FINE ARTS.
ROYAL ACADEMY EXHIBITION.
ON paying a farewell visit to the Royal Academy Exhibition, which closes on Monday week, we were forcibly struck by the very small number of pictures that tell their own story, and by the insubstantiality of the painting. These defects evince the want of vigorous and inde- pendent thinking, and of a sound method of execution. Our artists appear to have no fixed principles to go upon ; their practice of painting is conventional and empirical. There are abundant evidences of dex- terity, ingenuity, and elaboration ; but these qualities seem exerted rather to evade difficulties than to accomplish a definite end. The study of art is confined to following precedents or trying experiments : one course is pursued till another, that seems better, is struck out, which is then run after, till some new plan diverts the attention in a fresh direction. Even in exercising the faculty of invention our artists think through the medium of another's ideas: instead of looking into the world around them, they seek for subjects in books. The mass of modern pictures are as much designs to illustrate popular authors as though they had been commissions from booksellers ; and their interest, for the most part, is limited by the reader's knowlege of the work illustrated or the scene depicted. It is very well for Painting to be the handmaid of her sister Poesy, but she should not be a slave : she has a much higher vocation When a scene or character in a book strikes the painter's fancy, it be- comes an agreeable task to embody the sentiment or description : too often, however, the details are given and the spirit is wanting. De- scriptions are rarely realized in pictures: writers seize those points that they can best turn to account, which may not be the same that a painter would select. In illustrating an author, the painter's fancy is con- strained; he has to soar in fetters : moreover he must go counter to his habitual course of study in embodying the figment of another's brain, instead of expressing his own idea formed by the suggestion of a living entity. The result is rarely satisfactory to the reader, who has a preconceived image of the scene in his mind, which the pictured representation disturbs but hardly supersedes ; while to persons not acquainted with the subject illustrated, the design wants distinctness and•completeness of meaning. The tendency of the practice of illus- trating books is to perpetuate mannerism, as in the instances of STO- THARD and WEST.ux ; and the value and interest of the artist's works are great17 lessened by the necessity of comparing the painter's version of the original idea with your own. A fine picture ought to impress the spectator as an entire and original conception, developed without any other agency than the painter's thought and. : the criterion of success is its influence on the mind, and its power of creating anew those images and associations that the artist has embodied. There are two pictures in the present Exhibition that stand this test, and strikingly exemplify the power of a lively mental impulse in giving force and vitality to the pictorial creation, and an intrinsic, independent, and permanent interest to the artist's work : they set you thinking. The one is Poor-law Guardians—Board-day—Application for Bread, (242,) by C. W. COPE ; the other, The Boy and Many Friends, (65,) by T. WEBSTER. The purpose of each is distinctly expressed without any title or description ; it is self-evident and explains itself : both appeal strongly to the moral sense; awakening sympathy and reflection, as in beholding an actual incident. COPE'S picture is a graphic exposition of the nature and operation of the new Poor- law, and depicts the character and condition of the inhabitants of rural districts. All who are familiar with such scenes will verify the correct- ness of the representation ; foreigners and future generations of Eng- lishmen will read it as a living chapter of the history of these times. It bears the broad stamp of truth and nationality ; forcible, homely, and affecting, it impresses the understanding and feelings like a description of CRABBE OT of CHAUCER. Would the painter have produced such a powerful and vivid picture if he had illustrated a scene from either of those poets, minute and vigorous as their descriptions are ? We venture to think not.
The incident is one of frequent occurrence : a poor widow, with her children, solicits parish relief—but there must be something more than common in the circumstances of her case ; for even the pompous beadle, who keeps the door against the crowd of famishing applicants, regards her with a look of commiseration ; the stolid farmer, deaf all over, softens as a gray-haired man relates her story through his ear- tube ; the hale sportsman, standing with his back to the fire, looks con- cerned ; the grave chairman himself leans forward with eager atten- tion; and a coarse-featured old fellow, of the true John Bull breed, pauses in the midst of a pinch of snuff; his clenched fist enforcing the vehemence of his indignation. The widow is young and comely ; and her delicate features and the graceful bearing of her tall slender form bespeak her to belong to a better class than the herd of paupers with- out : the neatness of her worn and scanty attire, and the tidy appear- ance of her children, denote the triumph of decent pride over abject poverty. The pale-faced curate is arguing with her, and evidently urging her to accept the asylum of the workhouse ; but, with a tear on her cheek, she points her toil-worn hands towards the mother's treasures : the key in the hand of the eldest, a girl of premature thought- fulness, implies that the poor family have some little wreck of property left, while the hearty appearance of the children shows their distress to be recent and sadden. The frank sturdy boy looks up unabashed, like one able and willing to work—his figure, by the by, is out of all pro- portion—and the youngest, a chubby girl with large dark eyes and a garland of field-flowers on her head, looks timidly round with her finger between her lips, a sweet image of bashful infancy. The acute sensit-ilities of an aristocratic old gentleman with powdered hair and furred coat have been touched ; and as he gazes with glistening eyes and a pained look on the genteel pauper, he is dipping into his purse to relieve their wants ; the battered rake by the fire paring his nails affects indifference; and a bull-necked Malthusian has got two victims in a corner, on whom he is inflicting a lecture, despite the hopeless per- plexity of the one whom he holds by the button-hole, and the yawn of the other wearied listener : a burly blubber-lipped eater of parish-dinners is grunting approval of the workhouse gruel ; on whose nutritious quality the master is descanting eloquently ; and the clerk is mechani- cally noting down the particulars of the case under consideration : the blazing fire, and the array of wrappers and umbrellas denoting unge- nial weather, and the care that the guardians of the poor bestow on themselves, make the poverty of the thinly-clad woman and children more apparent by contrast. For general significance, distinctness of meaning, and expression of individual character and emotion, this picture is a masterpiece : the sentiment is aided by the lesser details and accessories, though they preserve their proper place as subordinate to the main points of the story. The somewhat heavy minuteness of the handling is in accord- ance with the nature of the subject ; and there is a harmony of feeling in the conception and style of painting that gives unity to the whole. WEBSTER'S picture is directly opposite in its theme, treatment, and execution ; and only comparable for the perception of character, feli- city of expression, and the lively representation of the incident. The scene is a school-room, and the actors are boys; but here, as in reality, we have a type of the world. The "Boy of Many Friends" has re- ceived a present from home ; the news has quickly spread through the playground, and his schoolfellows are swarming in to share the spoil : the lucky boy, with his lap full of cake and oranges, looks bewildered at the crowd of " friends " who lay claim to his notice; one is officiously unpacking the hamper, another is scrutinizing the colour of the wine ; a third bids for a slice of cake with a double handful of marbles, and a fourth humbly begs for an orange : the bully of the school has taken the fortunate youth under his especial protection, and is elbowing off a crowd of petitioners ; but there is a sly rogue quietly making his way over the form, who will evidently have the best of it. The breathless ardour of some, and the longing gaze of others, the envy of the angry prisoner in the corner, and the dejection of the poor usher, his gaoler, at the thoughts of home, that his crape-bound hat proclaims to be sad, complete this amusing episode of school life. The discrimination of boyish character and motives is perfect ; and the, clear, fresh, and facile style of the painter, is admirably suited to depict the robust vivacity and ingenuousness of youth. In each of these two works every thing is subservient to the de- velopment of the painter's purpose : his idea having been previously formed in his own mind, he instinctively rejects any thing foreign or superfluous. Look now at Mscurm's Sleeping Beauty, the con- ception of which was suggested by the Covent Garden spectacle : the excess of images employed to convey an idea of slumber actually destroys all effect of repose ; the very sleepers them- selves are only shamming-, like the actors. All is rigidity and con- sciousness instead of laxity and oblivion ; and so far from our having any idea of a century having elapsed since the Beauty fell asleep, the fatiguing glitter and newness of every object would imply that the nap is just began, and is only feigned after all. What avail fecundity of invention and dextrous execution, if they are exercised so as to defeat the artist's intention? or say rather, to misrepresent the subject of the picture: for the intention of Mr. MACLISE appears to have been to ex- hibit his prolific powers of design and his facility of execution : indeed it would seem as if he had resolved on showing that he could outdo the theatrical scenist in the profusion and gorgeousness of his fancy. Ac- cumulation is MACLISE'S favourite practice ; but surely selection were better : we cannot see the whole of his pictures for the parts. His Hunt the Slipper at Neighbour Flamborough's, (3130 is a clever illustra- tion of the Vicar of Wakefield—though the great charm of the story, sim- plicity, is wanting ; but to any one who had not read the book the picture would lose its point. So with Sir Boger de Coverley's Courtship, (2870 and the Vicar of Wakefield Finding his Lost Daughter at the Inn, (287,) by REDGRATE the embarrassment of the bashful lover at the raillery of the wily widow, in the one, and the unexpected meeting of the father with his erring child, in the other, are admirably depicted; but a clue is wanted to the subject, which only the context of the story can supply. Now a fine picture should be its own interpreter, and possess complete- ness as well as intelligibility. The Trial of Effie Deans, (539,) by LADDER, is a powerful and striking representation of a Scottish court of justice, with its paraphernalia : but the pathetic incident is the least interesting portion of it ; the ponderous gravity of the judges, and the professional indifference of the counsel, with the strong effect of light on their costumes, are the most prominent features: indeed, so far as the story is concerned, it is a failure ; the picture does not affect the feelings commensurately with the pathos of the novelist. But had the artist taken his subject from an occurrence which he himself witnessed, the probability is that the court and the bar would have been subordinate instead of principal, the culprit and those connected with her engaging the attention most strongly : whereas, in this instance, the judges in their ermined robes, the counsel in their black gowns, the halberdiers and soldiers, first attracted the painter's eye ; and the impression made by these living realities gave them a preponderating influence that the exercise of his fancy could not come up to. The external senses are the most direct and powerful channel to the imagination of an artist : his whole course of study leads him to deal with visible objects; and he is better able to infuse an ideal feeling into the homeliest reality than to invest an abstraction with vital attributes. RAPHAEL painted Madonnas from his sister and his mistress ; and when Grin° was asked where he got the idea of some lovely nymph, he answered, "From my old man." Ideas of beauty, grandeur, tenderness, and sublimity, exist in the painter's mind, and are called forth by the feelings or fancy ; but they must have some actual form to receive the impress of the creative power. Lumenno himself could not paint a Judas for his Last Supper till he had found a man with a characteristic expression. The difficulty of depicting the Saviour, arises partly from the inability of the painter to conceive, the cast of countenance. Painting, as an imitative art, must have materials to deal with, and ideas distinct almost to entity ; in addition to these, that indefinable quality called feeling or intention, will unconsciously assist the artist in embodying his conception. Its influence is manifest in the finest work in the Exhibition, Christ Foretelling the Doom of Jerusalem, (75,) by EASTLAKE ; the beauty of all this artist's pictures, indeed, depends mainly upon the tender and refined sentiment pervading them. Not to seek for further illustrations, we will conclude this part of the argument by pointing to the numberless sources in every-day life, whence our artists might derive subjects of interest, illustrating the world in which we live in a way that would bring them home to "the business and bosoms" of men : not mere portraiture,—though we would sooner have LESLIE'S Fairlop Fair, and Interior of the Library, Hol- land House, unworthy as they are of his reputation, than his Columbus,— but in dramatic scenes conceived by the painter's imagination, and stimulated by actual occurrences or lively feelings, whether the humour be grave or gay, satirical sr pathetic. Hoceirrn's "Marriage k-la-Mode," in the National Gallery, is a pictorial drama of his own invention, gleaned from observation and reflection, like all his other works, and representing the state of society in his day. WiLEIE was mostly the inventor of his own subjects ; and succeeded best where he drew upon his experience and perception. These illustrious examples of the British school ought surely to have great weight with the followers of precedents. Even the portrait-pictures,—such as HAYDON'S Anti-Slavery Convention, HATTER'S House of Commons, LESLIE'S Coronation, and WuJim's First Council of Queen Victoria,—formal and uninventive though they be, are valuable as pictorial records of facts. But why do not our painters illustrate the peculiarities of national character and habits by scenes of life and action ? Macusu would succeed better in depicting the humours and violence of an Irish election-row, the bustle and excitement of a race-ground, or the coquetry and affectation of an evening-party or an opera-box, than in Macbeth Banquets, Robin Hoods, and Peacock Feasts of the olden time ; and LESLIE might make delightful scenes from the comedy of social life and manners, that would interest the public more than his Uncle Toby, Bourgeois Gen- tilhomme, or Sancho, admirable as they are. What scope do our courts of law, and places of public resort for business or recreation, afford for depicting character and illustrating the nature and working of our institutions ? But artists are too apt to rely on the adventitious points of costume or notoriety, instead of regarding the moral interest of the subject. The variety and intensity of expression that a scene exhibits is its best recommendation to the painter and to the public, though publishers prefer to speculate in fine clothes and titled names.
The consideration of the present mode of painting we must reserve till next week.
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