ART.
THE ACADEMY.—II.
THE moment chosen by Mr. Abbey for his illustration of King Lear (No. 188) is that when Cordelia regretfully com- mits the King to the charge of her sisters. This, the third scene from Shakespeare which Mr. Abbey has painted, surpasses the other two in completeness. In the present instance the balance between colour, form, characterisa- tion, and composition is so even that the mind accepts the whole as one strong and satisfying harmony. The audacity -of the colour is only equalled by its success; even Mr. Abbey has not often before done anything at once so gorgeous and Si beautif al. But it must not be supposed that the other qualities are overbalanced by the colour ; the appropriateness of the types and the truth of the gestures are as finely conceived as are the combinations of scarlet and purple black, crimson and sea-green. The central group of this long-shaped picture consists of Cordelia and France; the former is conceived as a commanding figure, resolute of purpose. In this group are concentrated the cool light colours, while the poisonous beauty of Regan and Goneril is clothed either in crimson or scarlet and purple. On the other side of the picture Lear, with his back turned to us, leaves amid the crowd of his Court ; the o!d man, broken down with the violence of his ecstasy of rage, leans for support on his followers. The pale colour of the King's robe sympathises with the colour of the figure of Cordelia, and is as subtle a piece of characterisation as any in the picture.
In considering the question of poetry and prose in painting last week, a reference was made to the art of illustration. Although inferior to works of purely poetic emotion, what may be called illustrations are far above either purely realistic representations of Nature, or attempts to convey facts, historical or other, by means of the external assistance of a.rchwological reminiscences. As Mr. Berenson points out in his admirable study of the Central Italian painters, illus- tration is the putting on canvas of the visual images conjured up by literature or legend. But there is no attempt to convey information. Mr. Abbey is gifted with the power of visualising with great vividness as he reads King Lear, and he paints the images called up in his mind by the play. This is a totally different thing from trying to reconstruct an epoch by help of a museum. Of course the quality of the mind which illustrates will always decide whether the picture is good art or not. Most people who care for the poetry of Tennyson would be able to call up a better visual image than Mr. Boughton's illustration to the Lady of Shalott (No. 216). There is a want of conviction about these mincing figures going down the riverbank to Camelot which is not made up for by decorative charm.
Mr. Herkomer has been very active this year. Besides
five portraits there is an enormous expense of vermilion and canvas in his Jubilee picture (No. 198). This painter has a power of shouting beyond other people, and the picture, with its mass of red Crimean veterans, would increase the tumult of even Waterloo Station. It is said that the very unsatisfactory result of Mr. Herkomer's portrait of Mr. Herbert Spencer (No. 601) is due to the unwillingness of this latter gentleman to give sufficient sittings. If this was the case, ought the painter to be excused for undertaking, and, still more, exhibiting, such a picture?
A survey of these galleries this year reveals the fact that allegories, if rather gaudy in colour, are becoming popular. The greater part of these do not seem to be the result of any strong leaning towards mystical feeling, but rather as an excuse for irresponsible colour and form. Another feature of the exhibition is the inordinate quantity of Jubilee Mayors. Some are at full length in scarlet robes, some only rim to gold chaius. Why, one wonders, should these pictures be so uniformly dull ? Why should a blight hang over the official civic portrait? This variety of painting is tiresome in the extreme ; and in too many cases the artist seems to have been as much bored by his work as are those who look at it. Take, for instance, Mr. Arthur Hacker's portrait of The Ex-Mayor of Leicester (No. 584). Surely such painting as this gentle- man's left arm and hand should never have left the studio. The work of the whole picture indeed is disagreeable from a sort of sloppiness of painting. One full-dress portrait, however, is at least also a fine picture. Mr. Orchardson's Lord Peel (No. 330) is a notable instance of a great and dignified portrait. In this work the late Speaker still occupies the Chair of the House of Commons. There is an ease about the pose which only a man of great natural dignity could assume, keeping at the same time that air of command which we see repre- sented. Mr. Orchardson has succeeded admirably in the way in which he has preserved the essentials of the figure and the background, while minor things have been subdued till they cause no interference with the general effect. The picture is a worthy memorial of one who filled a great position so greatly and so worthily as did Lord Peel.
Probably no words will be of the least avail; still, a warning must be given to those who think they can steal Mr. Sargent's brush. Those who try to imitate should consider that even if they were as clever as the master they copy, it does not follow that his style would suit their temperament. Also, let them remember that a most innocent technique is better than a tour de force done clumsily.
Mr. Hugh Riviere's portrait of Mr. Briton Biviere (No. 399) is a charming and individual work. There is great skill shown in the way in which the striking head dominates the delicate greys and pale yellows of the coat and background. The only thing that sets one questioning is whether the body does not look a little unsubstantial. No more details, of course, are wanted. There should be the effect of thickness as well as of height and breadth.
Of Mr. Waterhouse's two pictures, the Ariadne (No. 211) is the less successful. The beautiful figure asleep seems too perfectly free from care considering that the ship of Theseus is still near the shore. Nevertheless, the picture stands out from its surroundings from the distinction of its colour and grace of its form. The other picture by this artist, Flora and the Zephyrs (No. 64), is a work of pure delight. Flora, surrounded by her maidens, is sitting in a grassy place where crimson and purple anemones grow by the side of a little river. Through the trees come the Zephyrs, and hovering in the branches whisper to Flora. But so delicate an idyll cannot be described, it must be seen. All that can be done is to point out how right the artist is in avoiding all archaic affectation of form; the natural beauty of Flora and her train convinces us of their existence, and that were we as fortunate as the painter, we, too, might have seen this grove. To paint thus is to carry out the spirit of the early Renaissance more truly than to construct a sham primitiveness. Why should such exquisite natural beauty as that of the central figure and of the little child running over the grass be sacrificed? Woebegone people we too often see in ideal pictures. If Mr. Waterhouse does not soar with the sublime poetry of Mr. Watts, he has the secret of lyric charm, and knows something of meadows which
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