BIRD-LIFE IN ART.
MR. STACY Manna's pictures of birds are not less remarkable for their intrinsic excellence than for the severe limits which the artist has set himself in dealing with his subject. The birds, almost without exception, have been painted in captivity, and the artist has caught and transferred to canvas all the moods of the prison-house, from moping melancholy to half- humorous discontent. In his most recent paintings, especially in a brilliant series of water-colours of macaws and parrots, Mr. Marks shows signs of a new departure. There is no reason, indeed, why this clever painter should not, while remaining master of the quaint and sad aspects of bird-life, give us their portraits taken under happy and natural conditions. Even storks and cranes are not always melancholy :- " Hither and thither they fly, rejoicing in their wings,"
says Homer. But that was by the Strymon, and not at the Zoo. His birds are mainly of three classes,—water-fowl, macaws, and eagles. His adjutants and cranes are so well known that they hardly need description; but he has never done anything better than his Tantalus stork in the exhibition at the Fine Arts Gallery. The puckers and folds of the flesh- coloured skin on the forehead and legs are very true, and the great wing-feathers are strongly and boldly painted, though with due regard to lightness and texture. Compared with the best Japanese paintings of these birds at rest, Mr. Marks's hold their own.
The brilliant and lively macaws are the natural opposite of the phlegmatic water-fowl, and exhibit none of that melan-
choly which has marked so many of the other birds for its own. Their sociable disposition is exactly suited to the crowded parrot-house, and their eyes are bright and plumage good. Their portraits are mostly in water-colour, painted on grey paper, and the effect is admirable. No. 22, " Lear's Macaw," and No. 26, " The Glaucous Macaw," are lovely. Both birds are remarkable for harmonious colouring rather than striking contrasts. In the first shades of brown, in the second tints of blue, prevail, and blend exquisitely. Mr. Marks has done no better work than this. We do not know if there are any wild parrots in Japan ; but as the macaw in Bai Rei's "Book of a Hundred Birds" is on a perch, we conclude not. Certainly it is not so good as his pictures of birds which are indigenous to Japan, and the drawing is not at all equal to that of the English artist. There is another set of macaws, red, green, blue, and red and yellow, which are very pleasing. Most interesting to the naturalist and sportsman, especially if he himself be a falconer, are the pictures of the falcons and eagles. But no birds suffer more from ill-managed confinement than these beautiful creatures. The eagles, it is true, are fairly well housed at the Zoo. Not so the hawks and falcons. It is distressing to see the narrow, dark cages in which these fine creatures are confined; and Mr. Marks will have done a service to his feathered friends if his pictures draw attention to their cases. No. 12, an Iceland falcon, is labelled " A Ball of Feathers." This ought to be a better description of a tom-tit than of the Iceland falcon, the swiftest, strongest, and most beautiful of his tribe. But a glance at the picture will show to what a plight confinement in a box 5 ft. square can bring one of God's most beautiful creatures. The poor falcon, who should have spent his days in flying from crag to crag of the ice-cliffs by the sea, is sitting huddled on the ground, and says as plainly as a bird can I have been sitting for hours in semi-darkness on
a stick, and now I have come on to the ground before the bars just to get a little light before they bring my food. I can't stretch my wings like the eagles in their big cage, though once I could fly very much better than they could. And so here I am, on the ground, like a dirty vulture. Once I was a falcon. Now I am " a ball of feathers."'
Hawks should be kept on perches, not in cages. Every falconer knows this ; yet while there are fifty parrots on perches, the poor falcons at the Zoo live in boxes with no light above, like ferrets or rabbits ! Most visitors to the Zoo know the Bateleur eagles. They are the noblest-looking of all, though not large. But the scarlet bill and claws, con- trasting with their black plumage, are very striking, and the eye scowls from under a stern, projecting brow with singular fierceness. They are in fair plumage, too, and in No. 44 there is a very good picture of a pair. " The Imperial Eagle " (No. 59) is also excellent, and shows no signs of captivity. One pic- ture will appeal much to the naturalist,—No. 51, a bittern, which Mr. Marks observed in the act of curiously elongating its neck in order to see over an obstacle. By a few rapid strokes he sketched it in, and has painted it peering over high reeds. This and No. 4, a guillemot sitting on its true heels, are very realistic ; and if Mr. Marks will go on from birds in confine- ment to study them in freedom, he will soon be as dear to the sportsman and naturalist as he is to the general public.
Eminent among bird-painters is the Japanese artist, Bai Rei. As observers of bird-attitudes, the Japanese are un- rivalled, especially in drawing the different phenomena of flight. In considering this artist's work, however, we may prefer to compare him with Bewick rather than with the painters ; for Bai Rei engraved, and some of the blocks on which his work was done are at South Kensington, marvels of simple and powerful work. Both the Japanese and the New- castle engravers were true naturalists, and both endeavoured to assist their bird-portraits by some suggestive background. Bewick's little bits of landscape are very highly finished, though they are very "reserved," inasmuch as they only suggest without insisting on their appropriateness. Bai Res are much simpler ; yet in them also there is much to admire. Bewick's " Butcher-Bird " is sitting on a log, flirting its tail, with a background of meadow and fences. Bai Rei's " Butcher-Bird " is flying across a pond, with a small frog in its beak. Bewick's ‘- Magpie " has in the background a dead horse, with one or two more pies hopping cautiously round it. In the " Hundred Birds," the magpie has fallen, shot and dying, into a pool, a victim probably to some Daimio's game- keeper. In his " Wren," the Japanese is wonderfully suc- cessful. The peony is a favourite flower in Japan, and over a beautiful flower of the kind is placed a straw cap, like those put over beehives, to protect it from the cold. Snow has fallen, and covered the straw cap and settled on the twigs round. On one of these the wren is perched, peering in at the flower inside, where are warmth, and perhaps insects to be found.
Of three pictures of the goshawk by Wolf, Bai Rei, and Bewick respectively, we think Wolf's is far the best. Looking at it as it lies before us, we doubt whether any picture of a bird in action has been so well done as this. The goshawk has seized a large leveret ; one claw is fixed in its loins, and the other grasps the unhappy hare by the face and drags it back, while it beats its wings forward to aid its backward pull. The crest is raised, the beak open, and the eyes glaring ; each feather is correctly drawn, and the whole scene is full of excite- ment. The Japanese comes next. His goshawk has struck a mallard on the head. A claw has pierced the brain, and the duck is quite dead. The hawk makes an effort to carry off his quarry before they both hit the water, on which and in the air a few feathers are floating, while frightened finches
fly into the reeds. Bewick's " Goshawk" is a study of plumage;
the feathers are very delicate and good, but the legs are not long enough. Wolf, on the other hand, has shown the long thigh, which is invisible in most birds when at
rest•, because it lies parallel with the body, and is covered with the feathers. But this thigh is the most striking
feature in birds of prey when holding or tearing the victim.
To some dim notion of its existence is due the conventional eagle, with a great pair of feathered knees, which sits over old-
fashioned looking-glasses, with a " bundle " of lightning in its claws. But generally it is ignored altogether, especially by bird-staffers, who cut off the bone, and either fill the cavity with wool, or simply stick a wire up it. Another picture among the " Hundred Birds " deserves particular attention. It is a kingfisher. He has seized a small fish, and is rising from the water with it " all alive and kicking." The bird's whole energy is directed to holding the slippery creature tight. The bill grips it and sinks into the flesh. His little claws are brought forward and upward so as to touch the fish on either side of the bill, and his eyes squint fiercely at the short-focussed object. In its way, it is as good as Wolf's " Goshawk." Owls, woodcocks flying, partridges, pigeons grouped round a chimney, which has covered the snow with smuts, teal alighting on the water with upturned feet to stop their course as they hit the water,—all these are in the book of Bai Rei, to which English artists might well give some attention.
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