid way of w^orking was that "Tintoretto is often inferior to Tin- toretto." The real name of this artist was Jacopo Robusti (1.512 or 18-1.594); his nickname Tintoretto came from the fact that his father was a dyer and young .lacopo used often to hel]D at this trade. He probably studied in Titian's studio when he was C(uite young, but for some reason — likely because of unseemly Ijehavior — the master refused to have him as a pupil. Very early in life the young artist set to work to perfect himself in his art, using as his ideals "the drawings of ^lichael Angelo and the coloring of Titian." He used casts of the great sculptor's work and dre\^' from them placed in ever}- concei\'- able position and light. Then, to add to the experience that this practice gave him, he made small lay figures of clay and wax, draping them and hanging them at different angles ^^"itli legs and arms representing all possible gymnastic feats, that he might become familiar with the rules of foreshortening. 16.3 104 VEXETIAX PAIXTIXG He even went so far as to place these little figures in and among pasteboard houses, lighted with tiny candles to get perspective and the effect of light and shade. He worked at these funda- mental principles of his art with marvelous patience, sparing no pains or trouble in training his hand to execute with skill and rapidity what his active brain originated. When he began to paint for the public he neglected no order, however humble; all he asked was to show what he could do. His subjects were chosen from all sources. He was as willing to paint sinner as Fig. 109. — Tintoretto. Minerva Driving Away Mars. Ducal Palace, Venice. saint; religious scenes as rioting gods; allegorical A'enice as adoring senator: mythological suljjects as men and maidens; in fact nothing that represented humanity was too difficult for his facile brush. In the Anticollegio, or waiting-room, of the Ducal Palace, \'enice, are four of his mythological subjects so wonderfully painted that they are often spoken of as the most beautiful pictures in the world. It was not until he was thirty years old that he reached the desire of his heart — a commission to \\"ork in the Ducal Palace, ^lore than a decade he devoted his talents to the glorv of Venice in covering hundreds — ves, TINTORETTO 165 thousands — of feet of wall space in this building, that was and is the pride of the \'enetian. Of all his marvelous paintings none hold us with stronger claims for admiration than those pictured gods and goddesses. Tintoretto enters so completely into the spirit of those classic myths and gives them to us with such a sense of fitness that we, too, seem to \\\-e with the immor- tals. In the painting of " .Alinerva Driving Away .Mars" (Fig. 109), we can feel the tension of ^linerva as she pushes against the intruding Mars. Certainly he had no right there! The warmth and beauty of human flesh are so real and are brought i^Hi^^^^ ^-■"^■m ^^^^^m^ ]"..--' ^^^ ■■ ^^^kT j|^\ / ^ J- jm '' ~^^Mp ^eI L -'■■" w 1 WBmj M^^^l ^^ i^l i Fig. 110. — Tintoretto. The .^dultere^s. Aca(lein\-, \"enice. clo.se to US with such consummate skill that we are a part of the scene ourseh-es. We are not surprised that we are drawing long lireaths of deUght at fieing in company with such beauty of form, such marvelous color, such liglit and sliade: we feel the palpitating atmosphere about us, being .scarcely consciou."^ that we are under the charm of art instead of realit}'. If Tintoretto was at home among the gods and goddesses of the old Greek m3'ths he was equally at home among the people of Venice of his day. His religious pictures reflect the life of his time, wliich was a common characteristic of ^'ene- tian artists. In the painting of "Christ and the .\dulteress" (Fig. 110), in the Academy at ^>nice, he has given us one of 106 VENETIAN PAINTING those voluptuous women of the sixteenth century — true to the hfe of the times; but in placing her in this Biblical setting, with the Savior as her final accuser, he has given to her physical beauty a subtle charm that has a deeper significance than outward attraction. The painting is crowded with men and women, yet the artist has so centered the interest in Christ and the woman that the others simply represent a crowd of people as they usually gather when some one is being brought to "justice." The eager interest on the faces of the men as they lean forward to hear the verdict is most human in its universal truth. Tintoretto knew humanity and could depict the different emotions with wonderful exactness. The warm, rich coloring and the bold contrasting of light and shadow on the faces and garments in the foreground give this painting a richness and strength that places it among the best of the master's work. By perseverance and untiring labor Tintoretto won his ]Dlace among the great artists of ^'enice. It is true that there is great inequality in his work, but it would have been impos- siljle for any one to ha^'e kept up to a uni\'ersally high standard and have painted as many pictures as he did — the number is so great that "they are fairly rotting on the walls of Venice to-day." The artist's home life was a source of great inspira- tion to him. Like Titian, he, too, had a beloved daughter — Marietta — on whom he lavished his strongest affection and whose talents promised much, but she was taken away and the adoring father was left to mourn her loss for four years. His home was the resort of many, but his studio was held sacred to himself. Paolo Caliari (1528-1588), more commonly known as Veronese, was ten years younger than Tintoretto, and did not come to Venice until he was nearly thirty years old. Almost from the beginning of his ^'enetian career Titian was his friend and well wisher. Coming as he did at the \-er}' height of the Renaissance, the opportunity was ripe for him to show his power as an artist. No man was more faithful to his trust, for he was a painter par excellence, and whate\'er his subject he gave a calm strength and dignity to the composition that VERO.NESE 167 raised it tfi the liighest plane. He knew how to Hatter the merchant princes of wealthy \'enice by filling his canvases with people clothed in magnificent stuffs, surrounded with noble architecture, amid rich furnishings. His religious pictui'es are Biblical in name only; the sacred characters seem perfectly at home in their elegant surroundings and show no surprise at the extravagance of the times. He did go a little too far in introducing cats, dogs, and buffoons into his compositions, so that the authorities questioned and even brought him to trial, but he defended himself with the assertion that they were simply put in the picture as a bit of decoration in color or space filling. His imagination never ran away with him and his workmanship was always good. There is an independence al:)Out Veronese's work that raises him to a high standard, and a happy frankness in his manner that removes all traces of bombast. He followed his own inspirations, painted fpiickly and lightly, his brush dipped in light as it were, which enveloped his whole canvas with a transparent atmosphere that charms and delights us. In the National Gallery, London, is one of the loveliest of Veronese's compositions — "The Vision of St. Helena" (Fig. Iff). There is none of that wonderful display of magnificently brocaded stuffs and priceless jewels that marks his large canvases, but rather a subtle tone of refinement that no outward adorn- ment could enhance. Nothing could represent the dignity of the Roman queen more perfectly than this Venetian lady of quality. The graceful naturalness of the queen at the moment when sleep has overpowered her has been chronicled with unerring skill. Her vision, the legend says, of the whereabouts of the true Cross gave her just the clew necessary for reclaiming it at Jerusalem. St. Helena was the mother of Constantine the Great, and through her influence the spread of Christianit}' was greatly increased. At her recjuest her son, Constantine, built a basilica in .Jerusalem over the s]3ot where the true Cross was found. The qualit}^ of Veronese's light and color as it reveals the fullness of life in purity of living has reached its highest note in this painting. The large painting of the " SupjDer in the House of Simon lt>^ VEXETIAX PAIXTIXG the Pharisee" (Fig. 112), Academy, \'enice, is a companion piece in its smnptuousness to his ".Marriage of Cana," in the Loin-re, Paris. This picture was painted for the Refector\- of the Dominican monastery of ,San Giovanni e Paolo, ^'enice. In removing these j)ictures from their original home much of Fi<;. 111. — Veronese. 8t. Helena. National CJallery, London. the appropriateness of the design is lost, ^'erollese painted four of these Biblical Ijanquets, each one for the end of a long dining-hall, where it seemed to form a continuation of the hall itself. In this one the background gives one the sense of infinite space and adds greatly to the spaciousness of the scene. The supei'f) arcliitectui'e of the o\-erhanging andies and the faultless VERUXESE IG'J perspeeti\-e of the background -would make the plaiue.st liiuiu.i^- hall a princely banqueting-chamber. The picture glows with color and light and is full of the animal spirit, but is lacking in siiiritual life. The Savior in the center of the table is wvy inconspicuous compared with the noblernen who figure in the foreground. It ^as in this picture that Veronese had put so many grotesque accessories that the In(|uisition compelled him to paint out, but he left a sufficient number to show his tendency in that direction. To see A'eronese himself as he walked the streets of Venice one needs but look at the men as they apjx^ar in the creations -\'eroue>e. Suiij'er in the House of Siiuoii tlie Pliaji.-ee. Acaileiii_\-, \ t of his brain, clothed in all their magnificence, and then the artist stands before us in his veh'et breeches and figured waist- coat, his gorgeous cloak and jeweled ornaments. He was to the manor born, with his courtly mamrers and princely attire. As one lingers to-day before what remains of Tintoretto's elegant little home at the foot of Ponte di yiori. ^'enice, one longs tf) see the magnificent Paolo Cagliaii step from his gondola and enter the older master's house, where he spent so many hours as an honored guest. The petty jealousies of the artist were laid aside in the social intercourse of these two masters. One of the paintings that shows A'eroncse's extra\-agant love of elegant stuffs is "The Adoration of the j\Iagi " (Fig. 113), in the Dresden Tlallery. The lirocaded satins and em- bossed velvets that make up the \^h 1 .r#^ 1'^ 1^ Fig. 113. — Veronese, .\doratioii of the Magi. Dresden Gallery. to such perfection; even the lack of deep thought in the subject presented is almost forgotten in the enjoyment of the wa}- it is put before us. He paints as naturally as he breathes and apparently with as little thought, but the picture he gives us is as full of pure life as the rich blood is after a breath of pure air. He found the Renaissance at its height and left it there when he laid down his brush after forty years of almost incessant work. ITALIAN PAINTING— DECADENCE I'm;. 1]->. — Donienicluno. ('(Jiiitiuuiicn of .St. Jerome, ^'atican, Rome, — See pane 17 CHAPTER XIX CARACCI nOMENICHIXC) CUIDO J;|;NI CARLO UnLCI CARA^'AdCIU SALAATIIR liOSA rr^HAT there is, in tlic natural woi'ld, eillier deA'cl(ii)n\ent or I decline is a hm\ (if Nature. To i-emain statiimaiA" in a state of )ierfection is contrary to every known rule. Tlic law wliich holds good in the rise and fall of empires, kinudonis, and republics, also applies to litei'ature and the ails. The Law of Inertia works until opposing forces start new paths. The great Renaissance movement in Italv was at an end. Artistic development had reached its height in the sixteenth century and a decline was inevitaljle. There were no inoie ^lichael Angelos, Raphaels, or Titians, with their originahty and genius, to open up new fields. Under the depressing rule of the Jesuits, and the pul.)lic calamities that came thi'ough pestilence, famine, and the feuds of the nobles, even the greatest genius would have been crushed. Artists there were \\ith considerable power and individuality, liut, lacking the talents of the originator, they became mere imitators and exaggei-ators. Religion had l)een the chief sul)ject for the artists of the Renaissance, and was still the chief subject for the artists of the Decadence, but what was there left to l)e brought out that had not been thought of ))y the master minds of the ]")ast? Tlie pro\'ince of the rising artists was to gatlier up the excel- lences of their ma.sters and form a new school, the Eclectics; Bologna was the city that led in this new movement thi'ough the Caracci — five of them — and their followers. Annibale Caracci, who was ))orn at Bologna in 1.560, was realh' the strongest man of the tiA'e. When only twenty >'cars old he ^^•ent to Parma to study the works of Correggio, and then on up to A'enice to learn the secret of the \'enetian colorist. 173 174 ITALIAN PAINTING— DECADEXCE He Wits in nf) sympathy with the Mannerists of whom \'asari was an exponent ; in fact his aim was to overcome the exaggera- tions of that school and to make a return to the simpler methods of his predecessors. Poussin was so enthusiastic over his frescos in the Farnese Palace at Rome that he said the work was only surpassed by Raphael. The suljject of those frescos was taken from mythology, in the j^ainting of which he shows his careful study of the antique, which he had added to his already noble qualities after he came to Rome. Annibale painted the usual number of religious pictures, but he gave to Fig. 114. — Caracci. Christ and the Woman of Samaria. Imi>erial Gallery, Vienna. them considerable more strength than was found in the senti- mental compositions of the Mannerists. In studying his pictures we find that he was a student of nature as well as a student of the great masters. This is specially true of the landscape setting of his painting of "Christ and the Woman of Samaria" (Fig. 114), in the Imperial Picture Gallery at Vienna. How truthfully he has handled the per- spective in the winding stream that appears and disappears so naturally! True, it is a classic landscape, but entirely satis- factory as a setting for the Savior's message to the woman. The beauty and grace of the woman of Samaria call forth our unljouncled admiration. Surely Anniliale understood how to iTiake an attractive woman when he painted that figure! Her attitude of earnest attention is portrayed with much technical skill, while the entire scene has a beauty of color and an atmos- ])liei'ic effect that stamp the originality of the artist. He has DOMENICHINO— GUIDO RENI 175 selected the very best from his predecessors and has used the material in his own individual manner without falling to the level of a mere imitator. The times were against him or Anni- bale might have become an artist of considerable power. One of the best pupils of Caracci was Domenico Zampieri (1581-1641), or, as he was more familiarly known, Domenichino. He was a native of Bologna and followed his master to Rome, where he worked with him on the decorations in the Farnese Palace. The picture that brought him the greatest renown was his "Communion of St. Jerome" (Fig. 115 — see p. 172), wliich his enemies declared was taken from a similar picture by the elder Caracci. He was finally compelled to leave Rome and go back to his native city because of the persecutions of his jealous rivals. The painting, now in the Vatican, Rome, is a com- panion piece to Raphael's "Transfiguration," in the same room, both standing on easels. How it was ever possible for the eight- eenth-century critics to rank the "Communion of St. Jerome" as a rival to the "Transfiguration" is a puzzle to us to-day; it is still often classed with the ten great pictures of the world. One thing Domenichino has done to perfection, and that is to represent poor old St. Jerome so realistically that no one ^^'ould doubt his having crucified the flesh until all earthly desires were overcome. The hardness in the handling and the lack of warmth in the color mar even the powerfulness of the compo- sition. The expression of grief on the face of the man at the left is so true to life that one feels the sincerity of the sorrow in that man's heart. A few years later the artist was called back to Ptome by Gregory XV., and was soon as popular as ever — receiving commissions from princes and cardinals. The most noted pupil of the Caracci was Guido Reni (1575- 1642). He was a native of Bologna and was early apprenticed to a Flemish artist of that city, but, being attracted by the fame of the Caracci, he often visited theip studio. When he began to show something of their influence in his pictures his Flemish master was so incensed that Ciuido left and entered the Caracci school. Here he advanced so rapidly that it aroused the jealousy of his fellow students and the displeasure of his masters. GUIJJU KEXI 177 He soon left Bologna for Rome and there, for a ^\iliIe, devoted himself so earnestly to the study of the anti(|ue and to the works of Raphael that he really produced paintings (jf great merit; the greatest being "The Aurora" (Fig. 116), on the ceiling of the Ro«pigliosi Palace, Rome. For more tlian two centuries and a half this fresco has shone forth in all its pristine glory of color. It is to-day one of the most popular pictures in Rome and most highly extolled by tourists. Guido has just fallen short of making a great master- piece; he overbalances the insincerit}' of unity, expres- sion, and pose of the fig- ures by the sincerity of grace, rhythm, vitality, and color of the composition. Tlie shading of the god- desses' robes from delicate Ijlues and greens into white, and the harmony of the dun-colored horses against the clouds, offset by the yellow sky and the blue note over the landscape below, are charming in their balance and poetrj' of tone. It can he truly said of the "Aurora" that, "taken all for all, it is the most accomplished work of its centur}-." The "Ecce Homo" (Fig. 117), in the Dresden Gallery, is another one of Guido's strong productions: a suljject that no amount of technical skill or loving care could make anything but soul-harrowing, but still a subject that has had a certain fascination for artists of all countries and all time. Of all the pictures of the "Ecce Homo" this one is fullest of the pathos of the world-suffering SaA'ior coml^ined A\-ith the strongest marks of that manly strengtli wliich can endure to the end and finally come off contjueror. — (luiflo Reni. Ecce Homo. Dresden Galler.\-. 178 ITALIAN PAIXTIXG— DECADENTE The great popularity of Guido Reni in Rome certainly turned his head, for, although an artist endowed with much natural talent, he contented himself with being a mere reflector, catering to the tastes of his patrons and bent on making money. He became weak, sentimental, and superficial, with no strength Fig. lis. — Guido Reni. Christ on the Cross. S. Lorenzo in Liicino, Rome. or true emotion to redeem his really graceful, ingenious composi- tions; but it is hardly fair to blame Guido for his failure, for no amount of originality or progressiveness could have fought successfully against the ebb tide of the se^'enteenth century. Another very popular picture of Guide's is " Beatrice Cenci." Simply naming this picture brings it so vividly before the mind GUIDO RKNI— CARLO DOLCI 179 that we feel an intimate acquaintance witli the mysterious girl whose "story of offended innocence, of revenge, and of expia- tion will never be forgotten." What is our surprise when we find that it is not a portrait of Beatrice Cenci at all, but Guido's idea of a Sibyl. The legend — for it was nothing but a legend — that this artist had painted the beautiful parricide a few days before her execution cannot be true, as he did not come to Rome until after her death. .M. Corrado Ricci says: "The canvas surel}' represents a Sibyl.'' In his painting of the "Crucifixion" (Fig. 118), in S. Lorenzo in Lucino, Rome, Guido shows a little of the influence of the leader of the Naturalist school — Caravaggio. The peculiar arrangement of the clouds, with the heavy side borders where "now from the sixth hour there was darkness o^'er all the land until the ninth hour," gives that exaggerated realism that marked that school. There is nothing in the pose of the Savior's body or the expression of his face that awakens the least feeling of sympathy for the agony of that awful hour. Even .Jerusalem so peaceful in the distance gives no response to the tragic scene on Calvary. There is plenty of exaggeration, but no sincerity in the scene. Compare this with Diirer's "Crucifixion" (Fig. 202). We now turn to Carlo Dolci (1616-1686), the last of the Florentine artists. With such an inheritance of greatness from men whose works will follow them to all time, how could one be such a sentimentalist as Carlo Dolci was? Most of his subjects were taken from the New Testament; these he treated with considerable skill as a painter, giving a surface smoothness to some of his compositions that almost ecjualed the Dutch painters, but he was lacking in invention and imagination. The exces- sive sweetness in the faces of his angels and women palls on one; they are so insipid that even the skill in the management of the chiaroscuro counts for little. How often one hears the general tourist rave over his pictures, with, "Oh, how pretty!" "Isn't she sweet!" and other inane exclamations that express about as much as the pictures themselves do. Even in his "St. Cecilia" (Fig. 119), in the Dresden Gallery, one of his best paintings, one finds verv little to really admire. The delicacy of color and dainty gracefulness of pose please for the moment; 1^0 ITALIAN PAI XTIXG^DECADENX'E 1 ., •1 ^. ir ' '^^- ^ 1 if only they had been founded on sincerity and truth! Nothing is so insipid as affectation; the world wants genuineness even if, at times, it is uncouth and outwardly unlovely. The great reformers were truth-tellers. .Michelangelo Caravag- gio (1569^1609), the leader of the school of the Nat- uralists, was a man of strong artistic tempera- ment, but with a morose nature and a passionate temper that led him not only into C[uarrels but into the murder of a compan- ion. In his ait he taught "a return to nature" as a means of reviving art; he wished to represent nature and nature's children just as they are; so in his sacred sub- jects he took his models from the street, making the Neapolitan beggar serve as an apostle or saint. The coarseness of the man's o^vn nature is so apparent in his ])ictures that even his power as a colorist and brushman is o^■er- shadowed. He overcharged his backgrounds ^'\•ith shadows, often placing his figures in dungeons with liut a single ray of light comina; from above to illuminate the scene. His contrasts of light and shade were so strong and ])eculiar in their results that they became a marked feature of his school and gave the nameof "Darklings" to his followers. His painting of "Judith and Her Maid with the Head of Hnlofernes" (Fig. 120), in the C'orsini (iallei'v, Florence, exem- Fic;. 119.— Carlo Dolci. St. Cetilia. Dre^ilen Ciallerj'. Fn;. 120. — Caiavaffffio. Judith witll the Head of Holoferne,-?. Corsini Claller^', Florence. CARAVACIGIO— SALVAT(JR KUSA 181 plities the n;itur;il trend of hi.s mind tfjward the hoi-riljle. The word ^'ulgal■ i« written idl over the picture. Would it be possi- L)le for this woman to have prayed, "Strengthen me, Lonl Clod of Ijsrael, this ihiy," l)efore committing the deed that was to deliver Israel? How can one associate this Judith with tlie lieautiful, pure woman of the Apocryphal book of .Judith? One of the principal pupils of the Naturalist school was Salvator Rosa (l(jl5-1673). He is usually known as a land- scape painter, delighting in wild and romantic scenery — such as broken rocks and deep caves — and over all he threw a deep shadow of gloom with onl}- an occa- sional sunbeam. There was a half-savage ]3icturesf|ue- ne.ss in all that he painted. He made his stay in Rome all but impossible by his bitter satire, until, being invited b}- the ^ledici, he went to Florence and put himself under their protec- tion, ^'here he remained for a numljer of years, but finally returned to Rome, \\'here he died and was Ijuried. A good example of Rosa's satirical paintings is his " Diogenes in Searchof ariHonest -Man'' (Fig. 121). The expression of shrewd wit on the face of Diogenes is \\'ell contrasted with the silly laughter of his «'itless tormentors. This picture was, no doul^t, a reflection ( if the times. For more than two centuries Italy has li\'ed in the glories of the i")ast. Her works of art are dra'^^ing the world to her cities; it is to feast on the masterpieces of the great masters of the past that is the lodestone. Xothini; short of another Renaissance can arouse her from the lethargy into which she has fallen. Fio. 121 Sah'atnr Rosa. Dirtg^enes Lnnkinir fnr ail Honest Man. " We're made so that we love First Avhen we see them painted, things we have passed Perhaps a hundred times nor cared to see ; And so they are l^etter painted, better to us, Which is the same thing. Art was given for that." — Browning. ^art ^econiJ PAINTING IN NORTHERN AND WESTERN COUNTRIES IREL.^ND— HOLLAND— BELGIUM— SPAIN— GER.>L\NY— FRANCE— ENGL.4ND— AMERICA Fir,. 134. -Remhr.indt, Portrait c.f a T.ady. Liechtenstein Gallery. Vienna.— .?ff pane 200 CHAPTER XX IHI8H PAINTING IN tracing the artistic develo]5ment of the peoples n\-ing in northern countries, we must again refer to the Egyptian and Chaldean civilization. Historians believe that the hronze- using Dravidian people, so old in their history that they fol- lowed the ancient Stone Age, was the parent of the grand civilization of Egypt and Chaldea. These people dwelt in a warm, wooded region in the south of Asia, and to them is credited the invention of writing. We find in Ireland, before the Kelts, this same people under the Fiiio-Ugrian section of mankind. The Old Testament is full of the mythology of this ancient people. They ^vere sfcilled in the arts and magical sciences, but they needed tlie strength brought to them Ijy the Kelts from Gaul. They needed this active-minded, belligerent, chivalrous people to teach them. Very soon the religion of Ireland began to show tire influence of the mixture of these two races. At first there is the Sham- anistic superstition of the Fino-Ugrian race; this was followed by the Keltic pantheism of the Druids; after which came the pure form of Christianit}', at first Eastern in character and probably brought by the Greek colonists. Then Rome, ever watchful to send her missionaries into far countries, sent Bishop Paladius to Ireland. This servant of the Church was well chosen by Pope Coclestinus (a.d. 422-432); he built churches — simple wooden structures — for the people and left representa- tives to carry the work forward. The religion soon became Roman Catholic. St. Patrick, who was born in a.d. 372, came back to Ireland as a missionary early in Ihe fifth century. His ideas were 18.5 186 IRISH PAINTING Alexandrian rather than Roman. His bell, said to be the oldest bit of metal work in existence, with an unbroken history of fourteen hundred years, was supposed to have been used by .St. Patrick in his missionary tour through Ireland. On it is seen the scrf)ll work (Fig. 122) that was one of the most char- acteristic forms of ornamentation in missal illumination among the Irish. The story goes that when St. Patrick was a young Idov he was bound out to an Irish landholder, of the petty kind, by whom he was subjected to many trials and forced to undergo many hardships. He was sent out to watch the sheep, and, wandering over the country for good feeding places, came in touch with the very poor, and, although a young lad, realized what an ignor- ant, downtrodden life they were living. The more he thought about the.se poor, depraved creatures the more he longed to uplift them, until the desire became so strong that he finally ran away from his master, and after many weeks, pos- sibly months, found his way to the south of Europe, some say to Rome, others to some other center of learn- ing. Msions came to him in which appeared the children of Ireland, 3-et unborn, stretching out their hands to him, until at last he returned to Ireland, where he is to-day revered as the patron saint. From this time to the Reformation the Irish were lukewarm Romanists. The early art of Ireland, as of every other country, was simply a desire to ornament some object or represent some idea. There are found to-day drawings on bone which indicate that the first efforts of the people were to copy objects in nature. A specimen of l)one ornamentation or history record in the ^luseum at St. Germain, Paris (Fig. 123), shows an elephant in outline. The drawing is A'erv cleverlv done and mav have Fin. 122. — Scroll Work on St. I'atrick's Bell, Svigge?teil_ from Design in the Book of Kells. ILLUMINATED MANUSCRIPTS 187 -Drawing of Elei'hant uii Jlone. St. Germain, Paris. been made to call the attention of some absent one to the fact that an elephant had been killed. The peculiar form of the slvull, and the long, curved tusks mark it as belonging to an extinct species of the prehistoric mastodon. In no country has the illuminated manuscript reached the perfection that it did in Ireland. A careful study of these illuminations discloses the skillful combination of mo- tives adopted from textile and metal designs, from veg- _ etable life, from the simpler form of animal life, and from an attempt to represent the i''"' human figure. In Trinity Col- lege, Dublin, is the " Book of Kells " — purely Irish — in which are wrought very curious monograms. The letter ".J" (I'ig. 124) is particularly interesting because of the delicate handling of the man's head at the end of the cui-ve. Certainly a minia- g „ -MJb»ga-,t-aMii ^^^^ *" lifelike must have been the 1^— --^^-—^I^HHF^H portrait of some one well known to the artist. The work done on these illuminated manuscripts is exceed- ingly beautiful, and a fine example of the original meaning of the AM)rd manuscript — hand written; many of these pictures tell the story of the life of the time as well as though written in words. The "Durham Book,'' in the British ^luseuni, is another most wonderful example of hand work, of Irish origin. These l^ooks — the Kells and the Durham — were made l^etween the sixth and ninth centuries; when we remember that all the rest of Europe was at that time steeped in barbarism the work appears still more remarkable. The delicacy of color an-. In the .Museum are found some of the most beautiful of the Irish illu- minated manuscripts. There is nothing that jjleases the custodian more than ask- ing him to show these treasures. It is well worth the tourist's time to turn aside from the Ijeaten line of travel and visit St. Ciall. The monks from the Aliliey of St. Gall were employed Iriy Charlemagne to build chui'ches and alilieys in his kingdom. ;\Iany of the patterns used for ornamentation by these Keltic workers can Fig. 126.— The Cruci- fixion. Irish Manu- script Gospels. St. Gall. .Switzerland. GOLDEN PERIOD OF IKISH ART 189 be traced to the \\ork of very early Greek artists. The golden pei'iod of art in Ireland was from the fifth to the ninth centuries. There is scarcely a country in Europe that is not indebted to Ireland for its masters in every branch of learning. All through the early centuries the Irish skilled workmen designed and built, not only the churches and public buildings, but they built roads and bridges, and also supplied the masons, plumbers, carpenters, and smiths. The \'eneral)le Bede, who wrote in the seventh century, says: "Iiish architects l)uilt a church for the Anglo-Saxons at Witham, a.d. 603 . . . after\\-ard built old St. Paul's in London, a.d. 610, on the site of the temple of Diana." Prince Dagabert (a.d. 602-638) of Strasburg, Holland, was educated in Ireland. It is said that when he retmiied to Holland he brought with him monks and skilled men who built churches througluiut his kingdom. The records show that during the eighth century the Irish workman was building in Italy, Germany, Spain, Portgual, and France. As we take up these countries in the growth of painting, the influence of the Irish on the artistic development of the people will often be noted. DUTCH PAINTING ^H ^^^L 'fe--.!^'':_'_ IH 1 HRfH ^H^^'^^\!^l l^kjBI^K//^ J ^^L^ J IJ ^P ^ fl -'P Ei 1 CHAPTER XXI LUCAS VAX LKYDKX FRAXZ HALS REMBRAXDT IN no country of Europe has the art of painting Ijeon nmre imbued with the independent .spirit of the people than in Holland. From her very earliest existence her history has been of a continual strife against the sea and the neighboring tribes, which developed in her inhaljitants a strong intellectual ambi- tion and a wonderful amount of common sense. Their desire to excel showed itself as early as the middle of the seventh century, when Dagabeit I. studied in Ireland and brought back skilled workmen who Ijuilt the first Christian church in the Netherlands, at Utrecht (WittenlDurg). But swamps and woodlands prevailed, even when it was a part of the Prankish empire in a.d. SOO, under Charlemagne, and ruled liy dukes and counts. By the last of the ninth century began the A'iking incursion from the north, and Siegfried, the great leader, married the emperor's daughter. During this invasion the country was devastated, the wealthy monasteries perished, and all works of art were destroyed. The nobles, however, soon came to the front and rebuilt the towns, and prosperity again smiled on the country. By the eleventh century the title "Count of Hol- land" was originated, and for four hundred years these counts ruled the Netherlands. During this period the people became independent of imperial authority. There were probaljly many works of art produced at this time, but the invader and iconoclast did their work so ■\\ell that nothing remains to show the character of the art. Not until the fifteenth century, when Holland and Belgium were still united, were there any specimens of painting preserved, and these show the characteristics of both the Dutch and Plemish artists. The first man to really represent Dutch, art 193 194 DUTCH PAINTING was Lucas van Lej'den (1494-1533). When but twelve j'ears old he was recognized as a master in painting, engraving, and wood-car^'ing, and during his short life of thirty-nine years he came in contact with the greatest artists of his time. There existed a personal friendship between Albrecht Diirer, the first artist in Germany, and Lucas, although Diirer was more than twenty years older than the Dutch artist. At first Lucas was quite Flemish in his method of work, but he developed a peculiar style of his own, particularly in the use of color, in which he would produce the quaintest effects by strange con- 127. — Lucas van Lej'den. An Alcliemist. Academy di S. Luca, Rome. trasts. He would place jet-black hair against yellow or rose- colored drapery, red hair by the side of apple-green or black, using such opposite colors that the result was almo.st startling. He painted many religious subjects, treating them in a most original manner, often introducing exquisitely modeled heads painted with the greatest delicacy into scenes that were full of grotesc^ue realism. He is better known from his engravings than his paintings, as there are but few of the latter. His genre pictures have the quaint naturalness and attention to details that characterize the "Little .Master" of the later Dutch school. In the Accademia di S. Luca, Rome, is the picture of "An Alchemist" (Fig. 127), which illustrates his ability to portray a homely scene in an interesting manner. He has not VAN LEYDEN— FRANZ HALS 195 only made this man a philosopher, but he has added that personal element that brings him in touch with us. The land- scape as seen through the open casement has a classic cast that gives a deeper meaning to the meditations of the alche- mist. ^'an Leyden worked before Holland threw off the yoke of the Roman Catholics. In time, however, the Dutch people began to protest against the intolerance of the Church of Rome. A long, fierce struggle was made against the Spanish rule of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and finallv they were a free people — free in thought, and free in religion — and became "The United Provinces of Holland," or the Dutch Republic, with the state religion Protestant. Such a change soon began to show itself in every department of industry. The artist was no longer confined to religious subjects sanctioned by the Church, but he could choose for himself, usually taking his scenes from the life around him, where everything appealed to his artistic sense. No object was too ugly, no scene too humble for his brush; often his studio was the village ta^'ern or the village green, and the pictures were the card tables or the village dance. Holland has always been noted for its merchant guilds or corporations. Early in the seventeenth century corporation pictures became very much the fashion. The paintings are large and each figure in the picture is a portrait of the indi^-idual member of the guild, and yet the grouping of the figures is so fine that the pictures are not merely portrait groups l^ut figure pieces. The painting of the "Banquet of the Officers of the Corps of Archers of St. Andrews" (Fig. 128), in Haarlem, I)}' Franz Hals (1580?-1666), is one of the best of the corporation pictures, and shows Hals in full flower in 1627. The arrange- ment of the figures is truly wonderful. With what skill the artist has turned the faces so that the strong features of each face are emphasized! Look at the individual characteristics he has given to the hands! The picture is full of men, yet there is no feeling of its being crowded. The rich neutral color of the background is most harmonious with the white ruffs and soft, dark beaver hats: the yellowish brown, orange, and tender 196 DUTCH PAIXTING blue of the scarfs blend well with the dark stuffs of the clothes. There is a breadth and certainty in his touch that could hardly be surpassed, if they were ever ecjualed. When one bears in mind that Franz Hals did not follow a long line of artists who had gradually developed the genius that could produce such a guild picture, but that it was from himself alone that the power emanated, one appreciates more than ever his greatness as an artist. Very little is known about the daily life of this wonderful man, but much is known of his power to re\'eal the poetry of the men and things of his Ik / m,ky^ i '0f / s'sil Hi > ^^° Flii. 12S. — Franz Hals. Corii.s of Archers of St. .\ndrews. Haarlem, HollaiKi. time. If the stories are true in regard to his habits, there is no doubt but that sometimes he loved the ale-house better than his art, but this did not hinder his leaving some of the finest character sketches from that same ale-house that have ever come from an artist's brush. The personality of " Hille Bobbe " (Fig. 129), the Witch of Haarlem, is as familiar to us as the artist himself. She must have been a great favorite with him, for his paintings of her are in many galleries of Europe and also one in the ?*[etropolitan .Museum, New York City. She is a perfect caricature of ^linerva, but true to the life of her own social strata. He probably had listened to many an ale- liouse tale from this wit of the Bohemians and had laughed FRANZ HALS 197 as uprnariously as an}- of her companions while immortalizing her with the swift, bold strokes of an impressionist's brush. In the Ryks .Museum, Amsterdam, is "The Jester" (Fig. 130) , a painting that the director of the Museum says competent judges pronounce not genuine, but probably done by one of the Hals family. .Mr. Cole, who has made a fine engra\-ing ■'■"' .: ^-'k'.-^'' ■'■ ■:tM~ . .... , '.■--, ■ ,■ m/F!^-. ■ ' ■>■ /^^^■^^BvV-' ' i>v' "It .-"' yfW^^X' ■ ... J jS_^ f «%{fl^^L.^fl^&' '^ '^ <-,■-' B^^^^^^l W^m^ 'm^ ■ ■ fc^ / ^i'v^ k^'-' i ^ -^a*- HlaJI 1 'fcv ^ '."":: ,,^^,i'r ^'1 -^•^O'' ■ A^J^-r. . Fig. 129. — Franz Hals. HiUe Bobbe. Berlin Gallery. of it, agrees with the director, and points out the clumsiness of the hands as the most evident sign of an inferior brush. The stor}' goes that \^'hen Rembrandt went to Amstei'dam to seek his fortune, he hoped to enter the studio of Hals, but when he went to see him, Hals was in such a drunken state that Rem- brandt thought his life too precious to trust it under the same 198 DUTCH PAINTING Fi<;. 130.— Franz Hals. The Jes- ter. Rvks Museum, Amsterdam, Holland. lotif with one who could so lose all .self-control. Whatever his jjersonal habits were, there is no cjuestion but that he w'as the most brilliant and masterly of Remljrandt's predecessors and the real founder of the Dutch school of painting. Hals was more than a dozen years older than Rembrandt, but the latter only lived three years after Hals died. It is not known just how well they knew each other, or whether they were per- sonal friends at all. Hals spent the latter years of his life in Haarlem, where he died in 1666. The greater part of Rembrandt's life (1607?-1669) as an artist was spent in Am.sterdam. Prob- ably no artist has had more varied stories told of his early years; there is even a controversy as to whether he was born in his father's mill, or in his home. This seems a rather trifling matter compared with the great importance of other details of the artist's life. While we say that Hals was the founder of Dutch painting, w-e say with equal em- phasis that Rembrandt (Fig. 131) was the greatest painter of the Dutch school. Rembrandt's father was abun- dantly able to give his son every educational advantage, but his ^^■hole thought was to train him sf) tliat he could make money. Only when cominced that it would be a gain to him.^elf to send the bo}- to Amsterdam would he furnish the funds for him to gn. Reports say that Rembrandt inheiited his father's love f(ir gold, and, when away from the parental Fic;. 131. — Rembrandt. Portrait of Himself. National Gallery, Lontton. REMBRANDT l!)i) roof, forgot to return the loan. Xo matter whether any of the stories told of the artist's cupidity and shameless extrava- gance are true or not, the simple fact that he was not per- fect in his every-day life detracts nothing from the wonderful genius of the man as an artist. Rembrandt was one of the great exjiositors of human pas- sions. His portrayal of the joys and sorrows of life is so com- prehensive in char- acter that he repre- sents the joys and sorrows of the whole world. Only a man who had had the supremest hap- piness and the keen- est grief himself, could put on can- vas such universal truths. His pic- tures belong to all people and all time. Could anything be fuller of gladness and laughter than the picture of "Rembrandt and His First Wife, Saskia" (Fig. 132)? It is so full of sun- shine that it fairly brightens the room where it hangs in the Dresden Gallery. His laughing face tells plainly that his life is all pleasure to him now. He loved this young wife with the whole strength of his passionate natui'e. There is no fore- boding of the great sorrow that is coming, when this "joy of his life" is to be taken and only the little son, Titus, left as his comfort. Rembrandt was now at the height of his worldl}- success; he had all he could do to fill the orders for portraits and for guild -Rembrandt. Portrait of Reiiibi His Wife, .Saskia. Dresden. 200 DUTCH PAIXTIXG pictures. The "School of Anatomy" (Fig. 133 — see p. 192), ordered by Doctor Tiilp for the Guild of Surgeons, wa.s hLs first guild picture. This painting was intended for the Dis.secting Room in Amsterdam, but it is now in the Gallery at The Hague. Soon after Rembrandt received the order he bribed the doctor's attendant to secrete him in the lecture room behind a curtain so that he could hear Doctor Tulp lecture without being seen. It was against the rules of the guild to admit an outsider. The men gathered around the doctor are probably members of the guild listening while he explains to his audience — not shown in the painting — the workings of the muscles and tendons of the arm. Each face is a portrait, and holds our attention so closely that the corpse is of minor importance, although Rembrandt has brought the strongest light to bear on the peculiar white of the dead body. Artists explain the shortness of the right arm of the corpse by saying that the subject mu,st have been deformed, for Rembrandt never would have made so great a blunder in anatomy. It was not only in the faces of himself and his wife that he caught the happy expression that belongs to a clean, pure life, but we find it in many of his portraits. In the one of "A Young Lady" (Fig. 134 — see p. 184) in the Liechten- stein Picture Gallery, Menna, he has expressed all the exu- berance of spirit that a beautiful petted debutante possesses. There is not the least suggestion that life could hold anything for this beauty but joy and gladness. What a superb piece of ]iortraiture! How it glows with golden tones that sparkle on every ornament, glisten in every lock of the fluffy hair, give greater depth to the laughing ej'es, and warm the soft flesh! We could not look at this charming young woman without saying: " Her beauty made me glad." The "Xight Watch" (Fig. 135) is Rembrandt's most famous corporation picture. He probably had no sketch of the subject as a whole, as only two hasty sketches of the central group have ever been found — one is in black chalk and the other a pen drawing. The absence of preliminary study, together with the work of the restorer, would fully account for inequalities and faults of pi-oportion in the painting. The 202 DUTCH PAINTING incident portrayed is unquestionably a call to arms of the c•i^•ic guards, and was more likely a "Day Watch" than a "Night Watch." Even in 1781 the tones were so dark and the shadows so dense that Reynolds scarcely recognized the work as Rembrandt's, which may account for the name "Night Watch " being given it. There are two theories, however, about the subject of this painting: one account says the men were 1^ ■• - .• -,■■■; "■■"•• ' •' • 1 24 Fig. 1.36. — Rembrandt. Supper at Emmaus. Louvre, Paris. assembled, preparing for practice of military tactics, and that the artist gives them with their "arms" ready to start — this would give precedent to the "Day Watch"; but the other account says the civic guards were having a banquet when, in the mid.st of the festivities, a little girl gives an alarm, with the story that she and her little com]3anion were playing at the edge of the town just at e^-ening when the}' overheard some Spanish soldiers planning an attack, so she hurries to the hall and her information causes the confusion shown in the picture. REMBRANDT 203 The child, in the full light of tlie foreground, is shown as a queer mixture of woman and child. Tlie lighting is peculiai' to Rembrandt — placed wherever his fancy might dictate, with no regard to its source. When the "Night Watch" was put in place in the Ryks ?*fuseum, Amsterdam, it was too large for the space assigned to it, so a piece was cut off to accommodate it to its new home. Remljrandt began to lose prestige from the painting of this picture, for it was impossible to give ec|ual prominence to every member of the guild represented, which so offended some that they withdrew their patronage from him. As the burdens of the artist's life increased, the pathos of life Ijecame more and more apparent in his pictures. His art grew deeper and sadder under the burden of poverty, neglect, and sorrow, but it did not flag or decline. He ne\'er ceased the stud}^ of humanity, but sought the forlorn and the miser- able; observing the beggar and the .Jew, the old and the infirm. When the clouds were heaviest around him he painted that marvelous picture, "The Supper at Emmaus " (Fig. 136). As we stand before that picture in the Louvre the full meaning of the Prophet Isaiah's words come to us, for sui'ely the face and figure of this Savior "hath no form nor comeliness." Diirer. in his "Chi'ist on tlie Cross" (Fig. 202). has given the suffering Savior carrying the burden of the world's sin, but here we ha^-e the marks on his poor bruised body of that awful anguish where his "sweat was as drops of blood." No painter in all the realm of art has ever comliined in one face such a burden of sorrow with so complete a triumph over the woi'ld as Rembrandt has shown in this face of our Blessed I^ord. AVhile he has represented the Christ as a .Jew, yet in that face he comprehends the human race; it is from humanit}- that the burden of sin has been lifted; he is the universal Savior. In the picture of his "^lother" (Fig. 137), in the Im]5e- rial ^luseum, "Menna, Rembrandt has brought out those traits of character that, transmitted to the son, made the wo3ld her deljtor. Tho.se keen, piercing eyes have looked squarely at life's problems. The undaunted spirit of a conqueror shines out of that face, but it is the spiiit of a conqueror through faith. What an inspiration to womanhood to attain an old age so •J04 DLTCH PAIXTIXG beautiful in its sei'enity and sweetness! Such women are in- deed the power behind the throne! Women, study this face! Let each lesson that the days and months bring to you give to you her deep knowledge of life! Rembrandt has left many etched and painted pictures of his father and mother. ^^'e could hardly Ioab such an artist as Rembrandt; he has gone so deep into the mysteries of life that we stand in awe of him; he is so much Ijeyond us. We are not sentimentally enthusiastic over his pic- tures, Ymi we are deeply impressed. There is a grandeur in his rich color- ing that sends a thrill through our ^'ery being; those golden browns, that seem to send sunlight into the room, almost dazzle us in brilliancy; it seems as though, l)y some magical power, he had mixed the sunshine with his colors. No artist has ever so com- pletely ignored all laws of art — he is a law unto him- self. Such was his power in analyzing character that his portraits alone would gi\e us the history of the Dutch peo]5le. Every fault is over- looked in recognizing the great truths he tells. Even teiim, \'ienria. Wam& ■ ®^^ ^Qi- \ ■'•*, ^ % li" ^ ^ -5 W . ■M6 DUTCH PAINTING simply honest merchants discussing tlie details of their calling. Look at the expression on those faces! Could anything be more full of life — the life worth living? Each man is so indi- vidual that we wish to shake him by the hand and ask his Yiew'ii on the vital questions of the day. We are sure that not a man there has his "price." Rembrandt's influence on Dutch art was deep and lasting. He has never had an equal among his own countrymen, and never a superior in an\- country. CHAPTER XXII BHOUWEH BOL FLIXCK MAES — VAX DEE HELST- TER BOHCH OSTADE THERE is often a question about tlie exact names and dates of the Dutcli and Flemisli artists of the se\'enteenth centun'. This fact alone shows of how little importance such details are compared with the influence left through the per- sonalit}' of the artist himself. It is the character of the man stamped on his i^'ork that gives the "hall-mark" of his worth. "And their works do follow them." Adrian Brouwer (1605?- 1638) was claimed bj' both Holland and Belgium, and thus forms a sort of con- necting link between the two countries. If he was not a native of Haarlem, as claimed by some writers, at least he was a pupil of Hals, who lived in that rjuaint old Dutch town. From Haarlem he went to Amster- dam and then to Antwerp, where he died in 1638. The few pictures we have of this artist, who was cut off so early in life, mark him as a ^-ery close rival of his master. No doubt his personal liking for the tavern accounts for his delight in portraying scenes of drunkenness and riot. "A Domestic Scene" (Fig. 139), in The Hague Gallery, is a characteristic example of his «-ork. We have here the same nah-e perception of the national tendencies that his master brought out in his 207 te :: w ^ ^a^^^Efl^Hj^^^.^'-'- ' 1 '' .^1 Fig. 1o9. — Brovnver. Dome^tic Scene. Picture Gallery-, The Hague, Holland. 208 DUTCH PAINTING "Joll}' Fellows." The beautiful color and fine technic of his paintings raise his scenes from low life to a place on the walls of the drawing room, where they ai'e admired bythe most fastidious. Ferdinand Bol (1611-1680) is one of those artists over whom there has been a vast amount of talk in regard to himself and his master — a la Bacon-Shakespeare. That he was one of the first and one of the best of the pupils of Rembrandt is easily conceded, but to make him replace or equal the great master is absurd. During his earlv career as an artist — while Rem- 140. — Ferdinand Bol. The Repose in Egypt. Dre.^den. brandt was at the height of his popularity — Bol was an excel- lent reflector. When later he forsook his illustrious teacher, and, after many changes, followed in the wake of Rubens, he lost his really strong qualities, for he left portrait painting to compose figure pieces. His picture, "Tlie Repose in Egypt" (Fig. 140), in the Dresden Gallery, belongs to his later period, when, with an Italian subject, he used his Flemish manner, Ijut with little success in either. The smoothness of finish and a certain charm in the arrangement of his compositions, together with a delicate i-efinement in tlie handling, made him very ]5opular in his day. It is as a portrait painter, however, that Bol is really at his best. In tliese likenesses he follows more closely the teachings of Rembrandt. FLINCK— MAES 209 Govert Flinck (1615-1660) was not only a pupil of Rem- brandt but his personal friend. He was associated with the master just at the age when the power of assimilation was the strongest, and his natural instinct taught him the value of the rare opportunity before him. During the early years of his artistic career he followed the master so closely that all his works show the influence he was under. Indeed many times his paintings were thought to be Rembrandt's. In the Louvre, Paris, is a charming "Portrait of a Young Girl" (Fig. 141), in which Flinck has retained the Rembrandt manner without jeopardizing his own originality. The sim- plicity and grace of this beautiful child have given a wonderful popularity to this painting. She belongs to no country or nation, but is claimed by human- ity. If Fhnck had only remained true to himself and his early training he might have left a name second only to his illustri- ous teacher, but he loved public approval, and, like his fellow pupil Bol, was easily won from the neglected RemlDrandt to the more pop- ular artists, ^lurillo and Rubens, who were then the idols of the fickle multitude. From this time on Flinck lost his real power as a painter, although he was a strong artist when in his native country and governed by rules that strengthened his natural artistic instincts. He became so popular that many of his por- trait orders are said to have been filled b}' Van der Heist. Of all the pupils of Rembrandt prol^ably none de\-eloped more originality than Nicolaas ;\Iaes (1632-1693). He had such a keen appreciation of M'hat a pupil ought to al^sorl^ from his master, that, in his paintings, he shows the master's train- FlG. 141. — Ciovert Flinck. Portrait of Young Girl. Louvre. Paris. 210 DUTCH PAI-XTIXG ing, but stamped with his own individuality, which marked him as a man of ideas. The pity of it is that, instead of following the line that he was pre-eminently fitted to excel in, he turned his talent to portraiture, because there was more "money in it," so has left but a few little gems of his genre paintings. One of his very earliest domestic scenes is the "Le Benedicite" (Fig. 142), in the Louvre. He was scarcely more than a boy when he painted this touching Uttle poem. Only a boy who had sat at his grandmother's table and listened to the blessing as it fell from her lips could have painted a face so beautiful in its simple trust. The bright sunlight streaming in from the window above glorifies that meager fare and gives a touch of Divine Grace to that homely old face. How delicately he has painted every object — the keys hanging on the wall, the loaves of bread, the spotted pitcher, and even kitty as she pulls at the tablecloth; but there is no trace of pettiness in the handling. Such a saying of Grace would be a benediction in any dining-room! Very little is known of the early life of ^laes except that he was born at Dordrecht in 1632, and studied under Rembrandt at Amsterdam, where he died in 1693. There are very few of his little idyls of Dutch home life, but those few are of great value, commanding almost any price. The earnestness of the ''Le Benedicite" is a marked characteristic of all his genre pictures, and that earnestness is just the quality that has made his little gems so much sought after. The one Dutch artist who seems to have had little in common with the other men of the seventeenth century in Holland is Bartholomeus van der Heist. He was liorn in Haarlem about 1613, and possil)ly studied under Hals before he went to Am- sterdam in 1636. It is as a portrait painter that he is best known: particularly in his figure pieces does he show his skill Fio. 142- — Maes. Le Benedicite. Louvre, Paris. VAX DER HELST 211 in making each individual in the picture a portrait. He did not, however, succeed in making a pleasing composition of his figure pieces, any more than a photographic group is an artistic picture. "The Banquet of the Civic Guards" (Fig. 143], which hangs opposite Rembrandt's "Night Watch" in the Ryks iluseum, Amsterdam, is his masterpiece. Sir Joshua Reynolds said of this work: "This is, perhaps, the first picture of portraits in the world, comprehending more of those cjualities which make a perfect portrait than any other I have ever seen." Each man of the tw-enty-five represented has equal prominence, so far as his own individuality is concerned, whether he is in the foreground or background of the picture. He made no sacrifice of special likeness to perfect the harmony of the com- position, so, unlike Rembrandt in his "Night Watch," lie pleased each man — giving him his "money's worth" — and held his place in popular esteem. Some one has well said, in criti- cising the painting, that, if Van der Heist had taken separate portraits and pasted them on canvas, there could hardly haxe been less unity in light and atmosphere. Fine portraits the}- certainly are of men whose presence would Ije felt in any com- nmnity. No one knew how to give dignit}' of pose and manner, strength of character in ever\' feature of the face and eyery turn of the head, and to show power of execution in every jjuir of hands — which makes each man alive — better than did ^ an der Heist. His portraits were in great demand in his own day, and commanded even a greater price than Rembrandt's. He was only about fifty-seven when he died in Amsterdam in 1670; but very little is known of his life or his teachers. The artists who followed Rembrandt and were not his inmiediate pupils were often spoken of as the "Jjittle Dutch- men." Except for the corporation pictures, most of the paint- ings were made for the home and were small in size, which accounts for the name. The artist chcse his subject fion^ scenes in every-day life, and presented those scenes with such consummate skill that the suliject was nothing compared with the iixn/ the subject was treated. An object ugly in itself was made beautiful by the hand of genius. These artists were the true gtmre painters. TER BORCH 213 Probably the greatest of the " Little Dutchmen" was Gerard Terburg — more correctlj' Ter Borch — (]617?-1681). His com- positions are all small and most of them interiors; he knew just the details that were of most importance, and just how to subordinate all else in the picture to the center of interest. He loves to give us scenes from high life where the women wear silks and satin and play on the spinnet while they sing for entertainment. Fromentin says of the " Officer Offering Money to the Young Woman" (Fig. 144), that it is "one of the finest Dutch works that the Louvre owns." Was ever brush work so perfect! Every detail is noted, with no pettiness; both figures are clear cut ^\ithout detracting from the melting outlines; the colors are as pure as na- ture's own, but showing none of the imitator's pal- triness. Here we have a work of art but no artifici- ality; every feature of that officer and his lady-love is instinct with life. The very humanity of the scene is the keynote that touches the heart. Although Ter Borch's pictures are small the handling is broad and full. He uses few figures and places them so that all accessories center and emphasize the main thought ; his details are never obtrusive, but often bring out a new truth from a very commonplace scene. Ter Borch was an aristocrat and an educated one, too. In his travels he visited Italy, where he made a special study of Titian; he also went to Spain, stopping at iladrid, where he may have met the great Spanish master, Velasciuez; at least he made a careful study of his works. His own countrymen were not overlooked, for Rembrandt was greatly appreciated by him. Fig. 144. — Ter Borch. Officer Offering Money to the Young Woman. Lou\Te, Paris. 214 DUTCH PAINTING Often the subject chosen by tlie genre painters is almost disgusting in itself, but the workmanship is never degraded or ugly. A tavern scene, showing humanity when it approaches the nearest to the brute, awakens a pity for poor fallen man, and a feeling of wonder that the artist could so arouse our sympathy. From the works of these artists we picture Hol- land as she was at that time and as she is to-day; theirs is a national art. While Ter Borch was taking his scenes from among the people of refinement and culture, Adrian van O.stade was setting up his easel in the ale-house and tavern. He was the fai-orite pupil of Hals and only three or four years younger than his great contemporary — Rem- brandt. Perhaps his sub- jects were a little too vulgar at times, but he had .such a delicious way of showing them that we forgive the - coarseness and gi^"e them the place of honor in the drawing room. One little gem, "The School-master," in the Louvre, valued at .l;33,000, will give some idea of \'an O.stade's wonderful skill in giving character to the simplest and commonest of every-day scenes. "The Fish ^larket" (Fig. 145), in the same cabinet, has nothing finical in its handling. That fish dealer fits into his surroundings perfectly; he and the fish belong to each other. There is something of Rembrandt in the lighting of the picture; the strongest rays of light are on the fish, although it is in a no more direct path of light than the table or other fish beside it. Could anything be more charming than the "wondrous color — the warm, humid atmosphere and mellow golden light in which it is steeped"? Van Ostade's real name was Jansz. He was born in Haarlem in 1610 and tliere he died in 168.5. 145.— Van Ostade. The Fish Market. Lou\Te, Paris. CHAPTER XXIII DOU — STEEN METSU — YER MEEE — PIETEK DE HOOCH NETSCHEH SOilE one has said of Gerard Dou that he was "great in ^ little things," which expresses exactly his standing as an artist. In no picture does he show his excessive detail work more Fig. 146. — Dou. The Dropsical Woman. Louvre Pari.s. than in the "Dropsical Woman" (Fig. 146), in the Louvi'e. Look at the jiicture carefully and note the infinite pains lie has taken to bring out the smallest detail of every article in the 215 216 DL'TCH PAIXTIXG room; nothing has Ijeen overlooked — the curtain, the chande- lier, the window ^\'ith its spray of leaves above, the ornaments — all have had the same attention as the patient, the doctor, and the grief-stricken girl. Dou could paint a brass kettle so perfecth' that it takes but little imagination to see one's face in it. Mr. Timothy Cole says that when he first saw Don's " Niglit School," in the Ryks ^luseum, Amsterdam, he put up mm w^ sylSlS'' ■# [■'» yvT' - hH'*- *'' \: f 1 ^^^': i^'"' W'^ It. ~lkh'' ^ -i. ^ -;2 €. Wv 'r *■ 'M ii^^Efl '■ 7^ ^> #. 1 r %:'^-^% *'^'^i£^ ^■^ 'v Bl ' n^^Bp ^Ti^ ^^^'.^ feiM 1 — '^ 'W '^_ . BS^*"P^s! Fig. 147. — Jan Steeii. Christmas. Rjks Jluseum. Anistertlani. his hand to shut out the light of the candle in the foreground, that he might the better see the objects in the backgi-ouncl, forgetting for the moment that it was painted light. One can scarcely keep from using the tabooed words "How natural!" wlien looking at Dou's pictures. But do we want a photograph in ))ainting? In turning to Jan Steen (1626'?-1676) we again have scenes from the tavern and ale-house — in fact it is said that he had no studio except as he set up his easel in these public places. JAN STEEN 217 ]5ut when we look at his painting of "Christmas" (Fig. 147), in the R\'ks .Museum, Amsterdam, we find liim equally at home in the family among the children. No artist who could enter so entirely into the joys and sorrows of the large family of chil- dren on Christmas morning has lost his \ovc for the pure antl innocent. Who has not watched the little two-year-old darling of the household as she appi'opriates every present regardless of the tears of her booby brother? Steen was an artist, and, " If he had been born in Rome instead of Lej'den," says one critic, "and had been a pupil of Michael Angelo's instead of \'an Goyen's, he would have been one of the greatest artists in the world." He has often been called the Dutch Hogarth. He cer- tainly did satirize his own time with- out reserve. His pictures of vice are a little too attrac- tive, however, for him ever to have been a preacher, though his sarcas- tic flings may have cut deeply at times. "The Village Festival," or "Kermess" (Fig. 148), in the Metropolitan Museum, New York Cit}', illustrates his inimitable rendering of ale-house jol- lity. The picturesqueness of the scene far exceeds the coarse- ness of the humanity gathered there. The bright colors of the costumes against the soft, rich green of the trees and grass are enchanting; the fleecy, white clouds and sparkling water, as seen through the low arch of the stone bridge, thrill one with delight. How nature softens man's vulgarity! 8teen was born at Leyden in 1626: after studying under a German painter at Utrecht, he probaljly went to Haarlem and became a pupil of "\'an Ostade. There is something of this mas- Fio. 148. — Jan Stcen. The Village Festival. Metropolitan Museum, New York City. 218 DUTCH PAINTING ter's style in his work, Ijut Steen never lost sight of himself while under Van Ostacle or any other master. He was too strong a man to be an imitator. That he was a drunken sot can hardly be possible when he has left over five hundred pictures as a life work. It is true, however, that his work is not always up to high-water mark. When he is at his best no genre painter could surpass him, and as a brushman he had no equal in Dutch art. If we were classing these "Little Dutchmen" according to their subjects, we would name Ter Borch and Dou for high life, Van Ostade and Steen for low life, and Gabriel Metsu as a f! -z.^ m 1.1 1^2 3^ nim^lfl 'ylLiflKA £-^^1 Fig 149. — Metsu. The Family of Gelting. Roj'al Gallery. Berlin. sort of go-between, with a preference for drawing-room scenes, ^letsu, who was born in Leyden in 1630, inherited his talent from both his parents. After studying with his father and Gerard Dou, and becoming a member of the Guild of Painters at Leyden, he went to Amsterdam, where he died some time after 1667. This part of his life is shrouded in mystery; it is only known that the above date is the latest one on any work of his. As a painter there is that same clean mark of refinement in ^letsu's pictures that is found in Ter Borch's; but he lacks the intellectual grasp of the greater man. Even in his scenes from the kitchen and the market he never loses that delicate touch which elevates and refines the subject. No man knew better METSU— JAN VER MEER 219 how to balance every oljject on the canvas with more pleasing effect than he. One of his figure pieces that illustrates this point admirably is "The Family of Gelfing" (Fig. 149), in the Royal Gallery, Berlin. Notice how the nurse and hahy on the right are offset by the window seen through the doorway; the little girl, dog, and cat on the left, by the lady's foot, the dog, and little girl on the right. How cleverly he has brought out the details of the objects on the left, to balance the large number of figures on the right! We ha^-e a little of the Rembrandt lighting, but all the colors are kept clear and di.stinct, and the scale of color is fine. The handling of this portrait group is particular!}' deli- cate and picturesque; and the expression of animation and refinement on each face gives a personality that at- tracts us. In the Louvre is one of iletsu's best pictures, en- titled "Un Militaire Rece- vant une Jeune Dame" (Fig. 150). Again we find the same wonderful balance — object for oljject — with a diagonal tendency skillfully managed. How the atmosphere intensifies the space back of the woman and ]H>y and neutralizes any feeling of ponderousness behind the oflicer! The nojjle Ijearing of the man, gentle grace of the young woman, and child-like interest of the boy could not he surpassed. Jan ver ;\Ieer of Delft was born in 1632. From the time of this artist's death in 167.5 until half a century ago, he practically dropped out of existence because of the omission of his name from a work on the Netherland Painters, by Houljraken, in 1718. A French critic, W. Biirger, greatly admired Ver ]Meer's . 150. — Mel.-ii. Un Militaire Recevant vine -ieune Dame. Louvre. Paris. •220 DUTCH PAIXTING art, and tonk great jDains to establish his standing for us to-day; he needed no "second" in his own day, for he then stood at the front with the "Little Dutchmen." One very strong char- acteristic of Ver Meer was his manner of placing the figures in the very foreground of his canvas and cutting off the upper and lower part of the room so that we stand directl}' in front of the person or persons represented. This is a daring thing to do, but an artist who so thoroughly understood himself as Ver Meer did, could handle the theme and show us the scene as we really see it in real life. The pictureof "A Young Woman Opening a Win- dow" (Fig. 1.51), in the ^letropolitan ^luseum. New York City, illustrates his manner of placing the scene before us. We fairly intrude oiu'selves into the ver}- pres- ence of the ^A'oman without her ]3ermission or knowledge even. Of course it is unfair, but who could resist looking in at that young woman? Her perfect unconsciousness of being observed is the great charm that attracts us. How was it possible that "\'er ^Meer could make so simple a scene so charming? What magic does he possess that compels admiration? Surely only the most commonplace aiticles are displayed! True, the exc[uisite color of the plush table cover and bright metal of ewer and basin are fine. But what would that be without Ver fleer's marvelous light — blue liglit enveloping this room? The whole picture is full of light, so that e^■en the articles in the shadows have the colors blended hai-moniously. Light in his pictures seems to he a living, mov- ing presence. He has represented it with such fidelity to nature that we are amazed at his masterful skill. He is most oriiiinal in his use of color, especially when he contrasts a tender Fig. 1.51. — ^'e^ Meer. -\ Yuung Woman Oi)eninga Window. .Metroiiolitan Museum, New York C'it.\'. PIETER DE H(J(_)(;'H 221 shade of yellow against blue — the latter being his most char- acteristic color. He makes his shadows of "moonlight blue,"' and in these he puts his rich colored draperies, hangings, and table covers. Ver Meer's paintings are scattered among nearly all the picture galleries of northern Elurope, and it is our good fortune that we have this one in New York City. There are artists who hang out a sign, as it were, by which to identify their pictures. Pieter de Hooch is one of these men; he almost invariably has a checked or plaid floor, and pictures his indoor scenes with rooms having open doors through which can be seen a I'oom or court be- yond — all with the checkered fl o o r. His subjects are usu- ally commonplace, but never coarse or vulgar. No artist in Holland gives a truer hist or}' of the domestic life of the Dutch people. He has made the hum- ble homes beauti- Fiu 15::. — Pieter ile Hmnli. A Dutcli Inleric Metropolitan Muyeuin, New York City. ful With, the bright sunlight falling across the polished floors, and the rare rich garnets and deep j'el- lows softened by the surrounding atmosphere. No artist ever loved light, pure and simple, better; his figures were not put in to tell a story — often they seem to be an afterthought — but to help bring out the effects of the sunlight. No one ever painted sunlight with a more personal quality than did De Hooch; the sun in his hand was a magic wand. There is something m}'steri- ous and lovable about all his pictures. The home element is always present. De Hooch was born in 1630; he lived in Delft until al^out 1658, and was in Amsterdam as late as 1670, and died some time Ijefore the next decade — tliat is all that is known of his personal •2-22 DUTCH PAIXTIXG liistoiy. That he was a pupil of Rembrandt is a debated ques- tion and one that each person is at liberty to settle for himself. We do know that where\'er his brush touches the canvas it is as though the sun was let in, and every object begins to sing with joy. "A Dutch Interior" (Fig. 152), in the ^Metropolitan Museum, New York City, is a good example of De Hooch's power to make a picture of the most ordinary circumstances of daily life. Nothing is commonplace after his brush has touched it — the little maid, as she stops to talk to the pet dog, exactly Fk:. 153. -Netsehcr. The Song Accomi)anieil by tlie Piano. Dre^ilen Gallery. fits tiie i)lace given her, and the look of interest on the face of the woman gives just the human element needed. Through the open door and window the warm sunlight comes to give the finishing touch to the artist's work. Caspar Netscher was born at Heidelberg in 1639, and, although a German by birth, settled at The Hague when he was twenty years old, and became thoroughly identified with the Dutch school. His pictures are mostly interiors of Dutch homes and show great taste and refinement of treatment. He was particularly happy in the portrayal of rich stuffs, whether they were used in draperies, table covers, men's apparel, or CASPAR NETSCHER 223 ladies' gowns. The "Song Accompanied by the Piano" (Fig. 153), in the Dresden Gallery, shows him at his best in this special line. While the fabrics are given due prominence they have not interfered with other qualities of the painting that make it a real work of art. The enamel-like finish of the poi- traits of the young women has given them the delicate quality of miniatures. In the grouping of the figures anci the effect- ive handling of the few accessories Netscher has proved him- self a genius. Note the expression of boyish humor on the face of the youngster with the salver. Nothing has escaped his keen eyes of the wiles used to catch the much-bedecked and becurled gallant. The charms of music are not the only charms necessary to effect a conquest. Certainly this genre painter understands human nature and has the artistic skill of inter- pretation that makes even listening to the practicing of a song interesting. CHAPTER XXIV VAN GOYEX — RUISDAEL — HOBBEMA — POTTER — WOUVERMAX — CUYP VAN DE VELDE WEEMX ISRAELS — MAUVE THE landscape painters of Holland are peculiarly interesting as the forerunners of the landscape painters developed by the Barbizon school, in France. Landscape painting, like all other specialized art., was a growth; the beginnings were Fig, 154. — Jan van (ioyen. .Summer on the River. Dresden Gallery. crude and the progress in the art slow. Just how the Dutch produced two such geniuses as Ruisdael and Hobbema would l^e an interesting study of the influence of very early artists on succeeding generations. We realize from their works that the crude age is passed and tliat masterpieces are before us. The influence of these men can Ije traced to England and into France, where landscape painting reached its height in such men as Corot and Daubigny. Of course landscapes had been used as a background for centuries, but not until the painters of the 224 JAN VAN GOYEN— RUISDAEL 225 *■ Ji Netherlands began to look at nature as something more than a setting for a picture, did it become a picture itself. Jan van Goyen, who was born at Leyden in 1596, was one of the best of the earliest landscape painters of the seventeenth centurj'. He was fond of giving water scenes, with shipping and small boats filled with people, offset with houses coming down to the water's edge. His color was rather monotonous, but he harmonizes his figures with their surroundings and finishes his work most skillfully. There is a silvery quality to the water which reflects a beautiful bright light enlivening the whole picture. "Summer on the River" (Fig. 154), in the Dresden Gallery, is a fine example of his white light on the water. Possibly he is a little too anxious to have the people in the boat tell what they are doing, but that does not detract from the old stone build- ing, the mill, and the ships in the dis- tance. How well he has observed the laws of perspective in his selection of objects — each is in its right place and the most natural place too! Ruskin's criticism that "we look too much at the earth and not enough at the sky" would not apply to Van Go3'en, for he has given mari-elous cloud effects in his paintings. The title "Cloud Effects" would designate the "Marine View" (Fig. 155) much more accurately. In no country could he have had spread before him such glories in sky scenery as in Holland, witli its abundance of moisture and glorious sunlight. The personal life of Jacob van Ruisdael is almost a sealed book to us. Although he stands at the head of the Dutch landscape school, yet he could not have been appreciated by his countrymen, for it is said that he died in the almshouse at Fig. lot -Jan van Gujen. Marine \n 226 DUTCH PAIXTIXG Haarlem in 1682 when less than sixty years old. If he knew tlie great artists of his time he must have been overshadowed by them. His works show the influence of the romantic land- scapes of both the North and the South. Many of his scenes are taken from around Haarlem. A man of strong imagina- tion, he pictures this Dutch country as seen in the glorious days of full summer or early spring. We love his landscapes, and, while he may not bring us so near to nature's heart as his younger contemporary Hobbema, yet we feel soothed and com- forted by his scenes. If we compare his " Mill " with Hobbema's, possibly we feel a little more of the melancholy in Ruisdael, and the sunlight in Hobbema. Ruis- dael is at his best when he is inter- preting nature pure and simple. He could hardly have chosen a more secluded corner of na- ture than "The Thicket" (Fig. 156), and yet how beautiful he has made that spot! The dense foliage of the cluster of bushes and half- grown trees, with the bordering roadway extending out into the sunshine, creates in us a longing to be with the man and his dogs as he trudges along to the farmhouse or the village beyond, ^leindert Hobbema was contemporary with Ruisdael and possibly his pupil, but was the better painter of the two, although he lacked the imagination of his master. Hobbema loved sun- light; he sifted it through trees and reflected it on pools where- ever it was possible. His influence in England, where most of his paintings are, was very marked on Constable, the exponent of English landscape painting early in the nineteenth century. It was through this channel that the influence of the Dutch Fig. 156. — Jacob van Ruisdael. The Thicket. HOBBEMA 227 landscape painters was felt in France. Hobljema was such a careful student of nature that every leaf and twig was noticed, which often gives a feeling of hardness, and this, with his sifted sunshine, a spottiness, to his pictures that is open to criticism. He is a master who was carefully studied by Rous- seau, Dupre, and Diaz, and from him they learned how to brighten their pictures, but often in their works is seen the same hardness and spottiness. Hobbema was |)roba))ly born Fig. 157. — Hobbema. The Avenue, National Gallery, London. at Amsterdam in 1638, although a number of towns would gladly claim him now that his standing as a painter is estab- lished. He lived at Haarlem for a time, but came back to Amsterdam, where he spent the last of his days in po\'ert}' and obscurity and died while lodging in the Roosgraft in 1709, the same street where Rembrandt died poor and neglected forty years before. It is only at Rotterdam that Hobbema is repre- .sented in his own country. Onh' a genius who felt that he kne\\' how to handle liis material would have dared to make a jjicture of a fe^v feather- duster trees, with some well-culti^■ated fields and barns as 228 DUTCH PAINTING accessories. But that he has succeeded is proved in "The Avenue, IMiddleharnis, Holland" (Fig. 157), in the National Gallery, London. ;\Ir. Cole, who has made such a wonderful engraving of it, says, "Above all, it is the sky which holds us here; we feel the vastness of the immense vault of heaven." How perfectly those scraggy trees bordering the gray, dusty road lead the eye off to the distant town, where the church tower is a silhouette against the low horizon! In this typical Dutch scene Hobbema has given a glimpse of his native land Fig. 158.— Potter. The Young Bull. Picture Gallery, The Hague, Holland that beckons us so strongly we need no second invitation to wander with him over that fascinating country. Paulus Potter (1625-1654) was really the first Dutch painter to introduce animals into his landscapes, so that his i)ictures became animal-landscape pictures. His "Young Bull" (Fig. 158), in The Hague Galler}-, is probably one of the most ill- deserving of any ])icture ever raved over by the general public. How nmch longer it will be counted in with the ten great paintings of tlie world is a cjuestion. That famous galleiy of The Hague, so full of the masterpieces of the great Rembrandt, has nothing that so attracts the typical tourist as Potter's "Bull." Where one sightseer will stand before "The School of Anatomy" or "Simeon in the Temple," a dozen will go in rap- tures over "The Bull," with e.xclamations of "How natural!" POTTER— WOUVERMAX 229 and " Doesn't he stand out?" Yes, as Mr. ^'an Dyke says, " the bull seems in some danger of falling out of the frame." The drawing of the young animal is indeed good; but look at the cow and sheep; could anything be more woodeny? Potter was but twenty-two when he painted this picture, so many of the imperfections are due to his lack of training and experience. He lived only seven years longer, but during his fourteen 3'ears of real work as an artist he painted over a hundred pictures and made a large number of etchings. While he may have Fic, 159. — Wouvennan. The Return frum the Hunt. Dresden Ciailcry. been called the "Raphael of animals," he bore no resemblance to that master as a young genius. Philips Wouverman (1619-1668) has so constantly placed a white horse in his pictures — on which to concentrate his light — that it has been a common mistake to attribute every Dutch picture with a white horse in it to Wouverman. Such a constant use of one theme in his works has given just ground for the accusation of too much mannerism for high art. There has been much diversity of opinion about his paintings, yet it is hardly necessary to treat them with contempt, as did Ruskin; or to give them such high praise as to say, in the words of an- other critic, "It is not easy to know which most to admire, the beauty of the composition and grouping, the brilliancy and clear tone of their coloring, or their wonderful variety." When 230 DUTCH PAINTING looking at such an example of his work as "The Return from the Hunt" (Fig. 159), in the Dresden Gallery, we feel that he is a faithful chronicler of the low-lying country of his nativity. There is the same marshy land with the waterways cutting through it up to the very entrance of the houses; the same expansive sky that so characterizes Holland; the same gray- brown color with an undertone of green that water-soaked logs Fig. 160. — Aelhert Cuyi La Promenade. Louvre, l^aris. and stones naturally assume — again the spell of Holland is upon us. The one artist of the seventeenth century who represented all the different phases of art was Aelbert Cuyp; and yet he was not a dilettante because of his varied talents. Cuyp was a man of independent means, which allowed him to follow what- ever inclination he wished; whether it was to paint a portrait, compose a landscape, execute a still-life, produce a marine, or make an animal picture. In an}- one of these lines he far exceeded the mediocre, and if he had followed any one branch exclusively he would have had few equals, if any superior. Cuyp ^^■as born at Dordrecht in 1620, and died on his own estate near tliat town in 1691. We probably know him best by his landscapes; these he bathed in light so yellow and mel- VAX DE VELDE 231 low, that they remind lis of the wai-m, misty summer days in a valley along some river bank. Tlie painting of "La Prome- nade" (Fig. 160), in the Louvre, is one of several pictures of the same subject, each one having its own peculiar charm. Aery picturesque are the vivid-colored costumes worn so jauntily Ijy the horsemen and their attendant. This painting illustrates the diagonal arrangement of his compositions that is so pro- nounced a feature of his landscapes. There is no sacrifice of Fig. 161. — Van de Velde. The Sea with Shipiiing. Picture Gallery, The Hague. the landscape in this picture to emphasize the animals. It is too bad that the men have such a conscious air of posing for their portraits, but they could have had no more excjuisite .setting than tho.se fine old trees with the leafy Ijranches grow- ing to their very roots, and the distant reach of the valley below. Cuyp was too much of a genius to ever be anything but himself in whatever line he worked. It would have Ijeen strange, indeed, if Holland had not produced some marine painters, as her very country is a product 232 DUTCH PAINTIx\G of the sea. ilany of the landscape artists painted seascapes, but the man who excelled in that particular Une was Willem van de Velde, or Van de Velde the Younger, as he was often called. He was born in Amsterdam in 1633. He must have spent much of his young life watching the ships lying at anchor in the quiet harbor, for many of his paintings show that he loved this quiet, and preferred the drooping sail to that filled with the breeze of the open sea. He studied at first with his father and then later went with him to England and entered the service of Charles II., which necessitated his painting Eng- lish fleets rather than Dutch ones. His con- stant study of the sea made him able to give its various moods and always with equal success. When .she was a rendezvous for sister ships he quieted her waters j ust enough for small boats to pass to and fro. What a friendly air he can give to "The Sea with Shipping" (Fig. 161)! The gentle breeze is just enough to keep the sails from being useless. The ships rock lazilj' as they lie at anchor, and as they swing around, facing us, we see how carefull}' he has painted each rope and masthead; even the crest on the bow is visible. During the last half of the seventeenth century there were a number of artists in Holland who devoted their talents to painting still-life; they chose their subjects from more or less trivial things, but they painted with a patience and painstaking exactness that were quite in keepingwith thelater Dutch school. In the Louvre is a painting by Jan Weenix called "The Sea- port" (Fig. 162), that is a good example of the kind of work these artists did. The "harmonious coloring and technical Fig. 162. — Jan Weenix. The Seaport. Louvre, Paris. JAN WEENIX 238 trutlifulness" of the still-life liere i-epresented could not be finer, l)ut this kind of a production would hardly be classed with the vigorous, life-inspiring works of Rembrandt's time. The whole character of the Dutch nation has changed with the change from a republic to a kingdom, and nothing shows it plainer than the art. Possibly .Jan Weenix is as good an example of the still-life artist as any one, and has given as carefuU}' wrought-out pictures. He was boi'n in Amsterdam in 1640, lived most of his life in his native town, and died there in 1719. Like his father, who was an artist, he sometimes combined his v|i ' J^^^M^- iS V jMi kkL l^p 1 ga,^■«LW;J»^^^l - - ^-. "'- -J Fit;. 163 -Jo^ef Israels. The Evening Meal, still-life with a landscape, luit most of his pictures are of dead game. From the painters of the se\'enteenth century, until we come to those of the nineteenth century, there is very little of Dutch art worth considering. After a hundred years in a dormant state, new life seems to have entered the Netherlands and rou.sed the artist instinct that had been sleeping. True to tlie traditions of the past, the awakened artist took up his brush from where the seventeenth-century artist laid it down, and again began to give us the genre picture. These people of strong individualitv have something definite in mind to accom- 234 DUTCH PAIXTIXG plish,and they set about doing it in their own way, whether that way belongs to the present or two hundred years past. To really appreciate the Dutch pictures one must see these genre pictures in their own country, where life now is much the same as it was in Rembrandt's day. The artist to-day who has most fully entered into the spirit of the past in his pictures is Jo.sef Tsraels. His painting, "Alone in the World," which was at the World's Fair at Chicago, probably held the interest of the American people better than any other picture on exhibition. True, it tells a story, but one so full of pathos and world-wide grief that the heart of humanity is drawn to the poor, lonely Fig. 164. — Mauve. Shepherd with Sheep. Metropolitan Museum, New York City. old man. Israels reminds us of the French ^fillet. The home element in his paintings is very strong e^'en in the homeliest surroundings. What an air of comfort he has given to "The Evening ileal" (Fig. 163)! The very naturalness of the scene is one of its greatest charms. He uses color so effectively that it enters intimately into every object, and becomes an integral part of the whole scene. Possibly he may be a little heavy in the handling, but he certainly knows how to draw just the right effect from a humble scene, whether that scene is in the open field freshly plowed by the coarse, I'ough peasant; or the dark, smoky interior of some half-tumbled-down old house with its inmates in rags. Israels was born at Amsterdam in 1S24, but has lived most of his life at The Hague. ANTONIN ^VL-^UVE 235 Possib!}' no Dutch artist to-day is bettei' known in America than Antonin Mauve (1838-1888) through his paintings of sheep. His color scheme is pleasing and his sentiment truth- ful, but it is doubtful if his present popularity will stand the test of time. His paintings ha-\'e Ijeen exhibited in the salons in Paris and in the exhibitions in this country. In the Jletropol- itan Museum, are several examples of his work, possibly none more typical than the "Shepherd with His Sheep" (Fig. 164). Mauve has evidently been among sheep himself or he never could have been so true to nature in huddling them together and in showing the limpness of the lamb under the shepherd's arm. FLEMISH PAINTING Fir., lSO.^E.ubenri. Tlie JJe.sceiit frum the L'rus.-.. Aiit\veri> L'atheLlral. — ."See page 255. CHAPTER XXV THE VAN EYCKS — ^•AN DER fl'EYDEN — MEMLINC THE very early history of Holland and Belgium is the same for each covmtry. They were both fretting under Span- ish rule, and using their utmost power to throw off the Spanish yoke. They were both contending for freedom of thought and action. In fact the Netherlands were one country and one people until their common enemy was overcome. It was only when freedom came that the different characteristics of those people living in the south began to mark and separate them from those living in the north countr}'. When Holland made a stand for freedom she became a Protestant country through and through, and no amount of persecution or persuasion could move her one iota. The constant fight with her natural enemy — the sea — gave her a sense of independence which her southern neighbors could not attain. When Belgium found hei'self free from the dominating power of the Spanish — and comparati\'ely free from being overcome by the waters on the west — her less pure Dutch blood and her natural lack of energy made her more susceptible to the influ- ences of her surrounding neighljors, and to the religion of the Church of Rome — left her Ijy the Spanish rulers. All through the development of painting in Belgium it is easy to trace the influence of the Catholic Church; for the Flemish artists were more willing to follow her dictates than to assert their inde- pendence and make an art of their own, as did their more sturdy l^rothers of the north. This people, in whose veins was the blood of the Spanish, the French, and the Austrian people, loved the luxuries of life; and, as prosperity smiled on them, they entered heartily into the gayety and brilliant display of the fete day. The triumphal processions, so characteristic of the Catholic Church of southern countries, appealed to them. 2.39 240 FLEMISH PAIXTIXG They loved magnificent stuffs, sparkling jewels, and rich colors as only a people could who combined in them the deep passions of the north with the sensuous love of the south. Their art was a reflection of themselves; they put into it all the luxuriance and splendor that they enjoyed in their great pi'osperity. The Flemish miniature painters of the sixteenth centuiy brought this branch of art to wonderful perfection. Their skill in the elaboration of the border evinces great ingenuity. Into this fi'amework they have introduced flowing laranches which terminate in exquisite foliage, delicate flowers, bi-illiant-colored insects and birds, and through the whole have interspersed rich jewels. It is possible that this miniature painting of the Flemish was first taken from the French. Whether this is true or not, no artists have left more elaborate or more beauti- ful work in this line. A choice bit from a "Breviary" (Fig. 165), of the earlj' sixteenth century, can be seen in the British ^luseum, Lon- don. The quaint little scene in the center — "The Flight into Egypt" — has many earmarks of the south, combined with the new element brought from the north. The deco- rations in the border are curious and elaborate. In the little medallion picture on the left, possibly the artist has in mind the old legend which says that when the Hoty Family were fleeing into Elgypt, they stopped at a wayside inn for rest and food. On departing the Virgin said to the innkeeper: "If we are pursued and you are asked if a man, woman, and child have passed this way, tell them yes, when the corn ■\^•as being planted." As this was literally true, the man was veiy much troubled. In a few hours the pursuei's came and the inn- kee]:)er answered as he had promised; but \\iien he looked up, behold, the corn was ready to reap! Many of the old legends are represented in the art of Flanders. Fig. 165. — From a Breviary. British Museum, London. HUBERT AND JAN VAN EYCK 241 It has been thought that to the Flemish belonged the in\ en- tion of oil painting, but critics think differentl)' to-day. In the story of the life of the pai-ents of Erasmus, as told by Charles Reade in the "Cloister and the Hearth," the author says that ^largaret van Eyck, the sister of Hubert and Jan, gave to the young hero — the father of Erasmus — the wonderful secret of the mixture of the pigments with oil, as discovered by liei- lirothers. The young artist was to use this secret as an intro- duction to the Italian artists. These brothers, Huljeit and Jan van Eyck, while they did not invent oil painting, yet their use of oil to produce brilliancy in color, gave a staljility to their work that was most acceptable in the art of picture making. The works of the artists before the ^'an Eycks, except the miniatures and illuminations, are lost or were destroyed by the Iconoclasts, so that real Flemish art begins with these brothers. Little is known of the pei'sonal histoiy of these men but that they were born at JMaaseyck during the second half of the fourteenth century and died before the middle of the fifteenth century — Hubert in 1426, and Jan in 1440. The one ■\\'ork b}' which the Van Eycks \\'ill ever be remem- Ijeied is the St. Bavon altar-piece, "The Adoration of the Lamb" (Fig. 166), at Ghent, Belgium. There were tueh'e panels, made so that they could be closed together as a screcji. This composition is wonderful not only as a work of art, 1iut for its almost miraculous preservation from harm. It passed unharmed through the vandalism of the Protestants in 1556; through a fire in 1641 ; through ))eing closed to the world because of the nude figures of Adam and Eve; through being carried off to the LouA're by order of Napoleon; through its return in 1814, when the central panel was put in its original place and the side ones hid in a cellar; through years of dampness, befoie the middle side panels were sold, and finally reached the Bei'lin Gallery; through more years in the cellar, when the Adam and Eve panels w'ere sold and landed in the Brussels Gallery in 1860. Copies of the original panels were made to replace those at Berlin and Brus.sels; nfiw the altar-piece is in its old place in the little chapel of the stately Chui'ch of St. Bavon, (ihent. It is a great pity, however, that the original panels cannot be 242 FLEMISH PAINTING returned to their old home. No words of praise are too great for this beautiful painting; the color is so pure and harmonious, and the whole subject is worked out with such tender, loving care that it represents jDure religion as well as a perfect work of art. In singling out special points of technic we find the figures of Adam and Eve awkward and clumsy, lacking the warm flesh tints that would make them attractive; but look i;':^H| p^n>«n-' Fig. 166. — Hubert and Jan van Eyck. The Adoration of the Lamb. Ghent, Belgium. at the faces in the choir of the side panels; how beautiful many of them are and how well modeled! All the Van Ejxk pic- tures show the wonderful success of these brothers in mixing colors, giving rise to the term " the purple of Van Eyck," which stands with "the gold of Titian" and "the silver of Veronese." The "Mrgin and Donor" (Fig. 167) by Jan van Eyck, in the Louvre, is a fine example of the "downright veracity, the clear insight, and untrembling directness" of the northern artist in representing the .Madonna and Child. Compare this with ROGER VAX DER WEYDEX 243 the spiritual loveliness of Fra Angelico's Madonnas. One is the earthly mother, proud of her baby and quite willing to accept the homage of Chancellor Rollin — the kneeling donor; the other the Virgin with the Divine Child, full of humility and heavenly sweetness. The brocaded velvet and jeweled orna- mentation, the carved capitals and delicate flowers, are all painted with the most careful attention. Roger van der Weyden (1400V-1464) was much younger than the Van Eyck brothers and may possibl}' have been a pupil of theirs; at least he produced a very similar art. The emotional and dramatic appealed to him most strongly, as can readily be seen in his scenes from the life of Christ. These religious pictures are full of sincerit}' and honest feel- ing, even if the figures are awkward and the drawing rather peculiar. It is ap- parent in his pictures that many of the traditions of the early Church have Ijeen remembered by these Chris- tians of the north. In the painting of "The Naming of the Little St. John" (Fig. 168), in the Berlin iluseum, the halo around the head of the woman who holds the baby carries out the belief that the Virgin j\huy remained with Elizabeth until after the birth of her child. Notice the solicitude of the nurse, in the background of the picture, as she leans over the bed where Elizabeth is lying. Her attitude is the embodiment of tenderness, even if her figure is awkward and the drapery stiff. How much the round archway with the gray stone decorative designs, the erect statues, and the straight pillars enhance the values of the brilliant colors, and the sense of distance through the window and door beyond. Van der We\xlen was one of the first northern artists to Fig. 167. — Jan van Eyck. The Virgin an'ck said: "Your portrait is finished." When the 258 FLEMISH PAINTING surprised Hals looked at the picture he exclaimed: "Either you are the devil or Van Dj-ck." One of the best examples of Van Dyck's sacred subjects is "The JIadonna and the Donors" (Fig. 182), in the Louvi-e. In this picture he has combined the portrait and figure piece, but has failed to produce the most harmonious result in the unity of the com- position. Nothing could be more beau- tiful, however, than the unconscious grace of the little Christ Child leaning so lovingly toward the devout donor, whose whole atti- tude is one of sin- cere devotion. Aside from these two fig- ures there is little to mark the relig- ious element. The woman on the right is simply posing for her portrait; she is dignified and well bred, as Van Dyck's sitters alwaj's are, and has the beauti- ful hands that are so characteristic of all his people. The curtain across the left upper corner of the picture gi^-es the unique effect that he so often produces in emphasizing his background. Possil)ly no picture tliat was e^'er painted has been before the ]3ul_)lic more constantly for the la.st twenty-five years than has \^an Dyck's "Baby Stuart." It is in almost every kinder- garten and primary school of this land. Although so well known, one wonders how manv of the teachers, even, could tell Fir., 182. — Van Dyck, The Madonna and Donors. Louvre, Paris. ANTHONY VAN DYCK 259 who the Uttle fellow is who looks out upon life so demurely, holding fast to the ball in his hand. To know the history of "Bab}' Stuart" would be to know the history of one of the most troublous times of England. In 1649, when this boy was sixteen, he experienced the most fearful tragedy of life in the execution of his father, Charles I. When fifty-two he became Fig. 183.— Van Dyck. The Children of Charles I. Picture Gallery. Turin, Italy. James II., King of p]ngland. The " Bal^y Stuart" portrait is taken from the picture in the Turin Gallery of "The Children of Charles I." (Fig. 183). The little fellow is still more attrac- iWe as he stands there with his royal brother and sister — Charles II. and Wary, mother of William III. of England. One can scarcely credit the fact, when looking into these inno- cent faces, that, "once parted in life, these children were destined never to meet in amity." Van D}-ck has represented the inno- 260 FLEMISH PAINTING cence of childhood in these roj-al babies, but to that innocence lie has added the subtle power of inherited sovereignty. In- stinctively he has harmonized the nature and pose of the little ones to the gorgeously spangled satins and silks of dress and drapery. Even the dog has a dignity befitting the caress of the royal hand resting on his head. Jacob Jordaens, who was born at Antwerp in 1.593, was a personal friend of Rubens and very naturally fell into Rubens' style with his art. If his nature had had that quality f)f refinement that assimilates the good only, he might have Fig. 184. — Jordaens. Driving Out the Money Lenders. Louvre, Paris taken rank with his friend, but as it was he has been called "a vulgar Rubens." He had a certain vigor of conception and force in color that accorded well with the gross realism of his sulijects. His religious pictures were not of a religious nature except in name. This is specially true of his painting of "Driving Out the ;\Ioney Lenders" (Fig. 184), in the Louvre, Paris. There is not the least semblance of righteous indigna- tion in the Savior's face and manner that would lead one to suspect that the Temple of the Lord was being desecrated. The picture is a scene of riotous confusion of animals and human lieings. The color is vivid, the action energetic, and the composition uni(|ue. Some uf the individual figures ai'e DAVID TENIER8 261 strongly marked with Rubens' traits, with here and there a beautiful face and well-drawn animal. The third greatest master in Belgium was David Teniers, the younger, who was born in Antwerp in 1610. He was the greatest of the genre painters of his own country and his \\'ork would compare favorably \\\i\\ the "Little Masters of Hol- land," who were doing their best work during his lifetime. Teniers painted almost every subject, but really excelled in his pictures of low life as found among the ta\'ern frefpienters. The scenes from the village squares are full of life and action; Fig. 185. — Teniers. The Village FSte. Dresden Gallery. the handling is good and the color is often of that soft silver hue that relieves the coarseness of the suljject. He sho\\'s the influence of Rubens in his work even if he was not his pupil. Teniers married a daughter of "Velvet" Brueghel. He was a prodigious worker, as he himself declared that it would need a gallery two leagues in length to contain all his pictures. The "Milage Fete" (Fig. 185), in the Dresden Gallery, is one of his happiest portrayals of a convivial company. The realism of this scene marks Teniers as a true student of nature, and one who had a keen insight into the motives of his fellow man. Greuze said of him: " Show me a pipe, and I will tell you if the smoker is bv Teniers." 2(;2 FLEMISH PAIXTIXG Sii- Peter Lely (1618-1680) was born in Germany, received ]iis art training in Haarlem, lived most of his life in England, and was proliably of Flemish extraction. His position in the court of Charles II. was what ^'an Dyck's was in the court of Charles I. The collection of portraits at Hampton Court glows with tlie fair beauties from Sir Peter's brush. While they lack the sterling genuineness of \'an Dyck's court ladies the}' have a delicate touch of coquetry that is all their own. When Sir Peter chose Cromwell and Nell Gwyn as subjects for his facile brush he con- nected his own name and fame with the two most noted characters of the reign of Charles II. His portrait of "Nell Gwyn" (Fig. 186), in the National Gallerj', has so ennobled the woman that her frail- ties are all but forgotten in our admiration for the beautiful picture. The elegant simplicity in the draping of the rich robe over the dainty undergar- ment, the perfect contour of the sloping shoulders, and the r|ueenly pose of the head, A\ith the soft, warm flesh tints and silken brown hair, are so charmingh' portrayed that we, too, are under the spell of this beauty. The most noted Dutch-Flemish artist to-day is Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema. He was born in Holland in 1836, studied painting in Antwer]), and was adopted by the English when he came to London to make his home in 1869. Tadema is a law unto liimself, but unfortunately has assumed a mannerism in liis e^•er-present marble that is no more to be admired in a ]iicture tlian in people. As a portrayer of Egyptian scenes he Cjuite equals witli liis luaish, the word pictures of his personal 186.— Leiy. Nell Gwyn. Gallery, London. National ALlU-TADEilA 208 friend, George Eliers. How well he recalls the story of Cleo- patra's ingeniously planned scheme to captivate the war}- ruler in his picture of "Cleopatra .Meeting Antony" (Fig. 187). Word had been brought to the ruler at Tarsus that the beau- tiful queen was coming up the Cydnus. But when he sent her Fig. 187. — Alma-Tadema. Cleopatra Meeting Anthony. his urgent request that she come to him, Ivm' ^\el] she urges him on while holding herself aloof by saying that she hoped to see him her guest first. The artist has transferred the scene to canvas at just the moment when Antony has yielded and is under the fascination of the most capti^'ating and artful woman history has ever known. Alma-Tadema is one of the very few artists who has been knighted by King Edward VII. SPANISH PAINTING Fi.;. 194.- -.MuriUu. The Immaculate Conceptit of the Louvre, Paris. ^.S>e page 2' Salou Carr*? CHAPTER XXVIII RIBERA VELASQUEZ — MUEILL(J — (:< lYA — FORTUNY — MADRAZO ALTHOUGH Spain is geographically a southern country, fX yet she modifiecl her manners and customs so much in her years of contact with the people of the Netherlands, that she forms a sort of connecting link between the north and south. Being the birthplace of Ignatius Loyola, the founder of the society of the Jesuits, Spain was brought very close to the Church of Rome, for this society was a most powerful and persistent medium through which the religion of the Catholic Church was spread. Out of the excessive zeal in promoting the Church of Christ the Inquisition was intensified — a name suggesting everything that is horiil)le; to even mention it makes one shudder. These influences — the Church, with the Incjuisition at its height; Italy, with its pilgrimages to the great center — Rome; and the Spanish domination of the Netherlands — supplied the moti^•es and methods of Spanish painting at the beginning of the fifteenth century. Just what the early art of Spain was can onh- be surmised. When the country was ruled by the ]\Ioors, the art of that people must have prevailed; but the iconoclastic spii-it swept over the land, leaving ruin in its wake; then, too, the Inquisition was a destructive agent. When Spain realh- began to found an art of her own, it was not the traditions of the past that governed her, but the influences at work in the present. There was almost constant travel Ijetween Spain and the Nether- lands, and between Spain and Italy, which gave to the Spanish art student the art methods of both the north and the south; the Church asserted her right to dictate the kind of art, while the home artist had his own most decided views; out of all this came an art that was derivative in method, but decidedly Spanish in spirit. 267 ■26^ SPAXISH PAIXTIXG The great centers of art in Spain were Toledo, Seville, Cor- do\-a, Cii'anada, and ^ladrid; all these names call up vivid pictures in the history of Spain. While Spain was reaching her greatest political height, Italy was declining, ^'ery little is known of the history of the Spanish artists until the beginning of the seventeenth century, when Spain emerged from her isolated state, and her political power, literature, and art took their stand with the other countries of Europe. There were scores of painters of the different schools of the earlier centuries whose names and works were well known to their own country- men, but the artists who are as familiar to the world at large as those of Italy and the Netherlands are Ribera, ^'elascjuez, and Murillo. Jose Ribera was born in 1588, about ten years after Rubens of Belgium, and a little more than ten years before Rembrandt of Holland. It is scarcely possible for three men to have been more unlike in character, training, and work than these three artists were. Though Ribera was born in Spain, he spent much of his time in Italy under the influence of Caravaggio — an influence that fostered his instinctive love of the horrible — a possible inheritance from the Inc}uisition. Little wonder then that the dungeon, the torture chamber, and the gibbet fascinated him! Nothing pleased him better than to represent saints with bodies so thin and emaciated that every bone could |je counted, and every vein could be traced, while the skin glistens with a death-like pallor that comes with the excrucia- ting pain of torture. Although one shudders with horror before these scenes of human suffering, they have a fascination that compels one to look again and again. There is a boldness of design, a strength in the heaA'}- colors, that seem mixed with lilood, and a force of truth that command admiration. Were it not that he did paint the Mrgin with the Hol\- Child, as in the "Adoration of the Shepherds" (Fig. 188), in the Louvre, one would wonder if Ribera ever loved, was ever sym- pathetic, or was ever uplifted Ijy beautiful thoughts or holy aspirations. Even in the "Adoration" there is little of the S]3iritual, although the attitude of the Mrgin and shepherds is that of devotion. The sim])le rustic on the left, ^\■ith his lifted JOSE KIBEKA 269 cup, has the same look of curiosit}' that his donkey has, with his lifted ears. There is no real sincerity, no religious fervor in the liearts of the men on the right; the scene is too tame for the artist to bring out any depth of feeling on the faces or in the pose of these sturdy men. Even the contrasts of light and shadow are not so startling as is usual in his paintings. But Fn;. 18S. — Ribera. The Adoration of the Shepherds. Louvre, Paris. no one would mistake the peculiar color of the somber Spaniard; there is the same death-like jDallor in the flesh tints and the same black in the dark colors that is a telltale sign of his use of ]>igment. One turns with a sense of relief from the paintings of RiVjera to the works of Velasquez. Here are people who "live and move and have their being" with the people of the world for all time and in all places. Diego ^'elasquez de Silva was born at Seville in 1.599, the 270 SPANISH PAIXTING same year that saw the birth of Anthony van Dyck at Antwerp; he was often called the \'an Dyck of JIadrid. Velasquez became the king of painters in Spain, second to none in the world, while Van Dyck was simply a prince in Flanders who never came to the throne. To look into the face of Velasquez Fig. 189. — Vela.sciiiez. Portrait of the Arti.>t. .Munich. as shown in his "Portrait" (Fig. 189) gives one the character of the man. It is not surprising that such a man would not be dominated liy the Church or intimidated by crafty Philip lY. The clear e>-e, straight nose, and firm mouth, with that strong chin and ample forehead, mark him as a ruler of men; ;i ruler not afraid to tell the truth. VELASQUEZ 271 Velasquez was a realist in the broadest sense of the word. He painted what he saw and felt with a perception so true that humanity entered into his seeing and feeling. His methods seem so simple that even the amateur feels that he, too, could produce the same results; it is only after trial that despair mocks the amateur and the master painter alike. How true that real simplicity in any art comes not save through the most severe training. The naturalness of the child returns when self gives place to the truths that na- ture alone can teach. Velasquez's portraits are living, breathing men and women. Would it be pos- sible to ever forget the face of Philip IV. as Velasquez has given it to us? Stand before the one owned by the Marquis of Lansdowne, London (Fig. 190), and study that face for five minutes. Could one ever blot it from the memory? Look at its strange pallor, its full Austrian lips, its drooping eyes. How alive that long, thin visage is, framed in the light flowing hair and adorned with the mustaches that curl up to the very eyes! This portrait alone would have immortalized the artist; but he has given us picture after picture of this monarch; one time as a warrior, another as a huntsman, and still another as a suppliant at the Throne of Grace. Strange as it may seem, ^'elasquez was the only one to whom the fickle king remained true; for forty years it was the king's custom to visit the artist dailv when the latter was in ^Madrid at his Fig. 190.— Velasquez. Philip IV. The llarquis of Lansdowne's Collection, London. 272 SPANISH PAINTING studio in the palace. Nearly all the members of the royal family sat for their portraits, and nearly every gallery in Europe has one or more of these priceless gems. The portrait of "L'Infante Jlarguerite" (Fig. 191), in the Lou\re, is as well known to school children as "Baby Stuart." While it is said that Velasquez was the painter of men, par Fig. 191. — Velasquez. L'Infante Marguerite. Lou\Te, Paris. excellence, this picture proves that he knew the inner life of the child as well. How one is made to feel the earnest simplicity of the s-^A'eet little princess as she watches the artist at his work! She is so perfectly simple and child-like in her whole attitude, and her interest is so genuine, one forgets that it is a portrait and wonders wliat the child sees that holds her attention so closely. \'elasquez twice visited Italy, where he made a careful study VELASQUEZ 273 of the artists of the Renaissance, especially Titian. He was commissioned by Philip IV. to purchase works of art fixini tlie masters of Italy, and then to found and arrange an art galler\- in Madrid. This gallery ever since has been the richest in masterpieces and the best arranged of any art museum in the world. In the Berlin Gallery is "A Por- trait of Allesandro del Borro" (Fig. 192), which is pro- nounced to be, not only the greatest of Velasquez's por- traits, but also one of the greatest ever painted. It is t\'\'elve years since the writer first saw that picture, and }et were the man to walk along the street to-day no fa- miliar friend would be more quickly recognized. It is not the size of the man, nor his pecu- liar build; it is not that he is hanrl- some nor even at- tract i^'e in his personality, but there is a warmth of individuality, a subtle magnetism about him that compel one to take notice of liim. He lives in that room and makes his presence felt. Once seen he is never foro:otten. Fig. 192.- -Velasquez. A Portrait uf Alle.-^ainlro ilel Horro. Berlin Cialler\-- 274 SPANISH PAINTING Velasquez was the Alpha and Omega of Spanish art founded on the study of nature, having truly national characteristics. His skill in placing objects so that the air surrounds them, in grasping the salient points of color, of form, and of relative tones, whether of things or of persons, has never been sur- passed. The light and air that are the despair of many artists flow as freely from his enchanted brush as they do from their own natural sources. An artist critic says that \'elasquez was the great discoverer of values. Even the impressionists of to- day have scarcely learned the first les- sons in the use of values in producing the results required, that he taught near- ly three hundred j-ears ago. There is scarcely an artist of the se^-- enteenth century whose reputation as an artist has been subject to wider variations than has that of Bartolome Murillo. As a religious painter he stood for the Church as Velasquez did for the Court. These two men, who were so unlike in character and merit, were both l)orn in Seville, ^lurillo, who was bornthe last day of December, 1617, probably, was nearly twenty years younger than Velas- quez. His parents died while he was quite young and soon afterward he was apprenticed to his uncle, under whom he learned his first lessons in painting. When less than twenty - -I? .^^^rr> .d^'- 7^'' mmm^ 0" ■M-,- ;;•>;• _-^;i ■ ^ Fig. 193.— Muritlo. The Melon Eaters. The Finakothek. Munich. MURILLO 275 years old, however, he was left to struggle alone; being shy and unknown, he was glad to earn the merest pittance painting rough color sketches as he stood in the market place. ilurillo could have had no better place to study the habits of the ubiquitous beggar-boy of Seville than in the busj' markets. That he improved his opportunities is shown in his numerous genre pictures. "The Melon Eaters" (Fig. 193), in the Munich Pinakothek, is one of the most famous of these beggar-boy paintings. His skill in putting on canvas the feelings and manners of the little vagrants has made them .such a reality that one feels the picturesqueness of their surroundings and the charm of their existence. Happy-go-lucky little beings they certainly are, absolutely irresponsible and unmanageable. If ^lurillo had devoted all his talents to picturing the street every-day side of Spanish life, even ^'elasquez, with his portraits of nobility, could hardly have surpassed him in I■e^'ealing the methods and motives of the individual. The instinct of true genius was so strong in ^lurillo that no discouraging circumstances could deter him from becoming an artist. After years of struggle he left his native town and, wandering over the mountains, in time reached ^ladrid without money or friends. He went at once to ^^elasquez, whom he had probably never seen; the great master was so pleased with the young artist's courage and enthusiasm that he took him into his own home. It had been ilurillo's great desire to study in Italy, but he found just the lessons he needed to develop his talents with Velasquez. With his usual unflagging industry he copied the works of the great ma.sters of the Netherlands and Italy, that he found in the new art collection ordered by Philip TV., learning from them a freedom of style and strength of coloring that even ^'elasquez approved. Murillo returned to Seville Ijefore he was thirty, and almost from that time on he became the popular idol, not only of his native town and country, but of all Europe. With the sight- seer to-day this popularity is undiminished, l)ut with the thoughtful critic, who is looking for more than "skin-deep" merit, it is becoming a serious (juestion whether Murillo deserves his fame. 276 SPANISH PAINTING Having very strong religious tendencies, ]\Iurillo was devoted to the Church and to all those ceremonies established by the authorities at Rome. With all his religion, however, he was lacking in that pure spiritual nature of Fra Angelico. The excessive sweetness of his Virgins and saints savors of senti- mentalism. When one first sees the " Immaculate Conception" (Fig. 194 — see p. 266), in the Salon Carre of the Louvre, one is Fl.;. 19.3.— Murillo. St. Anthony and the Christ Child. Berlin Gallery. fascinated with the beautiful Virgin as she gazes up to heaven with the half moon under her feet. The deep blue of the mantle which falls away from her pure white gown so gracefully; the clouds surrounding her; the delicate soft pink of the baby throng that is worshiping her, all serve to make a charming ]iicture. But is there really anything to satisfy the longings •v.. . — i-'^'^^^H L.. ■ ^Mf^ .^ ^ . ^. .^^' -■^-d.js^msamlMltM Fir.. 197. — I'ortunj-. The .Scanitrh Marriage. Private Collection, Paris MADRAZO 279 realistic as Fortun}' has pictured this one. The play of light on the warm, delicate colors of the gowns worn by the bride and her maids gives a sparkle and glow to the whole room that is charming. Madrazo (1S41- ), the brother-in-law of Foituny, has more of the French in his manner of painting, although he was Fig. 19S. — .Madrazo. The Ma.=querade. a pupil of his father, who was a Spanish painter of considerable note. His picture of "The Masquerade" (Fig. 198) reminds one of the times of the three Louis, when elegance in dress and entertainment was the main thought in life. The bril- liancy of his portrait painting and the happy combination of French and Spanish traits in his figure pieces have given his pictures a specially high market price. GERMAN PAINTING Fir. 203 — Durer The Knight, Death and the Devil.— ,S« page 2SS . CHAPTER XXIX MEISTER WILHELM — DURER BEFORE treating directly of the subject of German paint- ing, an understanding of tlie origin of the school is necessary. That Christianity was the motive power which gave birth to the art of painting in the north is certain, for nothing of an artistic nature has been found before its intro- duction. At first the art of the north developed without differentiation, but by the close of the fourteenth century the Cologne school sprang up with an art peculiar to itself. This school was a combination of the characteristics of the Nether- lands on the west, the Germans on the east, and the French on the south. The city of Cologne, wdiich is often called the city of churchmen — the German's Rome — was just the city to draw together the representative, men of these countries, to fostei- their strongest individual talents, and blend them into an art that combined depth of religious feeling, strength of handling, and sweetness of expression, indicative of all three nations. Out of the Cologne school sprang two distinct schools — the German and the Flemish. One of the most beautiful pictures of the Cologne school, and one of the most beautiful pictures of the world, is the " ;\ladonna of the Bean Flower" (Fig. 199), by ^leister Wilhelm, who was probably the real founder of the school. The identity of this artist is fairly well established by the old Limburg Chronicle in the sentence where it speaks of Wilhelm, who lived aljout 1380, as one who "painted a man as though he were alive." Surely this ^ladonna is wonderfully life-like! 8he comes very close to us as a real mother and one we can love and clierisli in our inmost being. There are strength and tenderness in that sweet face, humility and submission in the folded arms, and in her whole being an expression of love and devotion for the 2S,3 284 GERMAN PAINTING Divine Child. How naturally and lovingly the Httle Jesus caresses this mother, of whom it was said, "Blessed art thou among women." One lingers long before this picture, realizing that the artist who could give to humanity such a type of pure motherhood had accepted the teaching of Christ that "Blessed are the pure in heart." This excjuisite little gem, in the Cologne Gallery, is painted as a triptych — three panels. While Rome was the center from which Germany, with the other countries of northern Europe, drew their spiritual inspira- Fh;. 199. — Meiwtcr Wilheliii. -Madonna of tlie Bean Flower. Cologne Galler\-. tion, her finished work was very strongly marked with the Teutonic element. Just how early the Germans began to u.se the art of making illuminations and miniatures is not known; Imt national characteristics came out in the work of the fifteenth century, and in the next century indi^'idual traits were so pronounced that a national tyi)e was formed. There is nothing that gives a truer index to the inborn tendencies of a people than the subjects chosen by its artists. .'Vnd these, too, often describe the native differences of coun- tries better than volumes of description could do. Could any ALBRECHT DUEER :iSft number of words picture the traits of the Germans and French so well as the fact that the artists of the former chose "The Dance of Death" as a favorite subject, and the lattei- the "Court of Love"? The series f)f forty small woodcuts (Detail, Fig, 2(J0) designed liv Hans Holbein, illustrating this grewsonie subject, is a good example of the general treatment of the theme. Tlie only other example of any note of "The Dance of Death" now left in Germany is a nie- and Germany. The Renaissance had come and gone in the south, and a new moAe- ment was started to counterbalance the work of the Reforma- tion in the north; religion was again the motive jiower in ait, I)ut, there being no original Michael Angelo mind to give new meaning to old themes, the artists simply exaggei'ated ^Aliat had gone before and — failed. The German artists had ceased to be national and were following Italian methods, so they, too, fell short. There were a few men who succeeded in pleasing the public taste and in keeping alive the art instinct, ).iut their work was very inferior in quality. Nothing indicates a decadence in art more (|uickly than when artists begin to copy nature so perfectly that the result becomes photographic, and calls forth the remark, "How natural!" which of itself implies that it is an imitation. How long would the person who is the most enthusiastic over the life-like wax figure be contented to sit and gaze in its face? And yet a portrait where the artist has caught the soul of tlie sitter will hold one for hours even if every wrinkle, mole, and eyelash has not Ijeen noted. It is strange that such a man as Balthasar Denner (1685-1747) could call forth the enthusiasm that he did as a portrait painter. Perhaps it was curiosit}' that held the attention. In looking at his portrait of the "Head of an Old ^lan" (Fig. 214), in .Munich, one is rather curious to know just how many wi'inkles there are at the corner of the eye, and if the old man's beard is as heavy as it looks. The pains Denner has taken to bring out every line, whetlier of beauty or defect, is distressing. If he had only put into those 301 aoi! GERilAX PAINTING fine large eyes of the old man that subtle something that shows the life of the inner man, how that old face would have lighted up and glowed witli intelligence! He seemed to prefer the marred and time-worn countenance of the aged rather than the rounded cheek and youthful bloom of the young. His por- traits show simply the head and upper part of the shoulders of his sitter, with almost no drapery to relie\-e the minute detail of the head. Many of the sovereigns of Europe sat to him for their portraits. Shortly after Denner laid down his microscopic brush, Angelica Kauffman (1741-1807) began her art career as a portrait painter. Again the public taste wa< pleased, but this time with sweet, pretty faces having no lines of age to mar them, or no emiDhasized features, either, to detract from the excessi-^-e sweetness of their doll-like beauty. Angelica was born in Austria, and when fifteen she was taken liy her father to ^lilan to study both music and painting. Later she traveled in Italy, where she visited Naples, Rome, and ^"en- ice; and, meeting the wife of the British Ambassador, Lady W entworth, she went with her to England. The young artist's wit, pleasing manners, and skill with her Ijrush soon won her a place in the most brilliant London society. She was honored as one of the original members of the Royal Academy, and prob- al)ly at this time began that friendship with Sir Joshua Rey- nolds which, if tradition is ti'ue, ended in Sir Joshua liecoming her lover, but not her choice, as she accepted a Swedish impos- tor from whom she was soon di\-orced. Her second marriage to a landscape painter from \'enice also proved unfortunate. The last of her life was spent in Rome, where she died in 1S07. ^B9 m ■| ^^■^^ M i I^^^H ^B^^y m ^^^^Br~',^' ' if^^SrT ^P^ ^^^H ■i-^^K^^M ^^^R^'iiliM -^-''^B Z ^^S ^^^^0^' A^^^Lii mB a^F^^^K ^^^^"^^^B '', ^^Pi^B ■ Kr^^^l 1^^^ ■ m^m Bim^ji^ H ^Hm ^^^^^^K '' ^^^^^^1 ^H ^^^^^^^1 ^^^^^^^^ J z^^^^^H 1 ^1 2U.— Denner. Head of an OM .Man. ■Munich CIaller\-. ANGELICA IvAUFFMAN 303 Angelica's art was at its best in her ideal figures; these are pleasing in both the composition of the subject and in the handling of drapery. There is a tenderness in the faces that often redeems, in part at least, the mere prettiness of flesh tone and fluffy hair and elevates them above sentinientalism. The "Vestal Virgin" (Fig. 215), in the Dresden Gallery, has a purity of conception that raises it to a high standard. The Fir.. 215. — Kauffman. Ve.stal y'iras- sionate love for nature is felt as the very essence of every one of his canvases. Another artist of this period who was the best of the early Munich masters was Carl Theodor A'on Piloty (1826-1886). He was really the founder of a school. He early acrpiired fame and influence among his German contemporaries; but very soon, howe^-er, this spirit of progress, that gave him success with his pupils, proA-ed his own t'waI and left him — the master -Bocklin. The Centaur at the Village Smithy. aotj GERMAN PAINTING —ill the rear. Piloty's strength lay in his historical canvases, where he vividly portrays scenes most realistically. He has left a monument to his genius in the decorations of the City Hall of .Munich, in which he has painted portraits of the city's prominent citizens of the past. Sometimes his realism carried him a little too far in giving too much prominence to the settings of a scene, which detracteil from the subject. In his painting of "Nero Walking among the Ruins of Rome" (Fig. 217), how- e\'er, we are reallv more interested in the results of Nero's Fi.^ -Pili.itj'. Xero Walking among the Ruins of Rome. spoliation than we are in the monster of vice himself. Piloty has ])reser\-ed the dignity and grandeur of the immortal cit}- so faithfully that e\-en her ruins are eloc[uent of her former power. Were it not for the pathetic interest that Rome her- self always inspii-es, perhaps the careful detail work on broken column and cornice would seem as the merest old woman gossip com]iared to the human tragedy in the foreground, which lie has treated simply as an accessory. Probably there is no artist to-day whose pictures are more widely known in the home and in the Sunday school than Heinrich Hoffmann's (1S24- ). His Bible scenes have become HUFFMAXX— DEFREGGER 807 so familiar that his interpretation of events in the Ufe of Christ is often accepted as the true one. It is a ])ity tiiat " Raphael's Bible" could not have been the educating medium instead, for then the young people of to-day would have had a correct idea of what is true art and a more ideal conception of Bible times. Hoffmann was particularly fond of scenic effects, which come out in his portrayal of Shakespeare's dramas and Biblical scenes. His most noted picture is "Chi'ist before the Doctors" (Fig. 218), in the Dresden Gallery. Aside from the ";Sistine iladonna," in the same gallery, no picture has more attractions for the general sightseer, and even that does not bring out as many ad- jectives of admi- ration. Certainly the artist has con- ceived a most beautiful character in the Boy Jesus, and one worthy the highest praise. There is a depth of knowledge in those large luminous eyes that is more than human, anrl a rare beauty in that uplifted head that only one who was sin- cere, and wholly absorbed by his suljject, could have gi\-en. No three artists of the modern German school represent three phases of art subjects more truly than do Franz Defrcg- ger (183.5- ), Gabriel :\lax (IS-ll- ), and Fritz von I'hde (1848- ). Although each man was more or less influenced by the .Munich school, they were men of too strong ideas to be bound down to any particular school training. Defregger is pre-eminently a genre painter. It was his delight to picture the Tyrolian peasant as he appears at his work and at his play. No one knows better how to represent these rustic folk or to do it with more truth to nature, than did he. Born as he was Fig. 218.— Hoffmann. Christ before the Doctors. Dresden Gallery. * 808 GERMAN PAI-XTING ill a small country town (Stronach) he came very close to the live.s of the people who, in later life, peopled his canvases. One marvels at his skill in giving such individual expressions to his scores of characters. Being a close observer of the lives of those around him, he could individualize each person. There is a charming picturesc|ueness in his scenes that is most pleasing; a hard conanon sense in the men and women that makes one feel their worth, and, above everything else, he knows just the right detail to repeat in all his peasant scenes to make the Tyrolian peasant distinctive without assuming a mannerism. Who does not know the green felt hat with the feather on one side, or needs to be told that the man wearing that hat belongs to the Tyrol? A typical pic- ture of Defregger's is "The :\Ieal of the Hunters" (Fig. 219). It is simply typical because he has given a scene from the life of the Tyrolian peasant; other- wise it is as different from his other pictures as are the various faces that make up the group. This is a veritable portrait group of these mountain people. It is just this freedom from repe- tition of some particular face in his genre compositions that makes them so full of interest. His delightfully frank, simple manner of l^ringing these people to our notice is perfectly charming. He is not telling a story, he is simply giving an incident of daily life where the actors in the daily drama are j^erfectly unconscious of anything but the part they ai'e ])laying. We unconsciously look for the feather in the dark green hat of the T)-rol as being a part of the scene as much as the animals — and no one knew better how to make the IBH ^HHP^^ ^^K 1^^ lB^,^'i H^EKj;.- ,^^K f| % mIk jj^B^^^fcJHJi W^a ^m^^% ^^& is^Pil flnl .«^^n^ A HfiHJjDy^^^QLr .-i^3L--^' m ..'^j^jS pHM^U'^p ^^^ v--^^^^ Fig. 219. — Defregger. The Meal of the Hunter.5. GABRIEL MAX— FRITZ VON UHDE 809 latter an essential element with the peasant folk than did Defregger. In Gabriel Max we find tlie tragic side of life emphasized. His tendency in portraying historical characters is to picture them in distressing circumstances. That he has a wonderful imagination and great originality no one will tlen}', l.)ut f)ne would not care to live with many of his pictures. The artist himself felt that in his picture, "Gretchen," he more nearly realized his own ideal than in any other painting. The concep- tion of the character of Marguerite as pictui-ed in "Gi-etchen" is truly marvelous. There is a peculiar fascination about the eyes of the women, as Max paints them, that almost haunts one after once looking into them. One of his most popular pictures, "TheLion'sBride" (iMg. 220), is found- ed on a story taken from Chamisso's ballad. The young girl and the lion have been chums since babyhood, and have loved each other tenderly. In her joy over her ap- proaching marriage she comes to tell lier playmate of the young man •\\-ho has «'on her and that they are to wed the next day. The Uon feels the torments of jealousy, and, rather than relinquish his claims to another, he kills her with one stroke. The prostrate girl and the dignified bearing of the lion as he rests his cheek against the form of his behn-ed express ^'ividl^' the traged}' and the right of possession. The cool tones in which it is painted have so softened the horror of the deed that we simply admire the artist's genius in the use of his colors. As a religious painter no one is better kno^vn to-day than Fi'itz von Uhde. He has modernized the scenes in the life of Christ, l)ut he has not vulgarized them. Sincerity is the key- FiG. 220— Ma.x. The Liori'.< Br no GERMAN PAINTIXG note in all his paintings. Tlie simple peasants in their homely surroundings, dressed in their common, every-day clothes, are perfectly in keeping with the gentle Savior as he appears among them. He paints true Christianity as it comes from the heart; there is nothing artificial in the humility of his men and women. We all admit that story-telling is not true art, but when such an artist as Von Uhde tells the story of Christ in his simple, ff)rceful manner, it l)ecomes true art. As a painter he stands unchallenged. The .Savior completes the family circle, as Von Uhde has represented "Christ in the Peasant's Hut" (Fig. 221), in the Luxembourg Cudlery, Paris. What comljination of words could plead so elo- rjuenth' for Grace before meals as this humble scene does? The blessing given here is a blessing for all humanity. Had Franz von Len- bach (1836-1904) never painted any other por- traits than those of Bis- marck, liis fame as a por- trait painter would ha^"e been made. The Iron Chancellor will be as well known to posterity by Von Lenbach's likenesses as Washington is through the Gilbert Stuart por- traits. The bond of sympathy between these two strong na- tures was very close. Both were born leaders of men. In the ]jortrait of Bismarck (Fig. 222), Von Lenl)ach has caught the very essence of the character of the " Man of Blood and Iron." The flash of the eye and the set of the square shoulders de- note the tireless energy of this diplomat, whose power was felt not only the length and breadth of Germany, but of the whole world. Von Len])acli was not only the son of a carpenter, but he worked at the liench himself until he entered Piloty's studio at .Munich. The honest manliness of his character was never more apparent than when, one day riding with Princess Bis- FiG. 221, — Von Uhde. Christ in the Peasant's Hut. Luxembourg Gallery. Paris, VU.\ LEXBACH— MUXKACSY oil marek, he pointed to a carpenter at woi'k on a peasant's roof with the remark, "I, too, was at that tiade in my youth." When this man died all Germany mourned his loss. When :\Ir. W. P. Wilstach, of Philadelphia, bought "The Last Day of the Condemned .Man" (Fifr. 22.3), in 1870, it prae- FiG. 222. — Von Lenbach. Portrait of Bi.smarek. tically ended the youthful struggles of Baron de Munkacs\-. The picture was exhibited at the Paris Salon of tluit year, which secured for him a high place in the world of art. In choosing such a subject, ;\Iunkacsy has commemorated an old custom in Hungary — that of exposing a |irisoner, who had 312 GERMAN PAINTING been condeemed, to the public for several hours. The artist has made the pathos of the scene heartrending. The terrible grief of the wife, as she leans against the cell wall with her face buried in her apron, brings a sob to our throats; the hopeles.s- ness of the condemned man is stamped on every line of his body. The expressions on the different faces comprehend Fig. 223.— llunkacs The Last Day of the Condemneil Mar. Private Gallery, Philadelphia. ever}- emotion that pitying humanity feels for the unfortunate. ]\Iichael de Munkacsy was born in Hungary in 1844. While apprenticed to a carpenter, he first began painting by deco- rating the furniture that was made in the shop. But, see- ing a famous portrait painter at work, he resolved to become an artist. His native talent, combined ■^\ith ambition, deter- mination, and perseverance, finally brought him wealth and renown. FRENCH PAINTING CHAPTER XXXII THE CLOT'ETS — POUSSIX — CLAUDE LOKKAIN — i HAIILES LlOljREX- LE SCEUE AA'ATTEAU XA'ITIKK c HAHlJlX — liHlCUZE DIX'ORATION peems to liave been the m(iti\e power in early French ui-t, foi-, IVom the xevy hepinninn-, tliis ])eople lo^'ed the ornamental. -Many inliuenees «Pi-e at work, for a long period of time, develoijing tlie French nation. ^Vhile the art of the country pas^^ed thi'oiigh many pjiar-es, it is com- jjaratively ea.s\- to follow the diffei'ent efi'ects that the conquer- ing powers left on the nati^-e element. ^\'hen Piome ruled France in the fifth centur}- mural decoiators folFiwed Italian methods. Then Cliailemagne, in a.d. 800, with his many acfjuisitions from the east, Inought the Byzantine element; during this century Irish decorations were introduced and the Flemish influence was at work. At the time William the Con- C|ueror went into England— 1066— his wife .Matilda, with her maids, was at work on the famous Bayeux Tapesti-y (now in tlie Hotel de A ille, Bayeux), which is so perfectly preserved that hy it we can judge of the artistic development of the eleventh century. This wonderful piece of needlework (Fig. 224) gives a most accurate account of the manners and customs of the times. Often the sulijects chosen for decorative jiurjioses were religious, hut C'hiis- tianity was not the nioti\'e powei- as it was in very eail}' Italian ai-t. Illuminated missals of rare beauty and exciuisite workman- .31.5 Fig. 224. — .Matilda. Bayeux Tapestry. Bayeux, France. Hotel lie Ville 316 FRENCH PAINTING ship are among the treasures of early French art. Stained glass was made as early as the thirteenth century. There was no real French art before the fifteenth century; even then the methods used were derived from other nations. In the sixteenth century Francis I. introduced new schemes for enlarging and beautifying the buildings of Paris and the royal residences. He not only encouraged home talent, but brought into France the best artists from other countries. He traveled ex- tensively, and while in Italy he invited Leonardo da Vinci and Andrea del Sarto, with several other artists, to come to France to assist in the decorations on his new palace at Fontaine- bleau. Tradition says that Leonardo died in the arms of the j'oung king, but this is hardly true, as he spent his very last days at the Chateau Boise, on the Loire, a home furnished him by Francis, and here he died in 1519. These master geniuses greatly influenced the art of France, and, for a time at least, fur- nished the art. They e'ven established a school called "The Fontainebleau School." There were also native artists, whose training was Flemish, who were making themselves felt, so that there was considerable strife between the two methods of work — the Italian, with its beautiful form and color scheme, and the Flemish, with its love of detail and its sincerity and love of truth. As time went on the Italian influence grew stronger until finally the Flemish leaven was overpowered and the southern master was the model for France. There was still no master mind so full of Fig. 22.5. — Frangois Clouet. Portrait of Eliza beth of Austria. Louvre, Paris. THE CLOUETS— POUSSIN 317 French individualitj' that he could create a purely Fi'cnch art that would show the characteristics of the French nation. There were men filled with the artistic instinct, but they were trained in foreign schools and at once absorbed so much of the teacher that the inherited talent ■was o\-erpowered. The native artists of France who really attracted any attention at this time were the Clouets. They were Flemish in origin and presei'ved the Flemish methods, especiall\- in the very fine detail work so characteristic of the northern technic. Two of the four Clouets — Jean and Francois — were noted for their portrait painting. The fine examples of their work in the Louvre show the careful finish of the Van Eiycks with the same firm drawing and transparency of color. In 1570 Fran5ois Clouet painted the "Portrait of Elizabeth of Austria" (Fig. 225) — daughter of ^Maximilian II. — who had just become the bride of Charles IX. of France. Is it possible as we look into her beautiful face that we see foreshadowed there a little of the sorrow that was to come to her so soon over the awful cruelties of that fearful night of St. Bartholomew? In the seventeenth century there was founded a French academy of painting and sculpture, and large collections were made of works of art. Two artists, Nicholas Poussin (1593- 1665) and Claude Lorrain (1600-1682), who were particularly noted for their landscape painting, were really great artists of this centur}', but they were simply French by birth — their work was Italian. Poussin was born in Normandy. He worked for years trying to earn enough with his brush to take him to Rome, the center and gathering place of artists, and there he spent the remainder of his life. His son, who was born in Italy, is given among the Italian artists. Poussin was a student; he knew his Bible and made hinrself thoroughly familiar with mythology, legends, and traditions. He loved to fill his landscapes with classical figures; in fact the landscape was used more as a setting for the picture. A good example of one of his outdoor scenes, where he has used trees, mountains, and clouds to firing out the grace and charm of the composition, is his "Arcadian Shepherds" (Fig. 226), in the Royal Institution, Liverpool. 31S FREXCH PAIXTIXG These shepherds Imve more the appearance of gods than real people. Homer mioht liave used them as models for his Paris and \'enus. There is nothing slovenly in Poussin's woi'k; his drawing is good, his scenes ai-e well balanced, and his color pleasing, if at times it was a little strong. He could not have lieen an ex])ert in mixing his pigments, for many of his pictures arc fading and changing color. While he followed very closely the methods then in vogue in Italy, of showing little interest Fig. 226. — Pnufsiti. -\rcaa\n!. 'Jlie Ctiriiiiatiun of Napoleon and Josephine. L.ouvre. Paris. of the Revolution, and a great friend of Napoleon, by whom he was appointed court painter later. David became "the man after the heart of the age," and the recognized leader of the new Classic school. His large canvases of subjects, filled with the republican and revolutionary spirit of the past, appealed strongly to the turbulent spirit of the day, and when those tragic scenes of the "Reign of Terror" were a reality, no man knew better how to put them on canvas for posterity than did David. While those pictures represent vividly the awful tragedies that were enacted, they show only the more formal, stilted side of this man's art. It is in the "Corona- tion of Na])oleon and .Josephine" (Fig. 2.37), in the Louvi'e, JEAX LOl'IS DAMD 8ol that we see the real power of DaA-id in a historic scene. >>'a])0- leon, after an hour's examination of the can^-as, turned to the artist and said: "It is well done, David, ^-er}- well. You ha^•e di\-ined my thouglits; you have represented me as the emljodiment of Fiench clii\'alr3-. I am indebted to you for handing down to posterity this proof of affection whicli I haA'e desired to show her who shares with me the cares f)f government." After Napoleon's first abdication tlie original of the painting was destroyed by order of the Bourbons, but, on the retuin of Napoleon to Paris, this one was orrlered from H^^^^ ^H H ^Hl Bfl&^'^^SBf \. Vi,||j|||j||yiii^ Bff/.^^BW BHII'^ ^^i^iiipi K'i'^^^^^^l HJIPK^ 1^ ^^Z^^ ypp^ iiJ / ^jp^i^^^ 1 '' I 'i Fi.-,. 2?.,S.— Da\ Madame Rik'aniier. l.i the artist. There is a stateliness and dignity about the grou]i- ing of the figures and a richness in the low-toned color that harmonize well with the scene portrayed. It is an immense painting measuring thirtA'-three feet long and twenty-one feet high with o^■er two hundred figures. In turning from this crowded canvas to his "Portrait of -Madame Recamier" (Fig. 238), in the Louvre, one realizes the wonderful versatility of this remarkaljle man. It is in his porti'aits that one feels the real personality of the artist; he seems to drop all rules and accjuifed ideas, and gi^■es us a peep of his own naturalness and simplicity. Could anything lie more simple in arrangement or graceful in pose than the fui'- 332 FRENCH PAINTING nishings and figure in this picture? The plain white gown without ruffle or lace, against the pale yellow of the cushions, . and the outline of the whole figure intensified by the empty background, make a picture so vivid in its severe simplicity and transparent color that even the memory of it gives a thrill of pleasure. Another artist who was an exponent of the Classic school was Pierre Paul Prudhon (1758-1823). He had the same strong feeling for line and classic composition that was so pronounced in his con- teiTiporary — David. His subjects chosen from the mythological and allegorical were often treated in a m^s- tical and indistinct manner, and his religious pictures were a little too exaggerated in sentiment and pose. He was entirely opposed to David in the purely picto- rial element, and the use of light as an integral part of his compositions. He tem- pered the cold formalism of the classic with the spirit of throbbing, pulsing life indic- ative of an age of youth and simple living. Possibly he lacked the elevation of style of his contemporary-, yet the arrangement of his compositions was graceful and effective. "The Assumption" (Fig. 239), in the Louvre, exemplifies his strength in drawing as well as his unique conception of a muc'.-used suliject. The ease and grace of the two figures in su]i])orting the Mrgin are well expressed and carry out the idea of the A'irgin's own supernatural ascent into heaven. The clear light and rich color of the foreground are in perfect harmony with the delicate flesh tints of the phantom-like cloud of witnesses and the hazy blue atmos- FiG. 239. — Prudhon. The Assumption. Louvre, Paris. FRANCOIS GfiRARD phere that forms the background of the picture. Prudhoii was a true artist of his time. A very close follower of David was Francjois Gerard (1770- 1837), who was born in Rome, wliere his father had been sent with the' French amljassador, but came to France and entered David's studio wlien he was sixteen. After four years under this master he went to Italy for three years, and then com- ing baclv to Paris in 1793 — the year Louis XVI. was be- headed — he soon fell under the influ- ence of the revolu- tionary spirit, which carried him out of the classic style, ab- sorbed from his mas- ter David, into the fi'eer, less austere style of the Napole- onic era. Through his portraits he at- tracted the atten- tion of Napoleon, who made him offi- cial portrait painter of the court in 1806. On these portraits rests his fame as an artist. He was so industrious in painting the men and women of note, that, at his death, he left neai'ly a hundred full-length por- traits and over two hundred smaller ones. His picture of " -Ma- dame Recamier" (Fig. 240), in the Louvre, is a fine e.xam])le of the grace and good taste he displayed in this 1)ranch of painting. In representing the lieautiful wojuan — ?\ladame Recamier — this picture gives a greater charm to her personalit}- than that Fig. 240.- (Jeraril. Madame Recamier Louvre, Paris. 384 FRENCH PAIXTIXG of David's (Fip;. 237). What a Salon that must have been with tliis most beautiful woman in France and her friend, Madame de Staol — the finest con\-ersationalist — as entertainers! No wonder that Napoleon, when he found that the}' were not in perfect sympath)' with him, banished them from Paris. The greatest of David's pupils was Jean Ingres (17S0-1S67). After absorb- mg from his master the love of line and form, he spent tv. enty years in Italy study- mg the artists of the Re- naissance, which modified his classic ideas somewhat, but in no way lessened his res]3ect for the early teach- ing of David. In no picture does he show' his belief that "in nature all is form," as he so often said, as in " The Source'' (Fig. 241), in the LouATe. This figure is as pure and chaste as the water that pours from the urn into the crystal ])ool at her feet. The beaut}' and dig- nity of the delicately curved lines of the figure are in perfect harmony with the seams in the rock, the fall- ing water, and the flower stem of the fleur-de-lis at her side. No artist has so closely wedded the sister arts — sculpture and painting — as he has in his single figures. He was a fine draughtsman, working with such enthusiasm over draw- ing correctly, that even to-day it is felt in the French school. An artist closely associated witli Ingres, and a pupil of Da\id, was Jean Antoine (Iros (1771-1835). I'nlike the Fig. 241. — Ingres. The Source. Louvre, Paris. GROS— MADAME LKBKUN 385 persevering Ingres, this artist was read}' to change liis style in painting his large battle-pieces, adding to form and line, color, light, and atmosphere — in fact he broke away from the formalism of the classic and portrayed his scenes in a moi-e realistic manner. This tenierity brought such a storm of criticism that his old master filially convinced him that so much freedom was not true art. Before he returned to the classic, however, he painted many large canvases, and held a prominent jjlace at the head of the artists of his time. When he returned to the teachings of David, and competed with the Romantic school — of which he was real- ly the forerunner — he failed in his attempt, finally closing his studio, saying bitterly: "I know no misfortune greater than to survive one- self." Shortly afterward he committed suicide. One of the pictures that admirably illustrates his skill in o^-ercoming the formality of the classic without losing its repose and dignity is "The \'isit of Francis 1. and Charles V. to the Royal Tombs at Saint Denis " (Fig. 242). The gorgeous display of colors in the attire of the ro^'al sightseers against the massive stone pillars and archways of the old cathedral is ju.st the contrast necessary to bring out the life and dignity of the scene. iladame ^'igce-LelDrun, who was l:)orn in 17.55, began her artistic career at a very early age; when she was onlv seven or eight her artist father, seeing a sketch of a man's head tliat she had made l)y lamplight, said: "You will be a jiainter, my child, if ever there was one." Her father's death, when she Fig. 242.— Gros. The Visit of Francis T. and Charlies V. to the Royal Tombs at Saint Denis. sat; FRENCH PAINTIXG was but thirteen, so crushed her sensitive nature, that for a time she laid down her brush, but, remembering his prophetic words, and encouraged by the painter Doyen— her father's intimate friend— she found real comfort in trying to fulfill tlie pT-ophecy of the loved parent. The individuality of the young Fig. 243. — Madame Lebnin. Portrait of the -\rti?t and Her Daugluer. I.ouvre, Paris. artist was so pronounced that the lessons of her teachers did little more than show her how to set her palette. At fifteen her portrait painting was so remarkable that it brought her commissions from members of the royal family, which was the beginning of her l^eing the most successful portrait painter MADAMK LEBRUN oo7 ill Europe. Slie proljably painted more crowned iieads than any otlier artist who ever lived. She was veiy unfortunate in her marriage to j\i. Lel^run, an art collector, a spendthrift, and gambler, who demanded all she earned for his own expenses, oftentimes leaving her almost destitute. He lived in elegantly furnished rooms, while she had but two small ones where slie must even entertain her friends. Her "drawing loonis," how- FlG 244. — ilaflame Lebrun. Marie Antoinette and Her ChiMren. Versailles, France- ever, were always filled with the most noted artists and writers of the day, while she received them with the greatest simplicity. ^ladame Lebrun was a beautiful woman endowed with a charm- ing personality that made her a favorite with all. Her devo- tion to her art and to her little daughter, the only child, saved her from becoming morbid over her unhappy lot. The por- traits she has left of herself and her daughter are the embodi- ment of maternal love. The one in the Louvre (Fig. 24.3) is one of the most charming of these portraits. In no other pic- 338 FREN'CH PAINTING ture has ^ladame Lebrun evinced greater skill in portraiture; tlie tenderness of the mother and the child-love of the little one are perfectly natural and unaffected; the exquisite modeling of the flesh, the perfect harmony of the delicate blue of the child's slip against the green and red of the drapery and sash of the mother, could hardly l^e more satisfying. This devoted mother was soon to lose the love of her daughter through her marriage to a scheming husband. No doubt the daughter, inheriting her father's mean traits, was easilj' influenced against her mother. We sympathize with iladame Lebrun. Of all her portraits of the royal famih", possibly the one most interesting to us is that of "Marie Antoinette and Her Children" (Fig. 244), in the palace of Versailles. It was painted when the popularit}' of the cjueen was declining, yet the painting was accepted with great enthusiasm because of the artist. After the close of the Salon of 1787, where it was exhibited, it was taken to Versailles by order of the king, who expressed liimself to ^ladame Lebrun as so pleased with her work that, said lie, "I do not know much about painting, but }"ou make me love it." Madame Lebrun painted more than t^^■o dozen portraits of this ill-fated woman, most of them being made from personal sittings which brought the artist many happy hours in clo.se comjDanionship with the gracious queen. CHAPTER XXXIV GERIC'AULT DELACROIX DELAROCHK ARY SCHEFFER — DECAMPS FROMENTIN COUTURE THE restless longing for a change, which the revolutionary spirit of France bi'ought into all walks of life, ga^-e dissatisfaction in the present and promised very little for the future. No class of people are more susceptible to disturbing elements than artists, with their high-strung, sensitive natures. They feel the moods of those around them, often expressing in their compositions the sentiments of the multitude. The quick succession of events and the highly wrought state of the public could no longer be represented b_v the perfect poise of the Greek hero. The art of Ingres was too cold and stern to show the intense passion of the stirring times. More action ^^•as needed than mere form could express. The followers of Da\-id were not full enough of life and enthusiasm to please the young artists. Such men as Gericault (1791-1824) and Delacroix (1799-1863), who, in their boyhood, had been fas- cinated with the exploits of the great Napoleon, found the methods of the Classic school inadequate to express the scenes their teeming brains evolved. These men were hlled with romantic ideas gathered from the word pictures of the romantic writers. A fierce struggle began between the two schools — the Classic and the Romantic. The conservatiA-es, on the one hand, said, study the old Greek and Roman models, give dignity and repose to each composition; the radicals, on the other, said, we want life, more animation, more expression of senti- ment. Each side held to its own way of thinking until finally out of the two schools deA-eloped a third school, made up of the men who saAV good in both the Classic and Romantic, and so combined the best from each, and started the Eclectic school. The representatives of these three schools A\-ere all at work in Paris in the early part of the nineteenth century. David .3.39 uo FRENCH PAINTING and Ingres persevered in giving all their compositions a classi- cal turn. They emphasized line and fonn as the principal things in painting. Gericault and Delacroix were just a.s ]3ersistent in doing away with so much "line" and "form." They exaggerated scenes from life. Delaroche, who was the real foimder of the Eclectic, moderated the emphasized points of the other two, which made admiraljle pictures even if they do lack originality. Gericault was never better pleased than when representing rearing horses, contorted bodies, and everything showing mo- tion and unrest. His "Raft of the Medusa" (Fig. 245), in the ^^^■P^ ^.^ 1 )fWii:n s. ..A>^ m^gi^^^.''jj^gji . -- ~ ■■- ^^Mp^^ttk^PH Fi(i. 245. — Gericault. The Raft of the Medusa. Louvre. Paris. Louvre, proves his power to portray the horriljle and dramatic. The more e.xaggerated the passion, and the more realistically a blood-curdling story could be put on canvas, the greater credit to the artist. Gericault did not live to see his romantic ideas realized, but Delacroix, his friend and fellow student, became the real founder of the school. This artist was an expert in the use of color, although rather harsh at times. He showed great skill in the distriljution of light, also in filling the whole picture with atmosphere. His subjects were taken largely from the thrilling events of history, in the portraying of which his emotional nature had full play. His pictures created great excitement among the young and the old. When the "Massacre of Chios, in 1822" (Fig. 246), in the Louvre, was first exhibited, Gros called it " the massacre of art." Truly DELACROIX— DELAKOCHE—SCHEFFER 341 notliing but the horrible is seen in this painting! The cruel Turk is riding roughshod over the prostrate bodies of men, women, and children, regardless of prayer or entreaty; in the distance the wild waves of the angry sea are lashing the shores of the island; not a tree, not a blade of grass — nothing relie\es the ghastliness of the scene. But the conser^-atives could storm as much as they chose; Delacroix led on, drawing the young artists around him in the romantic movement; still he alone represented the strongest and best artist of the school. Delaroche and Ary Schef- fer, the founders and pro- moters of the Eclectic school, were Ijoth born the same year — 1797. They were not men of great ability: in fact they in- vented nothing, but simply appropriated from those around them. As "story- tellers" in art, they pleased the general public and be- came popular both in their o^\"n time and to-day. Delaroche could draw as well as Ingres; he could express his ideas in a ro- mantic manner so that he made pleasing picures even if they were not masteri^ieces. He loved to take some special event in history, and reproduce some one scene so that it would recall the whole story. In working out the single figures — seventy-five of them from the different epochs — in his "Hemicycle" — in the theater of the palace of the Beaux Arts, Paris — he has shown a wonderful constancy of purpose in the execution, and, "Like some lieautiful poeiri, the painting of 'The Hemicycle' forms a harmonious whole, broken, as it were, into stanzas." The painting is intended to commemorate painting, sculpture, and architecture fi'om Pericles to Louis XIW At the lower front of the centi'al 246. — Delacroix. Massacre c.f Clii J.ouvre. Pans. ■44-2 FRENCH PAIXTIXG Fl<:. 247. — Delaroche. Detail iiom gi'oup is a charming nude female figure (Fig. 247). Sire repre- sents the Genius of the Arts as she distributes laurel wreaths to crown the heads of those who have joined the immortals. The fin- ished study for "The Hemicycle," entirely b}' Delaroche, is in the Walter's Gallery, Baltimore. Ary Scheffer was more a follower of Ingres, although he combined the two .schools. In many of his paintings the figures are so care- fully and so accurately drawn that they could be used as models by The Hemieycle. Palace of the ^he SCulptor. In the picture of Beaux Arts, Bans. ^ ^ "St. Augustine and His ^fother, Monica" (Fig. 248), in the Louvre, the color is cold, the draw- ing severe, the position of the mother strained, and the son awkward, yet the artist has put into the faces such true devf)tion that we feel the consecration of this mother and son, and know that the}' stand for sincere truth. Scheffer was an illustrator, choosing his subjects from the Bible, Goethe, and Byron. There was a class of artists at this time who went to the far East to stud}' the manners and customs of the orientals. The rich colors of eastern costumes, the magnificent oriental rugs, and the gor- geous hangings in the dimly lighted chambers— all appealed tii these romance hunters. The two artists who led in this movement m ci-e Decamps Fig. 248. — Scheffer. St. .\ufrustine and His Mother. Louvre, Paris, DECAMPS 348 Fig. 249. — Decamp^-. The Foundling. Luxembourg Gallery, Pari:^. (1S03-1S60) and Fromentin (1S20-1S76). No artist has given a more accurate account of what he saw in that strange and wonderful country than De- camps. He loved to paint the scenes around him, giving not onlv interiors Adhere wealth has ijrought together beautiful works of rare value, but also street scenes full of human sym- pathy. In the Luxem- bourg, Paris, is a painting of Decamps that is a perfect little ^em of feeling and sim- ]3licity — "The Foundling" (Fig. 249). This little mite of a child Iving on the pave- ment, the lower part of its littlebody wrapped in swad- dling clothes, its tiny baby hands held toward you, and a wee smile on the baby face would melt a heart of st.'-mJIL' .y^s^'PM Fifi. 258.— Troyon. .Cattle Going to Work. Paris Wagon" (Fig. 2.57), in the Metropolitan ;\Iuseum, New York City, is the wonderful simplicity and truthfulness of the scene. He always put into his landscapes something of human inter- 362 FRENCH PAINTING est, thiit di-aws the heart toward him. His farms, with the cottages and meadows, where people live and cattle graze, rep- resent true life; the mills and the trees bordering the streams furnish food and shelter for both man and Ijeast. The peace and rustic charm in these homely scenes interest mankind. Dupre was the last survivor of the Pleiades of 1830. Constant Troyon (1810-1865) was a landscapist as well as an animal painter. He loved animals, and when he put them into his pictures they became such an essential part of the whole that the scene would not have been complete without them. In the picture of "Going to Work" (Fig. 258), the oxen are a living, breathing element in the scene. They so palpitate with life that one almost feels their presence in the room where the picture is hung in the Louvre. Troyon could not be considered a good draughtsman, but there is so much truth in his manner of giving special traits that distinguish objects, in all his works, that much can be forgiven him. He interpreted nature with a large, free touch that can be readily understood and appreciated by the world. CHAPTER XXX YI .lAlQlT, — BRETOX ROSA BOXHEUR — PUYIS DE CHAYAXXflS- BAUDRY — c: erumj: — Boror ereau — cabaxel — courbet :\ieissoxier detaille gustaye dore — :maxet — moxet 4 NOTHER artist contemporaneous with Troyon was Jacque f\ (1813-1890), who was celebrated for his painting and etching of sheep. His barnyard scenes, as "The Sheep- fold" (Fig. 2.59), in the ;\Ietropolitan .Museum, New York City, with the open sheds and sheep contentedlj- feeding at the long, low manger filled with .straw, and the chick- ens industriously scratching beside them, are full of ]5oetry and true life. He knows the habits of sheep; he has been with them in the shed and in the field, and is not telling what some writer has said about them, but what he has seen himself. The way he hud- dles them together, and then tries to start them OYer some unusual object, fills us with mirth, for he understands so well the stupidity of the innocent things. AMiile Jacc^ue is not a true colorist. yet he has the power of gi\'ing scenes with a sincerity and truth that bring the natural scene YiYidly before the mind. One of the peasant painters whose works are often seen and easily recognized is Jules Breton (1827-1906). He knew just how to put his human beings in a real landscape without spoiling the effect of either. He could paint the peasant men 3.53 Fig. 259.— Jacque. The Sheepfold. Metr politau iluseum, New YVirk Cit>'. 804 FREXCH PAIXTI-N'G and women, and give them personal characteristics so that they would be recognized as individuals. He may not have had the originality of .Millet in representing the commonplace Fir.. 2ft0. — Breton. The Gleaner. Luxembourg, Paris. in life, Ijut he did give a certain dignity to his laborers that elevates whatever they are doing. Some of his single figures are specially strong, as seen in ''The Gleaner" (Fig. 260). She has a charm of form and manner that marks his power ROSA BONHEUR 355 ns ;i figure painter. There is perfect harmony between this rustic beauty, with lier poetry of motion, and the landscape he has portrayed with so much sincerity and rei'erence. No French artist of the nineteentli century liad a more unanimous aclcnowledgment of his merits than did Jules Breton during his lifetime. Rosa Bonheur (1822-1899) acquired most of her fame in this country from her "Horse Fair," in the iletropolitan Jluseum, New York City. It \\'as brought to this count r>' about fifty years agf). The picture is full of clash and vitalit>'. The horses are magnificent animals, and are showing off to the Fig. 261. — Rosa Bonheur. Oxen Plowing. Luxembourg, Paris. best advantage, as they prance before us on the way to tlie fair. Rosa Bonheur's sole teachers were her father and natuie. A'ery early in her career she began visiting the horse fairs to study the animals in their natural surroundings. As she dressed in the Ijlouse and breeches of the peasant boy, she was never molested, but passed as the clever boy-artist who knew h(iw to please the men with his animal pictures. No woman has commanded greater respect for her purity and generosity than has .Alademoiselle Bonheur. As an animal painter she will hardly rank with Troyon and .Jacque, but in individual pic- tures, as in "Oxen Plowing" (Fig. 261), she stands second to none. As we linger before this painting in the Luxemlwurg, we realize that she has given the same intense study to the char- 356 FREiNCH PAINTING acter of these patient, long-suffering cattle that she did to the noljle horses. She has come in very close touch with nature, and has revealed her secret— the beauty of the plowed field — as she has surprised it through her own tender sympathy for the great out-of-doors. These Barbizon-Fontainebleau artists were far from being appreciated in their day; in fact, they were condemned and ridiculed, and even shut out from the Academy to show in ^\hat disfavor they were held by the contemporary artists. To-day, however, the men who followed the classic influences are little sought after, compared with the nature-loving artists, who achieved greatness through the love of truth. The close of the first quarter of the nineteenth century was Fig. 262, — Puvis de Chavannes. The Sorbonnp Hemicycle. The Sorbonne (University of Paris). marked b}' the l^irth of five boys in France, who were to make names for themselves as artists. Each one developed in his own line, and each one has his own followers. They were Cabanel (1825-1889), Gerome (1824-1904), Puvis de Chavannes (1824-1898), Bouguereau (182.5-1905), and Paul Baudry (1828-1886), The artistic career of Puvis de Chavannes was one long struggle against the artificial. He was perfectly calm and unruffled througli all the storm of criticism that was hurled at him from all sides. His firm conviction that he was m the right, made him persevere: his truth, sincerity, and simplicity won the day, and, before his death, no man was more highly honored as a master. Tliis artist will alwavs Ije best known PUVIS DE CHAVANNES ii&7 l^y his mural paintings. In these the keynote is the absolute harmony between the landscape and the figures. His allegoi-i- cal representations were the result of the most careful study and profound meditation; every line, every gesture has its special place in the meaning of the whole. His only com- mission outside of his native land was for the Public Libraiy, Boston. The painting was first exhibited in the New Salon, Champ-de-Mars, Paris, then sent to America, to decorate the main staircase of the library building, where it fills the space with that perfect harmony that Puvis knew so well how to Fii., 2fi8. — Bau(lr\-. Panel.^ from Paris C^pera House produce. The meaning of the large composition — "The ?tluses Hailing the Spirit of Light" — is emphasized and completed by the subjects portra3'ed in the eight small panels on either side. Perhaps his greatest work is the " Sorbonne Hemi- eycle" (Fig. 262), an allegory of the "Letters, Sciences, and Arts." This immense painting decorates the apse of the amphitheatrical lecture-hall of the Sorbonne, the Universit}- of Paris. The center figure represents the presiding genius of the Sorbonne — possibly it is the reincarnation of Robert de Sorbon, the founder; beside her are two youths with laurel crowns and palm Ijranches to rewai'd the worthy. From below the throne flows the pure stream of learning, from which young and old drink. When in the presence of these allegorical 358 FRENCH PAIi\Tl-\G people, placed, as they are, in a setting so severe in arrange- ment and so pallid in coloring, tliere is a feeling of having come into a region of pure air, where life is clean and thoughts holy. There is no earthlj' passion in these scenes, but a high moral tone radiates from color, light, atmosphere, and figure alike. The best work of Paul Baudry is in the Paris Opera House — that building so famous for its situation and beautiful pro- portion. His paintings decorate the Foyer du Public; those Fig. 264. — G^rome. Pollice Verso. on the ceiling represent ilelody, Harmony, Tragedy, and Comedy (Fig. 263). Baudry was a fine colorist — although the color of these paintings are somewhat faded — and a correct di-aughtsman. ilost of his subjects are taken from the classi- cal, but he shows very little originality in planning his com- positions. Some of his portraits rank with the very best. Gerome's versatility led him into almost every school of painting. He was a man of wide knowledge, gained through books and through travel, and he shows this knowledge in his subjects taken from the far East, from Rome, and from the life at home. Being a man of talent he promised great things, Ijut he lacked that something that appeals to the heart of humanity. He shows no emotion in painting the most har- BOUGUEREAU 359 rowing scenes. We feel thankful that the spectatois have turned their thumbs down in "rollice \'erso" (Fig, '2M), to save the fallen gladiator, for surely Gerome has failed to awaken the least feeling of sympathy in his portrayal of the scene. Gerome's drawing is correct, his colors are good, and his sub- FiG. 26.5. — Gardner (Madame Bouffuereau). The Judgment of Par .Salon 189.3. jects are interesting; surely all these qualities ought to make a master, but masters are not made: they are born. Probably no artist has been more popular in France for the ])ast fifty years than Bouguereau, and possibly no one has been more criticised. His well-trained eye and hand have made him a famous draughtsman, but they are so well trained that little of the originality of the artist is left. Too much schord and too little spontaneity is the criticism. AA'e like some things made to order, but not a painting. The pronounced auo FRENCH PAIXTIXG mannerism that marks all the woi-ks oi this artist does not stamp them with the characteristics of a great genius. He lacks that genuine warmth of color and true sincerity that really touches the heart. Among Bouguereau's many pupils was ^liss Gardner, our own countrywoman, who, after nineteen years' waiting, became his wife. This prolonged courtship was due to the artist's deference to his mother's disapproval of an American wife; after her death he became his own master, and when sixty-one they were married. While the works of iliss Gardner have some of the qualities of her master, the personal equation of her own genius saves them from many of his faults. The sweet simplicity and sincer- ity of "The Judgment of Paris" (Fig. 265) may not be the elements that des- ignate a great painting, but they have given a charm to this picture that is delight- ful. At least iliss Gardner has had the good taste to be enthusiastic over her sub- ject, which is an unknown cjuality in Bouguereau's pictures. A studio story is told by an eye-witness of his "Birth of ^'enus" (Fig. 266), in the Luxem- bourg, that when "he had caught himself in a false harmony, he had actuall}- glazed one of his figures to the proper tone.'' Summing up his demerits and merits ^\-e heartily agree with the critic who says: "Tasteless good taste is his sin, wonderful accuracy in drawing his glory." Caljancl is another thoroughly trained artist who could imitate to perfection, \\-ith an occasional glimmer of originalitv. From the very beginning of his career to the end of his life. FRi. 21^^. — Bouguereau. The Birth of Venus. Luxembourg, Paris. CABANEL 361 he had honors thrust, upon huii, until absolutely nothing remained for him to covet. He was the leading professor in the Ecole des Beaux Arts for years, where, much to his credit, he sought to promote individual genius in his pupils, rather than to make "Little Cabanels." His classic training showed itself in the treatment of the many historic subjects he painted. We feel no thrill of emotion as we look at his painting where "Cleopatra Tries Poison on a Slave" (Detail, Fig. 267), for we Fig. 267. — Cabanel. Detail from Cleopatra and Slave. see nothing but a piece of work well drawn and perfectly finished. The strange hi.story of this beautiful woman brings no brisk vivacity or dash of enthusiasm to the brush of this painter from the academic machine. As a portrait painter, who could make a likeness while softening all blemishes, he had few equals. The two men who came to the front about the time of the Rarbizon artists, and wlio stood for a special movement in the history of painting, were Gustave Courbet (1819-1 878) and Jean Louis Ernest ileissonier (1815-1891). Courljet desired neither classic art on the one hand, nor romantic ai-t on the other. His fundamental idea ^vas realism; he wished to paint 302 FREXCH PAIXTIXG a subject just as he saw it in nature— if ugly, then make it so; if Ijeautiful, then make it beautiful He went so far in his " exaggei-ated eccentricities" that he preferretl the ugly and sought out the ill-favored for his suljjects. As a landscapist, he shows his greatest skill, for in this the finer instincts of his nature are made apparent. His painting of "The Wave" (Fig. 2GS), in the Louvre, is a good illustration of his power in handling the attributes of nature, revealing them in a laige, .,J^.S23P^,. ^"^^Mil i^^^^^SMKti p— ^> -^ PWr*v^*34 ^'=»'--. - i^"' •-—- •.:>•- ■" ■'*i???^-^;'>»« ' ■ " ■'♦'^■P' --■^u-,._^ m^ma^^ ^^.w.i Fig. 268. — Courbet. Tlie Wave. Louvre, Pari> free manner — he hated petty details. Indirectly he has exerted considerable influence over later men. ^leissonier turned to the Dutch school for inspiration and instruction — possibly he equaled some of the Dutch masters in everything but color. His eye.? ^\■ere so wonderfully trained that their seeing quality was microscopic in character. The severest critics, when examining his pictvu-es with a magnifying glass, acknowledge his excellence as a draughtsman, and that he paints drapery to perfection; his diminutive people are perfect in form, dignity, and polish. His single figures, espe- cially those of men, are among his ^•e^y best •\\'orks. Some of his finest portraits are found in the Chauchard Collection, Paris, among the tiny little peo]ile that have something so "Frenchv" about them. MEISSUNIEK— UETAILLE 303 Meissonier puinted a series of Napoleonic pictures re])rcsciit- iiig the great general at different stages of his canqiaign. The largest and most noted of these j)aintings was his "].S()7," which was painted for A. T. Stewai-t, and now liangs in tlie .Metropolitan ^luseuni, New Yf)i'k City. Another canvas of almost ecjual prominence is his "1S14" (Fig. 269), in the Chauchard Collection, Pai'is. The artist himself sa}'s of this picture: "When I made the sketch for '1814' 1 was thinking of Napoleon returning from iSoissons with his staff after the Fin. 269.— Meissonier. 1S14. Chauchard Collection, Paris. liattle of Laon. It is the campaign of France, not the return from Russia, as has been sometimes suggested. For this theme I could scarcely find colors sad and subdued enough. The sky is dreary, the landscape devastated. The dejected, exasper- ated faces express discouragement, despair, possibly even treachery." The picture is about twenty inches high by thirty inches wide. Edouard Detaille (1S4S- ) was a pupil of ^leissonier, and follows his teachings in many particulars, although not giving the same attention to details. Nearly all of his can^•ases are either battle-pieces or some phase of military life. His experiences in the Franco-Pi-ussian war gave him just the 304 FRE.VCH PAINTING material for picture-making. "The Dream" (Fig. 270), in the Luxemljourg, has that careful, painstaking work that reminds one of the famous general's remark: "We are ready, quite ready; we miss not a gaiter button." Gustave Dore (1833-1883) is best known as an illustrator, although he has painted a large number of pictures, especially (if religious subjects. He was a man of wonderful endowment, original to a marvelous degree, and vet he borrowed and Fig. '27G. — Detaille. The Dream. Luxeinbuurg, Paris. assimilated the ideas of others beyond all ])recedent. Dorr's art belongs to no special time and follows no special school. He is not at all religious, and yet he strikes deep at the root of the immorality of his time. He could no more paint a saint than Fra Angelico could paint a devil. The horril)lc seems to fascinate him and call forth his sul)limest work, but woik with many faults of drawing and of color. That he hatl a happy side to his nature is seen in his illustrations of "Les Contes cle Perrault " (Fig. 271). His fair\--folk have the same fa-^i'ination for childien that all Mother (ioose stories have. MAXET— MOXET 305 No modem movement in the history of paintinj;- attracted more attention among the artists in Paris than the Hrst exhil.ii- tion of the so-caHed "Impressionists" in 1S,SU. At first astonishment, amusement, and antagonism were tlie pre\-ailing impressions. No one understood just what was intended by the excessive use of seemingly crude colors laid over against each other in patches and daubs nearly as thick as one's little finger. Then the purple and violet shadows; where did thev Tic. 271. — Dure. Les Coutf.^ Mp Perrault. come from? This exhibition sent all the artists to oljserving nature more closely, when, to their astonishment, they found that Edouard :\Ianet (1 833-1883), the leader of the new movement, was presenting nature as she "impresses" tlie painter, and not as she really is. One thing was certain: that never had the sun entered a painted landscape moi'e truh- than in these canvases! But it will take more than the serious convictions of such men as Manet and Claude .lean ^Monet (who discovered the purple shadow) to educate the jnililic up to looking at its master]3ieces through the Ing end of a telescope. The managing of light, Irowever, of these impressionists, has taught all nature students a valuable lesson and one that will redound to greatei- glory in future landscape ]3ainting. ENGLISH PAINTING Fig. 275.— ReNiiukU. Angel Hea. Nation:il (,i;i|]ery, Lon. on. — tiee page 374. CHAPTER XXXVII HOGARTH — REYNOLDS — ( ;AI\.sH( )Rljri ;H ALTHOUGH the first artistic awakening in Xortiiein and f\ Western Europe was in the British Isles, in Ireland, England was nearly tire last country to show hei' lo\'C for the art of painting. In her earliest history it was the stor^v-teller who formed as much a part of the household as the master, and if he could sing liis tale to the music of some ciude instru- ment his services were so much the more accepta]:)le. Then later she used her pen in giving word pictui'es that were mar- velously realistic and oftentimes very l)eautiful, while still her manner of living was so simple that the barest necessities of life were all that her people expected or desired. Tlius it was that the attention of the people was held through the charm of the human voice and the power of the written word, long after the rest of Europe was under the spell of the pictuied story that appealed to the e}'e alone. When, at the close of the thirteenth century, all Floi'ence was filled with religious fervor over the wondei-ful " Madonna and Child'' of Cimabue, Roger Bacon was creating great excite- ment in England, where his discoveries in the natural woild were attributed to the pf)wer of magic. Instead of religious fervor, Roger was denouncing the clergy, until finally the pojie interfered and prohibited his teaching at Oxfoi-d. ^'ery early in the Christian era Ireland furnished cxam])les of decorative work in illuminated manuscripts, which show the hifluence of the far East. In the British ^Museum are siiecimens dating back as eaily as the sixth and seventh centuries. Then, as missionaries came to England, they brought with them foreign artists who were inspired with the spirit of the East, but who.se art soon felt the influence of the island country they had adopted as their home. Tlie beautiful missal work left 309 E.XGLI.SH PAIXTIXG li\- these artists is a good example of tiie eomljination of the two elements — the strength of the North and the refinement of the East. One of the most strictly English in the character of its decorations is "Queen Clary's Psalter'' (Fig. 272), in the British Afuseum. The work was done in the late thirteenth or early fourteenth centuiy, and was presented to Bloody .Mary, when she was crowned cjueen in 15.53, by Baldwin Smith, a merchant of London. This beautiful bit of missal work came into his hands with some old vellum manuscripts that were fitr exportation. He was so struck with the exquisite work that he saved it to ]3resent to the queen on her coro- nation. The delicate shading of green, lilac, and brown, the Inilliant colors and gilded background, have been used with consummate skill. The reason why Engla nd ^\"as so far Ijehind her sister countries in adopting pictorial art is not easy to find. She has always been most appreciative of the "work and worker," as they came to her from over the channel. No country has eA'er Ijeen a more generous patron of ai'tists, or gi\-en more cordial welcome to them than she. di'awing to herself, as she always has, the A-ery best that other countries had to give. There l)rol)al.)ly were nati^•e artists in the early centuries, Ijut they \vere so influenced by imported talent that nothing of purely English origin is apparent. There are some fragments of wall painting in a few of the churches to-da}- that gi\-e a fair idea of the mural decorations of the .Mitldle Ages. Some curious s])ecimcns in Westminster Al)bey, London, of the fifteentli centuiy are exceedingly interesting. When the nati\-e ;irtist did l)cgin to oi-iginate an art peculiar to England, it was more of the character of illustration — an Fig. 272. — Queen Mary's Psalter. Briri-li Museum. L(jnilon. WILLIAM HU(JAin'H o i 1 art to picture what the writer hud ah-eady ad\'anceil — tlian ;i pictorial creation pure and simple. Thei-e is one branch of the painter's craft, howevei', in which Eno'land has from the beginning led the van — jinrlraUurc. E\-en before painting proper began, they lirought miniature painting to rare per- fection. The fine, delicate ■\\'ork done on the illuminated luanusci'ipts was just the training necessaiy to develop the miniature. Of all the artists who came to England from the Continent — and there were many of them during the sixteenth and sev- enteenth centuries — proljably that master genius, Holbein, did the most toward adA'ancing this daintiest of arts. His \\onder- ful skill in transferring to can^-as the li^'ing, acting cliaracters of the time was so miniature-like in its minuteness of detail that the native ai'tists found much in his life-size poi'traits to help them in their more delica,te work. The Einglish ])ortrait painter came later, and he came to sta)'. One of the finest collections of portraits in the world is in the National Portrait CJallery, in London. To a])preciate even in a small degree the wonders of the collection one must ^■i^it the gallery again and again. There is no branch of ])ainting that requires so much study to understand, aijpreciate, and l(i\'e it as portraiture, so it is usually the last to attract the attention of the general sightseer. England may well l)e proud to have opened the eighteenth century with such a genius as ^^'illiam Hogarth (1697-1764), and at a time, too, when the rest of Europe was dead so far as aitists and art productions were concerned. Hogarth spi-ang into exi.stence a full-l)lown painter, bringing with him no national inheritance of art traditions. The fureign artists, ^^"llo brought into England such varied talents and left art ti'easui'C^ of untold value, made little impression on the native artistic mind. The time was not ri]:)e for the Briton to show what he could do with his Iniisli until he neefled to make his «(ird pictures more emphatic in stemming the tide of evil that was overwhelming the country. Hogarth accomplished with his lirush what Cervantes, in S])ain, did with his jjcn at the close of the sixteenth ceiiturv. No artist c\-er used his wonderful ru-2 ENGLISH PAINTING loowers of ridicule and sarcasm to Ijetter advantage than did Hogartlr for forty years, exposing the weak points in Church and State; at no time in the history of England was such exposure more needed. ^'ery early in life the l)oy, William, was strongly drawn toward art. He himself savs of his work in school: "ily Fn;. 273. — Hogarth. The .shrimp Gh\. National Gallery, Lonilon, exercises, when at school, were more remarkable for the orna- ments that adorned them than for the exercise itself.'' His first ^"enture was as an engiYn-er. making his own designs for armorial arms, silver tankards, etc., while he used his brush for mere trifles, as in sign jiainting. Feeling that he was qualified for higher things, l)ut not wishing to take time and patience to pi'C]3are himself, he began to ponder "whether WILLIAM HOGARTH 37 a shorter road than that usually tra\'eled was not to ]>e found." He discarded the rules and regulations laid down Ijy schools of art, and says: "I have ever found studying from nature the shortest and safest way of attaining knowledge in my art. ..." His study of nature was in the ale-liouse, among jovial companions, where he thought as much of his own pleasure as he did of his art. That he understood "the very pulse of the machine," as he studied his companions from day to day, is plainly seen in his "Shrimp Girl" (Fig. 273), in the National Gal- lery, London. Surely Ho- garth had seen and talked with this girl, and possibly she had gi-ven him sittings for this portrait. We can almost hear the girl as she calls her shrimps for sale! Her personality is so strong that her very presence is felt as she gazes out in- tently with those piercing eyes. Her restless activity is arrested for just a mo- ment as the artist catches the fleeting smile and the passing thought. Nothing could be more harmonious than the blending of the rich low tones of reds, browns, and grays. Hogarth loved color; he was gifted with a rare, deli- cate sense in the placing of tones, and in co\'ering the whole picture with an atmosphere that would soften and yet vivify. To understand the artist, look at the ])ortrait that he has painted of himself (Fig. 274), in the National Gal- lery, London. How the character of the man is written in every line and on every feature! Those merry, bright eyes can see the aljsurd side of life, and that outspoken mouth can voice the wittiest sarcasm, hut with a spirit so kincll}- that ' .-^^ ■''^-V ^^IH^« ■ w< '4'' W^ :■' ^r-i^ ^J^^ ■ V; ^51 >.■■•■ Plr m ^ ■«^,---v ■ -^ \m .4 I'jv . 274. — Hogarth. Portrait of the Artist anH his Dog. National Galler>', LrnnUin. 374 ENGLISH PAINTING there is no venom on the point of the arrow aimed at a friend. There is a httle of the same stublDorn nature in the master that he depicts so weh in his favoi-ite pufi-dog, Truni]5. At his side is his palette with the famous "Line of Beaut}-" across it. Hogarth was an aitist through all his "pointing a moral and adorning a tale," in his many series of paintings illustrating some great ey\\ of the time. He was so keen in discovering the \ital points in the social evil; so clever in exposing them to ^-iew, and did it with such a true artistic spiiit, that he esca]>ed being a "story-telling" artist. Both in suljject selected and in mode of treatment, he preached his sermon well. The English art that was begun by Hogarth was perfected and refined by Sir .Joshua Reynolds (1723-1792). Brother countrymen and Ijrother craftsmen as they were, two men were never more unlike. Sir .Joshua was to the "manor born." a bachelor, fond of elegant surroundings, rather cold in tem- ]icrament, always refined, never enthusiastic except with children. His career was one long series of successes; as his reputation increased his price per sitter advanced from five guineas till he finally had fifty. One of the most rapid of painters, it is estimated Ijy some that he finished as many as three thousand poi'traits; no doubt he numbered over two thousand. Sir Joshua was a portrait painter of rare ability. His studies abroad among the old masters of Italy gave him just the ciualities necessary to strengthen his own indi^■iduality — he absorbed from them, but did not imitate — and place him beside the great portrait painters of the world. As a painter of little "girlhood." Sir .Joshua has no rival; no, not even an equal. Only an artist who possessed the heart (if his little friend could bring so many varied expressions to one face as he de]:)icts in the "Angel Heads" (Fig. 275 — sec p. 368), in the National (Jallery, London. That little iliss Gordon, his model, was very dear to the bachelor heart is plainly seen in the angel faces. One can see the shy. dainty maiden standing \ery close to the great artist, dimly realizing, as they plan the "sittings," that some unusual honor is hers. This childless man knew just the deference he must pay to J)udding woman- SIR .J(J:SHUA KEYXoLDS hood tliat ^\■ould re\'eal to liiiu the liiddeii charms he lias transferred to canvas so skillfully. His children alone would ha\'e made him immoital. The transparent, Ijrilliant quality of many of Reynold.-' portraits was said to ha^-e Ijaffled all research until Gilljcit Stuart, copying in a very warm room a fine head to fill an order, noticed that one eye on the painting moved downwards; at first he thought it imagination on his pjart, but, being convinced that it did move, instantly it or^- curred to him that Sir .Joshua must have used wax in his colors to gi^•e greater transparency. In an a^ony of mind — for the picture was of great value — he moved it into a cold room, and gradually worked the eye back in place. Reynokls' jironeness to tamper with his i^al- ette ruined many of his paintings, and stands as a warning to experi- menters in handling pigments. Greater honor was never given to both sitter and painter than when .Mrs. Siddons sat to Reynolds as "The Tragic Muse" (Fig. 276), Grosvenor House, London. When she went to him for her first sitting Sir .Joshua said to her: "Ascend the throne, which is incon- testably yours, and sugge.st to me the ^luse of Tragedy." -Mounting the throne, she took the attitude as we now see her in the painting. When she went for her last sitting she found the artist's name painted as embroidery along the edge of her robe. In an.swer to her look of surprise. Sir .Joshua, with his accustomed graciousness, said: "I could not lose this opportunity to hand my name down to jiosterity on the hem of your garment." Of the famous actress George IV. was wont to say: " She is the only real fjueen — all others are counterfeits!" Of the painting. Sir .Joshua himself maintained that "the colors would Fin. 276.— Reynohls. The Tragic Muse (ilrs. Sidfion.s). Grf)sveiinr I4iin.-e, Lori'lon. ■6ii< ENGLISH PAINTING remain unfaded as long as the canvas would keep them to- gether," which statement has so far proved true. The color- less tone of the face is due to Mrs. Siddons' own suggestion, when she begged Sir Joshua "that he would not heighten that tone of complexion so accordant with the chilly and concentrated musing of pale melancholy." Brilliancy and variety were such marked characteristics of Reynolds, that Gainsborough, his contemporary, said of his work at an exhibition: " How various he is." While Reynolds confessed, when standing before a picture of his rival: "I cannot think how he produces his effects." These two men were never on familiar terms, Ijut they had a just appreciation of each other's genius. Strangely enough, when the untimely end came to Gainsborough at fifty-one (he died of can- oe]), it was Reynolds who went to his bedside and Reynolds who was one of his pallbearers. T h o m a s Gainsborough (1727-17SS) was the exact o]iposite of Sir Joshua in his artistic temperament; very impatient of academic restraints, lie worked without rule or method. Nature was his inspiration; color and form his birthright. Ruskin pronounced him the greatest color- ist since Rubens. The same yeai' that ^Irs. Siddons sat for Re>'- nolds she posed forGainsljorough for the portrait in the National Gallery, London (I'ig. 277). In this worlv the artist has broken every law laid down by his rival: Init technically could anything be more ])erfect? By many ci'itics this picture is considered his masterpiece. From the " Gainsborough hat" that crowns her light fluffy hair to the shimmering blue and buff silk of her gown; Fig. 277. — Gainsborough, ilr?. Siddons, N.itional Cl:dler>'. London. THUMAS GAINSBOROUGH from the sensitively expressive face and girlisli neck to the firm hands that index her character, the great actress has responded to the growing excitement of tlie artist until he has fixed her on canvas as she appears to him at that moment. No artist was more dependent upon his sitter for inspiration than was Gainsborough, or had more power to put himself in harmony with the subtle charms that nature is most lavish in giving to her fav- orite children. Mere opposition seemed to develop a latent j^ower in this artist to do his best work. This is seen in his famous "Blue Boy" fFig. 278), which is said to have been painted as a proof that it was not necessary, as Reynolds said, that "the masses of light in a picture ought to be always of a warm, mellow color — yel- low, red, or a yellowish white; and the Ijlue, the gray, or the green colors should be kept almost en- tirely out of these masses, and be used only to sup- port and set off these warm colors." The "Blue Boy" is handled in exactly the oppo- site manner, with the masses in varied shades of cool lilue. "It is a fine conception, cleverly, skillfully, and carefully worked out," writes one eminent critic. As a landscape painter, GainslDorough was as original as he was in portraiture: in both he relied upon his own artistic temperament in his manner of handling a composition. His color was his most original finality. Fig. 27S.— Gainsborcjiigh. The Hlue Boy. In the Cnllertion of the Duke of Westmin.^ter, Lontloii. AA CHAPTER XXXVIII ROYAL ACADEMY ROMNKY RAF.BURX LAWRENCE BLAKE STOTHARD — AMLKIE THILE Reynolds and Gainsljorough were at the height of their fame, the Royal Academy began its existence on Saturday, the tenth of December, 1768. There were several societies f)f artists in England Ijefore this, Ijut this was the first christened by the king. Our own countryman, Benjamin West, who assisted in the preliminary arrangements, was invited l)y King George III. to take the first presidency; Ijut West felt that that honor lielonged to an Englishman, so declined in favor of Reynolds. At Reynolds' death he then accepted the honor. One hundred years saw Ijut six presidents of this Royal Institution, and nine down to date: Sir .Joshua Reynold.s 1768 Benjamin West 1792 Sir Thomas La\\ rence 1.S20 Sir Martin Archer Shee 1S30 Sir Charles Eastlal- face to canvas : never was he compelled ROMXEV— KAEBUKX 3S1 t(i turn it to the wall uncompleted as he did scores of other ])ictures. Often a single ciiticism of his Mork would so crush him that nothing could persuade him to t(juch the canvas again. He worked with an impetuosit}', \\ hen hist sketching in his suljject, that only an artist endowed with the keenest sense of the fleeting charms that lighten the human face could command, but, alas! often this ^•el■v haste wore itself out before these brilliant sketches could be finished porti'aits. Many times these sketches were so beautiful that no finishing was needed to enhance their value. The unfinished study of Lady Hamilton as " Bac- chante" (Fig. 280), in the National Gallery, London, is "a successful, excited be- ginning," and one that em- bodies the strong features of both artist and model. Sir Henry R a e b u r n (1756-1S2.3), who was born in a suburb of Edinburgh, was of ISorder descent. \'ery likely the family tree began on the hill farm of Raeburn; at least Sir Hen- ry's shield had on it a " rae or roe-deer ch'inking from a burn or rivulet running at its feet." That the early Raeburns were roving shepherds is quite certain, ^^'hile little Henry was a small boy he and his brother were left oiphans with no means of support. It was Henry's good fortune. ho\\ever, to be placed in the Hospital in Lauriston, the south side of Ivlin- liurgh. In this school he remained si.x 3'ears or more, laying a foundation in learning that enabled liim at fifteen to lay aside school woi-k without retarding his mental growth. He began his artistic career as an apprentice to a goldsmith. Soon he Ijegan to show his real genius in his wonderful energy and industry in ])erfecting his talent for drawing. The caieful . .Isi}. — Ritnine^'. Laily Haniiltn7i a^ "" P,ac- ciiante." National Callery, hiiwUm. 3Sii ENGLISH PAINTING work of the goldsmith fitted him at first for miniature painting, but \evy soon the power of the man was too great to be confined within the limits of a miniaturist. Early in his career he married the Countess Leslie, which brought him "an affec- tionate wife and a handsome fortune." Raeburn was a tall, handsome man, full of life and energ}-, with methodical habits and unceasing industry. He was not only the greatest Scotch portrait painter, but one of the great portrait painters of the A\'orld. Confining himself to this branch of art so entirely as he did, yet he was not lacking in ideality, as his portraits bear record. From a tech- nical standpoint Rael)Ui'n had no su]3eriors and few equals. His management of color was such a true interpretation of his per- ceptions of the real nature of his sitter that it could he said of his work in the words of Coleridge: "A great portrait should be liker than the original. " He ]nit into his faces more than the mere expression of the moment — the whole character was molded into the likeness. Sir Henry was in Ijondon once, when on his way to Rome, where he s])ent two years, ^^'hat this journey was to him in his art one can only sui'niise, as he left no record of his doings. Some one has said that "it was the custom for painters to go to Rome, and he went." His life was spent in Edinburgh among his own countrymen, and his lirush has given a history so exact in the poi'trayal of the ])i-oniinent men of his day tliat a wi'iter could easily make a word picture of them. The Fi'.. 2S1. — Raeburn. Pcrtrait nf William Fiir- s.\-tli. Metr,.|tolitau .Museum. New York Cir\-. LAWREXCE as8 " Port mi t of Williuni l'\)rsyth" {F\' Pilgrims. 3>((j ENGLISH PAINTING as drawn by the poet, are so realistic in the traits that belong to humanitj' under special training, that both Blake and Stcthard ha\-e preserved the Chaucer ideal in their portrayal of the theme. Stothard was early apprenticed to a designer of patterns, under whom, in his leisure moments, he learned the art of book illustration. He was a student at the Royal Academy .-.tJSii^ i.mMtmC^ss*-'- » ' .^ uH ■t. ■. ■ " ' ■ h Jil^i lJ^' ^'\A^ 1^-" ■'■ ■•. i w^ '^»' ..^ Pf^^ "^ ^jdkb- ^£.. .y^.. . /^J ■.f ^ .- !5^rs^ iii: HB^" Fig. 285.— Wilkie. Tlie Wind Fiddler. National Gallery. London. and later became a member of that august l)ody. That he i\ as a prodigious worker his five thousand designs show. Sir David Wilkie (178.5-1841) was a Scotchman by birth, but he spent most of his life as an artist in London. The first jiicture that captivated the Londoner was his "Milage Poli- tician," in which he very cleverly voiced the petty jealousies and party strifes of the small country town. His wonderful skill, and free, masterful manner in giving details of village life, fascinated his city-bred patrons. During the early and best ])eriod of his career he painted the well-known ]iicture, "The Blind Fiddler" (Fig. 285), in the National Gallery, Lon- don. Not since the days of the "little masters" in Holland had the home life of the lowl\- been so realistically portrayed. SIK DAVID WXl.KIE oS7 Wilkie was a great admirer (if the Dutcli aucl Flemish masters, and followed their methods \ery closely in his actual work- manship, yet he remained true to liimself in depictinjj; tlie varied expressions of merriment and ])athos that his aoire pictures represent. Even his management of light expresses the difference between the well-fed family of the entertained and the foi'lorn appearance of the homeless entertainers. When Sir David was forty years old he went to the Conti- nent and spent a number of years studying the old masters. His own individualit}' was not strong enough to stand against the influence of the works of sucli men as A'elasquez, Correggio, and Rembrandt. He now changed the style of his painting from the genre to portrait and historical subjects, which change was not at all to his credit. CHAPTER XXXIX AMLSOX 1 KIJME — CONSTABLE TURNER — LAXDSEER OXE hundred years after landscape painting reached its height in Holland, Richard Wilson (1713-1782) began painting landscapes in England. He began his art career under an oljscure portrait painter and reached considerable jirominence in that branch. When he was nearly forty years old he decided to go to the Continent, and then his training became almost en- tirely French and Italian; but his work, although having some clas- sic qualities, was stamped by a way of his own that made it distinctly English. His high ideals, true love for nature, and sincere desire to follow her teach- ings, gave a truth and sincerity^ to his compositions that have placed him among the world's great landscape painters. In the treatment of "Cicero's Mlla " (Fig. 2S6), owned by Thomas Agnew it Son, London, one recognizes his con- ventional manner in the arrangement of the composition. The classic Ijuilding on the right, with a sober liackground of gra}' i-ock and dark gi-een trees, is offset by the glittering expanse of water in the center iif the picture and the cloud-flecked sky in the distance. The figure in the foreground inspires an .3SS -Wilson. Cicero's Villa. AMLSUX— CROME 389 interest in the scene that Hfe ahvays adds to e\-en the most beautiful landscape. At the .Metropolitan Museum, Xew Yoik City, is "The Storm" (Fig. 287), another characteristic painting of Wilson's. He has the same con^•entional arrangement of heavy fore- oTOund with expanse of sky in the di.stance — the latter liandled in a masterly manner. Fifty years later a school of considerable importance was started by .John Crome (1769-1821) at Norwich. " Old Crome," as he was called, was decidedly original in his landscapes. He Fro. 2S7. — Wilson. The Storm. Metropolitan Mu.^eum, New York City, knew the Dutch artists, and may have been influenced l:)y them, l)ut his scenes are English scenes. His fiekls and trees are English fields and trees. One feels delight in the English country when looking at his paintings, even if his work is a little harsh and filled with too much detail. His scenes are exceedingly simple, but some of his effects ai-e admirable. Nothing could be simpler than the group of trees in "The Hautbois Common" (Fig. 288), in the .Metropolitan ilu.seum, New York City, but not even Rousseau could have portrayeil them with more loving care than has "Old Crome." His trutli loses all its harshness when he puts on canvas the compan- ions of his childhood. 3;to ENGLISH PAIXTIXG The change in the chaiacter of landscape painting which John Constable (1776-1857) made by choosing high-noon, when the sun was at the zenith, as natui'e's most attractive ]ihase, gave an originality to landscape painting unknown before, and marked Constable as England's greatest genius in that line of art. His familiarit}' with and intense love for nature gave him the right to present her in his own way, even if that way was contrar}' to all precedent. The pui'e white light of the noonday sun sifts down through the dense foliage of tree and vine, glistening and sparkling on his landscapes as does the virigin snow as it sifts through the leafless branches and J-'ri;. 28.S. — ("rome. Hautboi= Common. Metrojiolitan Mu.seum, New York <'ir\-. Sparkles on the lingering grass around the ti'ee trunks. It is no wonder that "Coiistal^le's snow" describes his light effects as no other words could. Constable's father was a miller, so the boy's early life was spent amid the picturesc|ue surroundings of mill-wheel and wind-mill. The light on the running water and on the shifting clouds was his Ijii-thright. He was as sensitive to the effect of light and shadow on the face of natui'e as he was of the appi-oval and disapproval of his dearest friends. In his treat- ment of them, he never forgot the words of Benjamin West, as spoken to him early in his career: "Always remember, sir, that light and shadow never stand still." .\s we stand before his "Hay-^^'ain" (Fig. 2S9), in the National rjallei'y, London, somehow we lose sight of its being JOHX CONSTABLE rilll only a picture, and are looking with the eyes of the artist at the scene he is painting. A^'e can hear with him the splash of the water as the horses ford the stream and feel the cool bieeze that comes so gently from under the shade of the overhanging trees. "The Hay-Wain " was exhibited in Paris 1824, where it greatl}' impressed the French landscape painters, who were just developing into the ]-!arbizon school of lS.30. Those artists recognized in Constable the " elemental," and accepted that principle as the " keynote " in perfecting the new school of landscape jiainting in France. XeNer did Constable make a truer statement in vindicating his \o\e for the country around his own home than when he said: "I ha^•e always succ'eeded best with my native scenes"; then later; "They have always charmed me, and I hope they always will." Pei'haps his intense de- votion to the familiar scenes of his life, as they appealed to him in the early summer months, did narrow his ait, and confine it in too limited a space, but the wonderful largeness of his mind in compre- hending and recording the varying effects of the atmosjjhei'e during his working hours — fi-om ten to five — gave him the key that has unlocked many of natui'e's seci-ets to us. One of the great desires of this painter of nature was — to use his own words — to paint "light — dews — breeze — Ijloom — and freshness — not one of which has 3-et been perfected on the canvas of any painter in the world." He was a close student of the Dutch artists — es]5ecially Hol:)))ema — liut. unlike them, he saw vivid greens unmixed with l)rown as he lodked riut on the field.s and groves. Then, too, he had the courage to put rm canvas what he saw, so for the first time the fresh green- of the grass and ti'ees l^ecame a most interestiny one who shall see you, 'Yon is Hector's wife, who still among knightly Tro,ians Bravest proved in the fray, when Troy was with battle encircled.' So some day will they speak, and again will the pain l:ie repeated. Since of so faithful a hu.sliand bereft, you will suffer in bondage." Lord Leighton, as he became in his last days, was president of the Royal Academy for seventeen years. When he died he was laid to rest in the crypt of St. Paul's Cathedral, b}- the side of Benjamin West, and near Turner, the poet-landsca|iist. Edward Burne-.Jones (1S33-1S9S), who was born in an obscure corner of Birmingham, could hardly have been bi-ought up with environs more adverse to the development of an artistic temperament. He certainly became an artist in s]iite of brick walls and the lack of story books and poetry. ]iut 4U4 THE PRE-RAPHAELITE BROTHERHOOD this paucity of educating surroundings mattered little to one who, in writing to a friend, could say, "I mean by a picture, a beautiful, romantic dream of something that never was, never will be, in a light better than any light that ever shone, in a land no one can define or remember — only desire." Burne- Jones was a true idealist. His father, wishing him to become a clergyman of the Church of England, sent him to a prepara- tory school, and finally, at the age of nineteen, he went up to Oxford. There all the ideals and aspirations of his boyhood longings were realized in the friendship that was formed with AVilliam ^lorris, a fellow pupil, who was afterward known as the "poet-upholsterer" of the famous firm of ilorris & Co. In the Christmas vacation of 18.55 he went to London, and there met Rossetti, than whom no artist was better fitted to direct the future of this sensitive, highly imaginati\-e idealist. At once the older man recognized the genius of the young student, and advised an immediate abandonment of Oxford and its degrees for a serious study of art. Without academic training, but by the most strenuous effort, he became one of the most subtle of painters, combining, as he did, the delicate charm of Botticelli and the true nobility of invention of ;\Ian- tegna with the decorative sense of the present. There is a sincerity revealed in e^'ery painted vision that assures us that he believed in what he painted, and that to him the dream was a reality. If we are seeking the representation of a scene that we have seen and loved, then Burne-.Iones would not sati.sfy us, but if we wish reproduced a beautiful dream, something that was so elusive that only the faintest trace is left of the exquisite pleasure we felt when in Dreamland, then turn to this artist and look at one of his strange, weird, mysterious, and fascinating compositions. "The Golden Stairs" (Fig. 296), owned by Lord Battersea, is the most widely known of his paintings. It is a picture "almost as sweet and delicate in color as a lily," but so elusive in merming that even the ai'tist himself was at a loss what to name it. At first he called it "The King's Wedding," then ".Music on the Stairs," and finally "The Golden Stairs." The 11 "te of sadness that ]ier^-ades every theme he represents has GEORGE FREDERICK WATTS 405 much the characterof the invahd who enjoi/s poor health — an ex- ultation over the possibility of being sad and yet beautiful, too. When George Frederick Watts (1817-1904) said, "-My intention has been not so much to paint pictures that will charm the eye as to suggest great thoughts that will ajipcal to the imagination and the heart, and kindle all that is best and noblest in humanity," he gave a true index to his own char- acter. W'hile Watts was a self-taught artist, he did not ignore all rules and regulations, but he held that the life-lessons he had to teach were far abo\'e the methods used. He was an ear- nest, thoughtful, high-principled man, never swer\'ing from the path of high ideals, and working incessantly to accom- plish the task he had set for himself, iluch of his work was done \'\'ithout pay, that he might the better teach his fellow man that there is something more in life than material gain. His own words on flhat art ought to teach speak to us as no one else can. In a letter to j\[iss Julia Cart Wright he writes: "I often think that in the future, and in stronger hands than mine, art may vet speak as great poetrv ^'^''- 296.— Bunip-jrmes. ,^ . ' ' ' ■ The Golden Stairs, itselt, with the solemn and majestic ring Owned by Lord Bat- . " tersea, London. With which the Hebrew prophet spoke to the Jews of old, demanding noble aspirations, condemning in the most trenchant manner prevalent vices, and warning in deep tones against lapses from morals and duties." That his own works teach the lessons of the prophets of old, the collection of his paintings in the Tate Gallery, London, testifies. As we linger in the Watts room we then realize what a delit we owe that pure, noble-minded man. While symbolism is one of the most pronounced features of his pic- tures it is so elemental in character that even the most ignorant could not mistake his meaning. In the l)eautiful picture of "Orpheus and Eurydice" (Fig. 297), who would not exclaim with Pope: 400 THE TRE-RAPHAELITE BROTHERHOOD "But soon, too soon the lover t\ims his eyes; Again slie lulls, again she dies, she dies!" even if the pathetic story nf this ill-fated pair was not fulh' known? We never cease to wonder why this gifted son of A])ollo could not have curbed his impatience and waited until the portal ■sm^s passed and the upper world reached before looking back at his rescued bride. Not the most ravishing music on his lyre could induce Pluto to re- lease his beloved the second time. Watts painted two versions of this classical myth — both very Ijeauti- ful. In painting the ideal he never for a moment lost sight of the re- ality of the figure as defined by the outline so carefully fixed in color with his brush. His outline is as much a real part of his painting as Hogarth's famous "Line of Beauty.'' Xo gift to the English people has added more to the glory of the nation than Watts' series of por- traits representing her distinguished men, presented by the artist and now forming a part of the National Portrait Gal- lery, London. Li these magnificent likenesses the artist has fulfilled Tennyson's lines: "As when a painter, poring on a face, Divinely, through all hindrance, finds the man Behind it . . ." Pig. 297.— Wnft Eurvdice. Tat linn. Orpheus -Tnd Cialle!\\*, Lon- thus preserving the men who have made the England of to- day, Wliat wonderful men they were! — William Gladstone, R(}bert Browning, .John Stuart ^ilills, Thomas Carlyle, Lord Tennyson, Lord Lytton, Cardinal ;\Ianning, Cardinal Newman, and a score of others. Only men of character could stand the test of his prol;)ing brush. The very soul of the sitter is expo.sed to view. AA'ho could not read the intense longing for a creed PUYNTER 407 that would satisfy the gi-eat soul of Cardinal Xewnian (Tig. 298 — sec p. 398), in the deej) lines of the face? And who could not feel the peace that came at last, in the sensiti\e mouth and clear, steady gaze of the sad gra3'-blue eyes? Sir Edward John Poynter (1836- ) was appointed piesi- dent of the Royal Academy in 1896. He was born in I'ai'is and, although he was taken to England in his infancy, he rctuined to Paris when twenty 3'ears old and had most of his art training in that city, where he became French in method, depaiting Fig. 299. — Poynter. Catapult. Liverpool. from many of the traditions exclusively English. Poynter loved classical subjects, and has painted them ^\itli a correct- ness of drawing and a power of composition that remind one of the old Italian masters. His "firm hand, clear eye. and great industry" have given again the form of Greek art, but, alas! the spirit of that ideal art has eluded him. One of his strongest pictures is the "Catapult "(Fig. 299). The magnificent drawing of the figures, especially the nude figure in the fore- ground, is wonderful. The great power of the battering-ram in breaking down the walls of old Carthage seems to infuse the straining muscles of those determined, stalwart men with some of its own strength and destro}'ing power. AMERICAN PAINTING Fig 3U9.— Whistler. Portrait of the Artist's Luxembourg, Pahs. — See page 423. Mother. CHAPTER XLI ^YEST — COPLEY — PEALK STUART — TRUIIBULL DOUriHTY LEUTZE IXNE.SiS THE late development of American art can hardly lie entirely attributed to the newness of the country and the hardships to be overcome, for the most original of Ameiica's first artists — Gilbert Stuart — was born during the lifetime of the founder of English painting — AVilliam Hogarth. It may be that inheritance was really the obstacle to be overcome before the nati^•e American could respond to the wondeiful artistic surroundings of natural scenery and native inhaljitant. The picturesque dress of the Indian and his wigwam of skins, with its setting of forest trees, moss-covered rocks, and water- falls, were certainly admirable subjects for an artist's brush. Not even the struggle for bare existence could have killed an inherited artistic instinct. The sturdy traits of the pioneer were the dominating cjualities brought to America b}' the colonists. The artistic temperament developed later, and almost ab novo through environment. True, the first American artists went to Europe for training, but they only repeated the history of the mother country and other nations of Europe in seeking the fountain head of the art world — Italy. While the most distinctly national art was landscape painting of the Hudson River school and Inness, there were a series of portrait painters who stood for something more than mere imitators, even if they were foreign-trained. When early American painters are mentioned, immediately Benjamin West (1738-1820) comes to the mind witii a mental picture of him as a little boy sitting by a cradle painting the likeness of his baby sister with a brush made from hair out of puss}-'s tail. The stories of his early achievements are as much a part of his identity as that he was born in America, so it matters 411 412 AMEPaCAN PAIXTIXG little whether he was an infant prodigy or not. Even if he were not a great artist, we are rather proud of the business ability that made him a necessary adviser of King George III., and resulted in his being the real instigator in founding the Ro3'al Academy. West spent his boyhood days in Philadelphia, where the Indian in his untramnieled life appealed to his artistic nature, and gave him just the material for picture making, which mater- ial he used when he painted "The Death of General Wolfe." His audacitj^ in step- ping out of the beaten path, and clothing his characters in the cos- tumes of the people, the country, and the time, brought him great applause in spite of the disapproval of so eminent an artist as Reynolds. West went to Italy when quite young; after a short sojourn in that country he started for home, stopping in England for a business call. The call extended over the rest of his life, and gave him a final resting place in the crypt of St. Paul's Cathedral. Besides a series of large canvases on English historj- made by request of the king, West began a series of religious pictures, one of the most noted of which is "Death on the Pale Horse." in the Academy at Philadelphia. There was very little individ- uality in his work, yet few artists have kept so uniform a stand- ard of merit covering so large a number of pictures. According to the standards of the art of his time, he was a master. In some of his smaller canvases he has overcome the formality of the purely historical, and has added a note of reality that reminds one of the artist's own Quaker charms of straight- 300.— West. St. Peter Den^ii: Hampton Court, Englaml. : Chri.st. COPLEY— I'EALE 41o forward truthfulness. This is fcU in his painting nf "St. Peter Den3'ing Christ" (Fig. 30(1). Tlie eai'nest, impetuous manner of St. Peter, embod^'ing botli de^•otion and coward- liness, is given with a touch of i-ealisni that s|)eaks to the heart. The peculiar reddish-lirown setting tliat cJiaracterized West's palette did not raise him to the rank of a great colorist, l)Ut, at least, his color was more agreeable than that of many of his contemporaries. Another American painter very closely associated with West, and one who confined himself almost entirely to portrait painting, was .John Singleton Co]:>le>' (1737-181.1). Possilily Copley was more of an American in his art than West, for Ids artistic habits were formed l)efore he left his native country — when thii'ty-six years old — and foreign training simply modified without changing them. Coi-iley is often called "the American ^'an Dyck," but he is more coi'rectly classed among English artists. It was through the influence of West that Copley made his entrance, not alone into the art world of London, liut as an exhibitor in the Ro}'al Academy. West, upon seeing the picture to be exhibited — "The Boy and the Flying Squirrel" — was so enthusiastic that he exclaimed: "What delicious coloring! It is worthy of Titian himself." Perhaps we ovte the greatest reA'erence to Charles W'ilson Peale (17-11-1827) as the first truly American arti.st, and the first one to make a portrait of Washington. He went to Lon- don and studied under West, but after four years he returned to his native land. He added to his craft as an artist a variety of trades, which did not prevent him, however, from using his brush even when in camp as a soldier of the Revolution. An interesting story is told of his painting a miniature of Washington while in camp "in a room so small and pooily lighted that Peale, who stood by the window, was forced to ask the distinguished model to sit on the l^ed." He made fourteen portraits of the Father of Our Country (Fig. 301); several of them are in the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts, which institution he helped to establish in Philadelphia in 1S09. As an artist Peale had few of those qualities that would make a pleasing picture from an aesthetic standpoint, l)ut his sincerity 414 A.MERICAX PAINTING and veracity redeemed, in a measure, liis hard and unsym- pathetic style. His portraits of Washington lack that verj' element of intimate good fellowship that an artist with a fine, sympathetic nature reveals of his sitter. Even the fact that he was "a mild, benevolent, and good man" did not give him the power to depict the soul of his patron. No truly American household has been complete for the last hundred years without a copy of Stuart's "Athena?um Portrait of \Yashington" '(Fig. 302), now in the Boston iluseum of Fine Arts. Of all the original portraits of Washington attrilj- uted to Gilbert Stuart (17.5.5- 1S2S), only three were painted from Washington direct. In a note at the foot of a letter from the President, Stuart writes: "In lookmg over my papers to find one that had a signature of George Washing- ton, I found this, asking me when he should sit for his portrait, which is now owned by Samuel Williams of London. I have thought it proper that it should be his, especially as he owns the only original paint- ing I ever made of AVashing- I painted a third, but I rubbed Fig. .301.— Peale. Pr.rtrait of Washing- ton. Metropfilitan Mu.seuin, New York Citv. ton, except one I own m^'self. it out. Signed, Gt. Stuart." The portrait owned b>' Stuart is the one known as the "Athena'um Washington," because after the artist's death it ^^as presented to the Boston Athenaeum; it is simply loaned to the Museum of Fine Arts. The one owned by Samuel Williams (the ^larquis of Lansdowne) is a full-length portrait. A written statement of Stuart's sa^'s that it was sent to England, ■\\hei'e it is now owned l)y the Earl of Roseliery. It is claimed, hfiwever, ])y the PcnnsvKania Academv of Fine Arts, Phila- GILBERT STUART 415 delphia, that the one they have, bearhig Stuart's signature, is the original canvas. In writing of Gilbert Stuart we are dealing with a man who was as strong in artistic originality as the great painters of Europe. As a portrait painter he had no superior. His philosophic mind and keen insight into the motives of men revealed to hini traits of char- acter in his sitter that enabled him to paint not only a man's reputation but his real self. He concentrated all his thought on the head of his subject. When criticised for the careless paint- ing of accessories, he replied: "I copy the works of God, and leave the clothes to tailors and mantua-makers." While the arrangement of Stuart's palette was simplicity itself, his skill in laying his colors was so won- derful that his canvases are al- most as fresh and clear to-day as when they first came from the artist's brush. West remarked to his own pupils: "It is no use to steal Stuart's color: you want to paint as he does, you must steal his eyes." From early boyhood Stuart had the typical characteristics of a genius: capable but wayward in school, self-willed, high- spirited, at the head and front of all mischief, and a general favorite with his companions. His talent for painting began to show itself early in his teens. Then l:)egan the vicissitudes of fortune that are almost in\'ariabh' the forerunners of success in carrying out a cherished plan without money and suliject to the infirmities of personal inconsistencies. But the surest mark of genius is success in spite of oljstacles. Stuart's success as a portrait painter is estimated in quantit}' as well as ciualit>'. After his return to America in 179'2 lie painted aliout eight hundred portraits, which do not include his unfinished pic- FiG. 302.— Stuart, of W.ishingtcm. Fine Arts. Athenppum Portrait Boston Museum of if 41G AMERICAN PAINTING tures, too numerous to be counted. At the death of this talented man, his friend, Washington Allston (the artist), wrote in an obituary notice, "In the world of art, ilr. Stuart has left a void that will not soon be filled. And well may his country say: 'A great man has passed from among us.' But Gilljert Stuart has berjueathed her what is paramount to power Fig. 30.3. — Trumbull. Portrait of Alexander Hamilton. Metropolitan Museum, New York City. — since no power can command it — the rich inheritance of his fame." When John Trumbull (1756-1843) was paid $32,000 for four pictures of American hi.storical events, to fill compart- ments in the Rotunda of the Capitol at Washington, he prob- ably received more than they would bring to-day, if their value depended upon their artistic merit. As a recorder of American history Trumliull deserves some consideration, but as an artist little can be said in his favor. His active service in the Revo- lutionary War lirought him in contact with the leading men of tlie times, so that he never lacked for sitters of renown. In DOUGHTY— LEUT ZE 417 fact his reputation as an ai'tist depends on whom and what he painted. To have the honor of making a " Porti-ait of Alex- ander Hamilton" (Fig. 303) was sufficient of itself to claim recognition for the ai'tist, and also place the portrait among the treasures of the Metropolitan ifuseum, New York City. Hamilton's dignified bearing was just the cjuality that appealed to Trumbull, who throughout his life believed in the dignit}' of art; then the bright, cheerful expression of face that was so characteristic of Hamilton overcame, in a measure, the hard, formal brush of the artist, and the delicate skin and rosy cheeks were incentives that called for his most agreeable colors. Landscape painting in America began about 1S2.5, and under the leadership of Thomas Doughty (179.3- 1S.56). He was born in Philadelphia; was early aj)- prenticed to a leather man- ufacturer and even liecame a manufacturer himself, but when twenty-eight years old he decided to tje- come a painter. Doughty was the first native artist to convince the American people of the charm that the "silvery tone'' adds to the beauty of our landscapes. His very effective picture in the ^letropoli- tan iluseum, New York City, of the view "On the Hudson" (Fig. 304) is a beautiful example of his skill in giving a " silvery tone " to his canvas. Dought}' worked in London and in Paris, but he remained true to his American spirit, and painted his landscapes of home scenes with so much sincerity and truth that they brought him great popularity and are still highly prized. The man who has preserved to us on canvas the most noted events in the American Revolution is Emmanuel Leutze (1S16-1S68), a German. He was born in Wiirtemberg, Bavaria, but was brought to Philadelphia when a child. Yery earlv he began to show a love for drawing, and through the Fig. .304.— Doughty. On the Hudson. Metro- poht.Tn Museum, New York City. 41.S AMERICAN PAIXTINX; sale of his own drawing.s he earned enough to return to Europe and enter the Diisseldorf Academy. Leutze was a man cast in a large mold, capaljle of grand enthusiasm and of high ideals. He came to us as the representative of the Diisseldorf movement — striving to overcome the artificial by attempting to reproduce something of the life of the present. His art was often at fault — crude and harsh in color and technic — but when contemplating his work we feel that we are in the pres- ence of a colossal mind. The large painting of "Washington Crossing the Delaware" (Fig. 30.5), in the ^letropolitan [Museum. Xew York City, is typical of his most epic style. The fact that Leutze made his studies of the breaking up of river-ice from Fir;. -SO-D. — Leutze. Washington Crossing the Delaware, iletropoiitan Musetnn. New York City. watching the ice in the Rhine that flowed at the foot of his garden at Diisseldorf may e.xcuse his overlooking the tremen- dousness of that event when the ice in the Delaware River is going out. General Washington could scarcely have as.sumed that dignified attitude in reality, but the heroic spirit of "fight- ing for freedom" that every man expresses awakens in us a feeling of patriotic jjleasure. When George Inness (1S2.5-1S94) began to make liimself felt in America he caused almost as much controversy among artists as Turner did in England and Puvis de Chavannes did in France. He was an inno^•ator, and all inno^•ators are looked upon with suspicion until they prove themselves in the right. That Inness did prove himself in the light is seen in landscape painting to-day. He threw off the yoke of representing merely GEORGE IXXESS 419 externalities, and, with his poetic instinct, gave a subtle mean- ing- to his interpretations of nature that proved him a genius. He was often erratic, many times ^•er>• unequal, laut ne\ev ^^H ^■j ^^■^^wi^^^ ^-^h"*^- ''^^S^^^ ;^fer#s^~' .-^^^W(> ^ ^ ..•4HHataMBHBI fibfer; ^-Xr^ * - - ■ Fi'-i. 30H. — Inne.ss. Tlie Delaware \'alley. Metropolifan .Museum, Xe^- Ymk (.'it\". prosaic or commonplace. The poetry of his scenes is fascinating. Who could be insensible to the charm of ''The Delaware ^"alle^" " (Fig. 306), after seeing it through Inness' eyes in the ^letro- politan Museum, New York City? We return again and again Fic. 30' ness. Landscaije. Metropolitan Museum, Xew York City. to gaze at that c(uiet, peaceful valley and watch with delight the drifting clouds as they hang low o\-er the Ijorderin,"- hills. His appreciation of the French landscape school of LS3() is shown in his paintings, ftut he shows it in his own ingenuous, 420 AMERICAN PAINTING lai'ge-souled manner, with no intimation of the imitator about him. Turning to another one of his landscapes (Fig. 307j in the Museum, we are impressed with the wonderful tact with which he has united the immensity of the outdoors and the human element, preserving at the same time the most perfect harmony between them. We are first interested in the wheat field in the foreground Ijordering the ri^•er, then our eye follo^vs the stream as it winds off in the distance until it is lost to view in the great lieyond as naturalh" and dreamily as it 'i^'ould in real life. The slanting rays of the late afternoon sun, glisten- ing on the water and glowing like burnished gold on the shea-\-es of wheat, shed a mellow light over everything in its path. Even the fine green of the trees is given a richer, tenderer tone. It was a poet-artist who painted that tranc^uil scene. CHAPTER XLII EASTMAN JOHXSON — WHISTLKR JOHX LA FAROE VEDDER — WINSLOW HOMER — HENRY MOSLER BLASHFIELD CHASE — ALEXANDER — SARGENT — !\LARR 4S soon as an indi\'idual or a people has reafhed the r\ .stage of development that calls for a recognition from the world, it gives an impetus to the whole being that raises each part to a much higher standard. When the United States celebrated its hundredth anniversary at Philadelphia, in 1876, and the nations of the earth came to congratulate, the whole body politic assumed a new dignit}', and each part became conscious of its own importance. This was particularly- true of the fine arts. Our position as an agricultural people, as a manufacturing people, as an inventive people, and a gen- erally progressive people had been recognized and commented upon, but, except in individual cases, our standing in the art world as a nation had attracted no special attention. From this time in our history we are to be reckoned with from the artistic standpoint as well, although it has taken another twenty-five years before the artistic training could be gained in our art centers. They were not all young artists who came under the spell of the new activity awakened by the celebration of the nation's birthday, but artists who for a quarter of a century had Ijeen keeping abreast of the times and were keen for any mo^•ement where the trend was toward progress. Such a man was East- man .Johnson (1824-1906). Trained in the Diisseldorf school, in Italy, Paris, and Holland — staying four 3'ears at The Hague — he returned to America, opened a studio in New York, and there devoted his talents to painting American subjects in his own American manner. In his delineation of American negroes he was unique and original, giving, as he did, many of their 421 4-2-2 AMERICAN PAINTING natural traits of character that gives us better understand- ing of them and their future development. One of his strongest paintings is "The Old Kentucky Home" (Fig. 308), which was exhibited in the Paris Salon of 1867 and again at the Centennial of 1876. As a portrait painter, ilr. Johnson was a man of no mean merit. His good taste and fine judgment Fig. 30S.— Johnson. The OM Kentucky Home. Pari.? Salon of 1867. made a place for him among the young men of genius, and his knowdedge of modern methods kept him in touch with their ])lan of woi'k in any particular line. No greater genius has arisen in the art world since Rem- brandt's time than .James A. ^IcXeill Whistler (1834-1903), but to separate the artist from the man, bristling with eccen- tricities and constantly at variance with the painter and the Philistine alike, is not an easy task to-day. The time will come when Whistler, the great master, will fulfill his own words in the world's estimate of his works of art. "A work of art," said he, "should appear to the painter like a flower — perfect in its budding as in its flowering, with no reason to explain its presence and without need of beautifying it — a joy for the artist, an ilhision for the philanthrope, an enigma for the Ijotanist, an accident of sentiment and of alliteration for tlie man of lettei's." Whistler was Ijorn in Lowell, ^lass., an' a^ Laily ^lacljeth. Tate (jaller\", Lnn.ion. Mr. Sargent is equally at home in portraying the tragedy queen, as his painting of " Ellen Terry as Lady ^Macbeth'' (Fig. 316) testifies. One critic writes: "Sargent's ]iicture of her (I']llen Terry) as Lady ;\Iacbeth will stand out among the pic- SARGENT— MARK 43 o tures of distinguished women as one who bears no resemblance to anybody else." It would hardly be possiljle to conceive of a more subtle union of characters into a perfect being tliaii is portrayed in his Lady ^lacbeth. It is Shakespeare's Lad>- ilacbeth, and j'et it is Ellen Terry who has made her alive. It is Ellen Terry's Lady ^lacbeth, and yet it is Mi-. Sai-gent who has caught her on canvas in his own original way without detracting in the smallest measure from her originality. The three characters are perfectly distinct, yet perfectly blended. Mr. Sargent's portrait of Jlr. William Chase is soon to be one of the treasures of the Metropolitan Museum, Ne^\■ y(jrk City. The portrait was made as a testimonial to Jlr. Chase, "on account of his unceasing devotion to American students and American art." Carl IMarr is another one of our American artists who, unrecognized in his own country, went to Europe, and liy genius and great perseverance has won a name for himself. His return to this country is looked upon as a national gain. Mil- waukee, his native city, welcomes his home-coming with all the honor due him. She may weW be proud of her famous son! One of the first pictures he painted, that was recognized with a medal by the art critics of Germany, was "Ahasuerus, the Wandering .Jew" (Fig. 317). For some years the pictuie found no purchaser, but it was finally Ixiught and presented to the iletropolitan Museum, New York City. ^Ir. ilarr has succeeded in giving just that sense of mystery to the desolate scene of rock, sand, water, and sky that intensifies the legendary story. What a world of despair that crouching figure of the old Jew represents! Since he refused rest to the Savior when He was bearing His cross, he has wandered over the earth, ever seeking death, but never finding it. And yet the woman, so beautiful and so perfect in her young maturity, has Iteen found and snatched from life and all its promises. The old, old question of why "Death aims with fouler spite At fairer marks" was nevei' more forcefully asked than in this ])ainting. Mr. j\Iai'r's native city was very proud when the opportunity 484 AMERICAN PAINTING came to purchase his masterpiece, "The Flagellants." The painting is gigantic in size and shows the artist's skill in filling a large canvas. It is hoped that he will enter the field of Fig. 317. — Marr. The Wandering Jew. Metropolitan Museum, New York City. mural painting and become one of the decorators in beautifying our public buildings. Our American artist has become a universal artist, represent- ing in his art universal truths that appeal alike to all mankind. His name appears among artists whose countries have had hundreds of years of art history. This proves that he, too, is the inheritor of the ages, and is now one of the controlling influences of the twentieth-century Renaissance. INDEX INDEX At:L(Jfiii,v, Royal, ;i7S-;i70 Albertiiielli, Mariottc, ll.'), 117-1'2;! Alexander, John, 4'21, i'i'.) Alma-Tadema, Sir Lawrenre, 2.)(i, 2(i'Z-'2().'i Augelico, Fra Giovanni, 3.'!, .'!7— 11, 47, 53, T-i. 90, HH, ii'i, 270, '.Wi Apelles, 10-11 liarociio, Federifjo, 136, );3!)-140 B;irtolonimeo, Fra, 104, 11,), 117-123, 12.5 IJandry, Paul, 3,5,3, 356, 35S Bellini, Giovanni, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53- .55, 5R, 143, 145, 148, 159, '248, 286 Blake, William, 378, 384-38(i Blashfield, Edwin II., 421, 427-428 BGcklin, Arnold, 301, 304-.'!05 Bol, Ferdinand, '207, 208, 209 Bonheur, Ro.sa, 353, 355-356 Borcli, Gerard Ter, 207, 213, 214, 218 Bottieelli. Sandro, 11, 61, (i;!-60, 78, 248, 404 Bduguereau, \V. Adolplie, 353, 356, 359-360 Bnuts, Diericli, 249-250 Braraante, 93, 97 Breton, Jules, 353-355 Bril. Paul, 249, '252 Brouwer, Adrian, 207-208 Brueghel, Jan, 249, 251-252, 261 Burne-Jones, Sir Edward, ,399, 403- 405 Cahanel, Alexandre, 353, .350, 360- ;«il Caracci, Annibale, 17,3-175 Caravaijffio, Mielielangelo Aineriglu da, 173, 179, 180-181, 268 Carolu.s-Duran, Charles Augnste Eniil. 430 Carpaccio, Vittorc, 49, 52, 55-58 Catacouib.s, Paintiiii;.^ in, ](i-17, 19, 21 Chardin, Jean Baptisfe Kinicon, 315, 325-326 Chase, William :\Ierritt, 421, 428, 43.3 Chavannes, I'uvis de I'ierre, 353, 35(i- 358, 418 ' Cima da Cono<,diaiio, Criov. Hatti^t.-i, 49, 58-59 Cimabue, Giovaniu', 25-28, 29, 369 Clonet, Franc;iiis, 315, 317 Constable, John, 226, 345, 388, 3itO- 392 Cofiley, John Siufjleton, 411 Corot, Jean Ba]jtiste Caniille, 224, 345, 348 Corregijio (Antonio Allet,rri), il, 128, 131-1.35, 139, 140, 143, 173, 322, 387 Courbet, Gustave, 353, 3(il-362 Couture, Thomas, ,339, 344, 361-3(i2, 424 Cranach (the Elder), Lucas, 291, 298- 300 Credi, Ijorenzo di, 61, 68, SO Crivelli, Carlo, 49, 52-53 Crome, John (Old Crome), 388, 389 Cuyp, Aelbert, 224, '2,30-231 Dautiigny, Charles Frau(;ois, 224, 315, 348-349 David, Jae.'i. 334, 335, 339 Decamjis, Alexaiidi'e (iabriel, 3:59, 343-344 Defresfjer, Franz, .301, ,307-309 13 438 INDEX Delacroix, Ferdinand Victor Eugene, 339, 340-3-U Delaroche, Ilippolyte (Paul), 339, 340, 341-3)5, 344 Denner, Balthasar, 301-302 Detaille, Jean Bajrtiste Edouard, 353, 363-304 Diaz de la Pena Narciso Vigilio, iil, 345, 349-351 Dolci, Carlo, 173, 179-180 Domenirhino (Domenico Zampieri), 173, 175 Dore, \j. C. Paul Gustave, 353, 364- 365 Dou, Gerard, 215-216, 218, 396 Doughty, Thomas, 411, 417 Doyen, Gabriel Francois, 336 Duccio di Buoninsegna, 25, 27, 28 Dnpre, Jules, 227, 345, 349-352 Diirer, Albrecht, 55, 148, 151, 179, 194, 203, 283, 285-290, 291, 298,300 Dyck, Sir Anthony, 256-260, 262, 270, 291, 413 Eastlake, Sir Charles, 378 Eycks, The van (Huljert and Jan), 36, 59, 128, 239, 241-243, 249, 253, 317 Fabriano, Gentile da, 33, .36-37 Farge, John La, 421, 424 Fayoum, Paintings from, 6, 11, 45 Flinck, Govaert, 207, 209 Forli, Melozzo da, 69, 72-73, 132 Fortuny, Mariano, 267, 278-279 Francesca, Piero della, 69-70, 72, 73 Francia, Francesco (Raibolini), 76, 81-82, 132 Fromentin, Eugene, 339, 343-344 Gaddi, Taddio, 33-35 Gainsborough, Thomas, 360, 376-377 Gardner (Madame Bouguereau), 3(i0 Gerard, Baron Fran(;ois Pascal, 329, 333-334 Gericault, Jean Louis, A. T., 339, 340 Gerome, Jean Leon, 353, 356, 358- 359 Ghirlandajo, Domenico, 61-63, 78, 91-92, 98 Giorgione (Giorgio Barbarelli), il, 143-147, 148, 155, 156, 159 Giotto di Bondone, 25, 29-32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 40, 42 Goya y Lucientes, Francisco, 267, 277-278 Goyen, Jan van, 217, 224-225 Gozzoli, Benozzo, 42, 46-48 Grant, Sir Francis, 378 Grueze, Jean Baptiste, 261, 315, 326- 328 Gros, Baron Antoine Jean, 329, 334- 335, 340, 344 Hals, Franz, 193, 195-198, 207. 210, 214, 256-258 Heist, Bartholonieus, van der, 207, 209, 210-211 Hobbema, Meindert, 224, 226-228, 391 Hoffmann, Heinrich Johann ^Michael Ferdinand, 301, 306-307 Hogarth, William, 217, 327, 369, 371- 374, 408, 411 Hokusai, 423 Holbein (the Younger), Hans, 285, 291-298, 300, 371, 404 Homer, Winslow, 421, 425-426 Hooch, Pieter de, 215, 221-222 Hunt, William Holman, 399-400 Ligres, Jean Auguste Dominique, 329, ,3.34, 339, 340, 341, 342 Inness, George. 411. 418-420 Israels, Josef, 224, 234 Jacque, Charles. 353, 355 Johnson, Eastman. 421, 422 Jordaens, Jacob, 256, 260-261 Kauffman, Angelico. 301, 302-303 Landseer, Sir Edwin Henry, 388, 395- 396 Lawrence. Sir Thomas, 378, 383 Lebrun, Charles, 315, 320-321 IXDKX 4o!) Lebruii, Marie Klizubetli Louise Vigee, i.5-t, 3^29, ;J35-3y8 Leighton. Sir Frederick (Lord Lei^li- toii), 378, 399, 40^-403 Lely, Sir Peter, '2.50, 'iHi Lenbaeh, Franz von, 301, 310-311 Leutze, Emanuel, 411, 417-418 Leyden, Lueas van, 193, 194-195 Lii)i>i, Fra Filippo, 42, 43-45, 53 Lippi. Filippino, 4'2, 45-40 Lorrain, Claude (Gellee), 148, 315, 317, 319 Lotto, Lorenzo, 155-157, 159 Luini, Bernardino, 83, 88-90 Mabuse, Jan (Gossart) van, '249, '251 Madrazo, Raimundo de, '207, 279 Maes, Nicolaas, 207, 209-210 Manet, Edouard, 353, 305 Mantegna, Andrea, 49-51, 52, 73, 81, 132, 404 Marr, Carl, 421, 433-434 Masaccio, Tomniaso, 42-43, 45, 40, 47, 49, 81, 1'25 Massys, Quintin, 249, 250-251 Mauve, Antonin, 224, 235 Max, Gabriel, 301, 307, .'309 Medici, Influence on Painting of the, 37, 63, 65, 91-92, 99, 110, 115, 116- 117, 118, 1'25, 137, 138, 140, 181 Meer, of Delft, Jan ver, 215, 219-221 Meissonier, Jean Louis Ernest, 353, 355, 361-363 Meister Wilhelm. 283-284 Memlinc, Hans, 57. 239, 245-248 Messina, Antonello da, 49, 59-60, 128, 129. 140 Metsu, Gabriel, 215. 218-219 Michael Angelo (Buonarroti), 27, .30, 42, 43. 40. 50, 70, 80, 83. 91-101. 10'2, 108, 110, 112. 115, 118, 1'20, 1'23. 1'25, 127, 132, 1.30, 137, 139, 140, 143, 163, 173, 217, '2.50, 301. 321 MiUais, Sir John, 378. 399, 401-402 Millet, Jean Francois, 234, 345-347 Monet. Claude Jean, 353. 305 Morglicn. Kaphael, Sanzio, 85 Morettiichael de, 301, 311-312 Murillo, Bartolome Esteban, '209, 267. 268, 274-277 Nattier, Jean-Marc, 315, 324-.3'25 Netscher, Caspar, 215, 22'2-223 Nikias, 11 Orcagna (Andrea di Clone), 33, 35-30 Cstade, Adrian van, '207, 214, 217, 218 Palma (il Vecchio). Jacopo. 155. 157- 159 Parrhasius, 10 I'ausias. 12 Peale, Charles Wilson. 411, 41.'J-414 I'erugino, Pietro (Vanucci), (i9. 7.'!- 75. 76, 78, 81, 86. 102, 248 Piloty, Carl Theodor von. 301, 305- 300, 310 Pintoricchio, Bernardino, 70-78 Piombo. Seba.stiano del, 104, 105, 110, 112, 115-119, 131 Polygnotus, 10 Pompeii, Paintings at, 13, 21 Potter Pauhis, 224, 228-229 I'anssin, Nicolas. 174, 315, 317-319, 321 Poynter, Sir Edwarfl, 378. 399, 407 Pre-Raphaelite Brotherliood, (i6, 399- 403 Prudhon, Pierre Paul, 329, 332-333 Raeburn. Sir Henry, 378, 381-383 Raphael Sanzio, 46, 73, 74. 80. 81, 83, 102-114, 115, 119, 1'20, 123, 125. 131, 132, 139, 140. 143. 155, 159, 173, 174. 175, 177. 229. 295. 304. 307, 321, .322, 399 Rembrandt, van Ryn, 135. 193. 197, 198-206, 208, '209, 210, 211, '213, 4-10 INDEX 21-1, 219, 222, 227, 228, 23.'i, 234, 256, 268, 287, 288, 387, 422, 423 Keni, Guido, 173, 17J-179 Reynolds, Sir Joshua, 202, 211, 302, 318, 369, 374-376, 377, 378-379, 401, 412 Ribera (Lo Si)agiioletto), Jose ili, 267, 268-269 Romano, Guilio, 102, 112-114, 132 Romney, George, 378-381 Rosa, Salvator, 173, 181-182 Rosselli, Cosimo, 76, 78-81, 117 Rossetti, Gabriel Charles Dante, 399, 400-401, 404 Rousseau, Theodore, 227, 29.5, 34.5, 346, 347-348, 389 Rubens, Peter Paul, 137, 209, 249, 253-255, 256, 260, 261, 304, 376 Ruisdael, Jacob van, 224, 225-226 Sargent, Jolm Singer, 421, 429-433 Sarto, Andrea (Angeli) del, 115, 123- 127, 316 Savonarola, Influence on Artists, 66, 68, 91, 99, 104, 115, 116-117, 118- 119 Scheffer, Ary, 339, 341-342 Sueur, EustacheLe, 315, 321-322 Shee, Sir JIartin Archer, 378 Sicyon, 12 Signorelli, Lnca, 69-71, 72, 73, 78, 137 Sistine Chapel, Paintings in, 78-81, 93-100, 107 Sodoma (Giovanni Antonio Bazzi), il, 128, 129-131 Solario, Andrea (da Milano), 128-129 Sosus, 14 Squarcione, Francesco, 53 Steen, Jan, 215, 216-218 Stothard, Thomas, 378, 384-386 Stuart, Gilbert, 310, 375, 411, 414-416 Teniers (the Younger), David, 256, 261 Tintoretto (Jocopo Robusfi), il, 163- 16(i. 169 Titian (Tiziano Vecelli), 54, 143, 145, 147-154, 155, 159, 163, 166, 173, 213, 242, 273, 286, 322, 413 Troyon, Constant, 345, 352, 353, 355 Trumbull, John, 411, 416-417 Turner, Joseph :Mallord William, 388, 392-395, 403, 418 Uhde, Fritz von, 301, 307, 309-310 Vasari, Giorgio, 59, 63, 65, 67, 70, 78, 88, 90, 105, 110, 114, 128, 136, 137- 138, 174, 288 Vedder, Elihu, 421, 424-425 Vien, 329 Velasquez, Diego Rodriguez de Silva y, 213, 256, 267, 268, 2(i9-274, 275, 387, 423, 430 Velde (the Yoiuiger), Willem van de, 224, 232 Veronese Paolo (Caliari), 163, l(i6- 170, 242 Verrocchio, Andrea del, 61, 66-68, 86 Vinci, Leonardo da, 46, 66, 67, 83-89, 90, 92, 102, 118, 120, 125, 127, 129, 132, 143, 256, 316 Vivarini, Luigi, 49, 52, 155 Volterra, Daniele (Ricciarelli) da, 136- 137, 255 Watteau, Jean Antoine, 315, 323, 324 Watts, George Frederick, 399, 405- 407 Weenix, Jan, 224, 232-233 W^erff, Adrian van der, 135 West, Benjamin, 378, 390, 403, 411 413, 415 Weyden, Roger van der, 36, 239, 243- 245, 247, 249 Whi.stler, James Alibott McNeil, 421, 422-423 Wilkie, Sir David, 378. 386-387 Wilson. Richard, 388-389 Wolgemut, Michael, 286 W'ouverman, Philips, 224, 229-230 Zeuxis, 10