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INSTITUTION OF FINE ARTS.
TRE Portland Gallery is one of the most convenient in London; its situation is good and easy of access; the rooms are spacious and well lighted, and no long flight of steps wearies the portly or pains the asthmatical. A solitary but important element is wanting to com- plete its attractions—good pictures. This, the fourteenth annual exhibition, is scarcely up to the average of former years. An exalted standard of merit is not perhaps to be expected, though works of much higher character than any now on the walls will be remembered by those who have watched the progress of the Institution since its commencement. Composed chiefly of the works of young men, one might expect to find more freshness and vigour, were it not for the fact that nearly all painters, young or old, reserve their best work for the Royal Academy, preferring, seemingly, the chance of rejection at Trafalgar-square to the questionable honour of being conspicuous among the crowd of nonentities which form the staple of the minor exhibitions. Unlike the theatrical "star," who considers his brilliancy enhanced by acting with a company of " sticks"—a good picture invariably suffers in bad company. If its neighbours are faulty, it partakes of their faultiness; while, if they are good, its lustre is increased by their merit. At the Portland Gallery one always finds new names, though they seldom appear two years run- ning, or in conjunction with good painting. This fosters the notion that the greater proportion of the inanity exhibited here is the pro- duct of amateurs. Were it not for this hope, a walk through these rooms would be productive of great depression. With comparatively few exceptions, these six hundred works displayed to public view do not even attain mediocrity—the greater proportion fall incalculably below it. A word should be said respecting the hanging, as it shows a principle remarkable for its novelty. In more than twenty cases two, and sometimes three, works by the same painter are placed in juxtaposition. The reason of this is not obvious, as certainly no beneficial result is attained.
Proceeding regularly round the walls, the first object that strikes the eye is No. 4, "Woman's Work," by Miss Florence Claxton, who is apparently one of that small tribe of young artists who are nothing if not profound. Their painting may not be good, but they flatter themselves they have a purpose. They would wither us with their sarcasm, and overwhelm us with their trite moralities. This spe- cimen, in which allegory and vulgar realism are strangely jumbled together, is noticed in the hope of deterring others from the path Miss Claxton is pursuing. Sermonizing on social topics is . not within the province of Art. A picture painted for the express pur- pose of inculcating a moral is a bore and a mistake. If an artist has a superabundant flow of misanthropy, let. him at least discover some more appropriate vehicle for its display than an oil painting. As a pen-and-ink sketch this work might pass—in its present elabo- rate form it bears little more affinity to true art than the collec- tion of sign-boards at the corner of New Oxford-street and Totten- ham-court-road. Mr. Gray's "Decline of a Summer's Day" (34), a Surrey corn-field, illumined by the fierce rays of a setting sun, is not without intention, but is too violent in colour. It looks red hot. "The Morning of the Resurrection" (49), by Mr. Calderon, shows Mary Magdalen announcing the disappearance of our Lord from the sepulchre to John and Peter. This must be reAarded as an experi- ment of a painter who is not content to work for ever in one settled groove. But while giving Mr. Calderon credit for so laudable an aim, I must confess that his picture is not equal in excellence to those sentimental subjects with which we have been accustomed to associate his name. He has neither depth nor grasp suffi- cient for a scriptural theme. There is much earnestness in the countenance of John. Peter is more conventional. But where Mr. Calderon should have succeeded best, he appears to have failed. The Magdalen is unsatisfactory, her face not beau- tiful, and the head large. The heads and bands are unpleasantly hatched and stippled; indeed, the general execution is so different to that of other works lately exhibited by this painter, as to lead to the conclusion that this must have been painted some time ago. Not- withstanding these defects, it is full of painter-like qualities, and is prominent by reason of its breadth and vigour. "Afternoon" (52), by Mr. Hahne, is suggestive of a theatrical drop-scene. Five land- scapes bear his name, but none will add to his reputation. "A Quiet Retreat" (300) is opaque, black, and heavy. "Fishing-boats off Hastings" (66) is good in drawing of sea and cloud. The bold sweep of the waves is well expressed by Mr. A. W. Williams. The name of Mr. Boutellier is new to me. Of his three pictures, that which bears the title of "Here Lies" (70) is the most important. A widow and her daughter visit a newly-made grave. With much that is immature this work shows considerable promise. The sorrowful face of the widow, who presses her hand to her side, is quite true in expression, and painted with great tenderness and refinement; but the daughter is short, ill-drawn, and unprepossessing. "A Child Threading Beads " (67) is also good in expression, and the face has been dwelt on with more care than the accessories—rather a rare quality with many painters. I think we may confidently look forward to some good things from Mr. Boutellier, though I hope that he will take a less painful theme for his next year's work. Mr. Marks has not improved in his study of " Elbow" (78). " Quiet " (396) is in better taste. A country clergyman is reading a pamphlet, two children warm their hands at a stove. The subject might have been fuller, mid the painting less heavy ; but as an attempt to realize a simple daylight effect, it deserves notice. Shadow finds no place in the creed of Mr. _Rossiter. He tries for effects of light, but while he neglects its opposite, his paintings must always look fiat and ineffective. " Navigators " (93) is a group of three boys sailing a boat in a pond, but why do none of them look at the boat? In Trifling" (327), a common-place and short-bodied young man is holding a dandelion to the lips of his ungainly sweet- heart, who blows off its feathery seeds. The landscape background in this and "The Navigators" is so charmingly rendered as to cause a regret that Mr. Roasiter should not have imbued his figures with more interest. "Rosalind" (94), by Mr. Yeames, is a careful study, which may lead to better results. "The First Drinking-Fountain" (103), by Mr. Atkinson, is a large canvas with a small incident, and proves that something besides careful drawing and painting and high finish are required to interest the beholder. The stone and granite are delusive in their reality, but their introduction into flesh and drapery must be objected to, All is cold, hard, and over elaborated. We can count the twigs of the basket, and the leaves of the flowers, and trace the pattern of a drapery with equal ease in the brightest light or the deepest shadow. This is wrong. At the distance re- quisite for the eye to take in the whole scene, the strongest sight would fail to see .such endless detail. 112, "Early to Bed," is a cleanly painted study of roosting fowls by Mr. Webbe. "A Day's Sport,', by Mr. Rolfe, shows that that gentleman's fish are more metallic than usual. Mr. Smallfield's "Tough Subject" (136) is a wayward boy trampling his lesson-books under his feet. He gives no sign of submission, though solitary confinement has been his portion for some time. The arrival of a servant with a penitential ration of bread and water seems to confirm him in his obstinacy. The boy's de- termined look and attitude are well made out, the general effect forcible and brilliant, and the manipulation leaves little to be desired. The partly-shown female figure, divided by the door and again by the frame, is a defect. In the "Pleasant Time of Day" (262), the warm glowing sky and the rising mists are faithfully painted. "St. Agnes' Eve" (162) shows a marked improvement on the somewhat feeble pictures Mr. Russell has hitherto exhibited. The face of the nun in the moonlit sky is expressive and very fairly studied, but the ar- rangement of the arms of the figure might have been better. They form a diagonal line, which is very ungraceful. " eraser and Pompey berry much alike, 'specially Pompey," may be applied with great truth to Messrs. Underhill. It is impossible to tell the works of the one from those of the other. "The Pride of the Village" is the title given by Mr. F. Underhill to a pasty-complexioned, untidy girl getting over a stile. Her eyes are larger than her mouth, and her stockings show a great tendency to be down at heel. By some singular infraction of per- speetive law, the head of the mother standing behind is larger than that of the daughter, who must be at least two feet in advance. Errors of the grossest and most puerile kind might be enumerated, but to what end? Messrs. Underhill are long past praying for. Thoroughly satisfied with their own performancet, and evincing no desire to improve, it would be useless to offer detailed criticism. "The Toilet" (190), by Mr. Miickley, is full of thorough and scho- larly painting, but the little girl is not pretty, and the upper half of her body so long, as to recal Dr. Watts's line—
Oh, how my childhood runs to waist!
"Old Salt" (253) is a capital study of the head of a weather- beaten sailor by Mr. Morton. Mr. Haughton shows ability of no common order. A twilight garden scene, with children play- ing at hide-and-seek, has muck power in the delinettion of child- like expression; but this quality is more manifest in "Poor Nomads" (389), which has no faults but what Mr. Haughton may easily grow out of, and that he has the wish and ability to do so is evident from the decided superiority this picture possesses over that of last year. A family of wandering dancers is surrounded by a London crowd, of all ages, characters, and occupations. Two mutes stand at a door hard-by, and an infantine performer begging from one of them is a happy touch. The street boys, the babies, the sodden drunkard, the swells, and riflemen, are all good, showing great dis- crimination and fidelity of expression. The smoky London sky, the shops, and even the lamp-posts, are truthfully realized. But the incidents are over-crowded. Mr. Haughton must learn the spirit of sacrifice, and remember that it is often as wise to withhold as to give. Mr. Fitzgerald contributes one of his quaint fairy subjects (310). Mr. Hixon has improved through his residence at Algiers, but he is still slight and ghostly. "An Arab Encampment" is his largest work. Mr. Moore, though deficient in force, has a beautifully painted sky in "Going to Pasture" (262). Mr. Peel is unaffectedly truthful in " Seed Time" (479). 404 "Vesuvius," by Mr. Bland, is firmly and honestly executed, and impressive at once for its subject and its sim- plicity of treatment. A head of a pretty Italian boy (578), also by him, is well drawn and modelled, and has that solidity which bespeaks continental study. Want of space precludes more than allusion to the landscapes of Mr. Leader and of Mr. Davis, the cattle pieces of Mr. H. Weekes, and two unconventional subjects by Mr. J. S. CavelL
DRY POINT.
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