ART.
OLD-MASTER DRAWINGS AT Tku, ROYAL ACADEMY.
NEITILER the winter exhibition at the Grosvenor nor the Academy,. in so far as either is concerned with the drawings of the early Italian and Flemish masters, is susceptible of adequate review within the limits of a newspaper article. From the very nature of the drawings, there is little to interest the public in a description of the subjects which they depict, for they are, almost without exception, studies and sketches, more or less highly finished, for future works. And it is as hopeless to attempt detailed notice of the style as of the subjects, or at least as uninteresting. Every one who has ever read a book on Art,
could and does talk about the sweetness of Raphael, the strength of Michael Angelo, the softness of Correggio, and the fidelity of Albert Dfirer. We might, it is true, as is somewhat the fashion at the present time, devote much labour and space, to a description of the number of times the sketch in question has changed hands, the peculiar fashion of the signature in the corner, what is to be found upon the back of the paper on which it is made, and many another question equally well calculated to display our own knowledge and bewilder the public. But somehow we doubt the interest which attaches to such details, except it be to the owners of the works in ques- tion; and as it is not our aim so much to flatter their vanity, as to amuse our readers, we are shut out also from this avenue of escape. The fact is that, except for those who cannot draw and who do not understand the qualities of really great drawing, criticism, properly so called, on the tech- nique of the Old Masters, is much too serious and lengthy an affair to be entered into in a brief article like the present. Even if the critic be possessed of the necessary knowledge, he will do his readers most service by not displaying it, for it is only by .excessively minute comparison of the works of one such master with another, joined to a thorough knowledge of their aims and methods of work, that any of these studies can be ranked properly ; to which, in collections like the present, must be added the enormous difficulty caused by the mingled vanity and ignorance of collectors, in attributing the work of pupils to that of the master under whom they studied, owing to which custom the world has been for the last two or three hundred years (for the practice is of antique growth) flooded by spurious Raphaels, Correggios, and Rubenses, to an extent which would be incredible, were it not an every-day fact. As our readers will perceive, all this is an elaborate excuse for not treating them to the " Correggiosities of Correggio," on the one hand, and the bibliographic details of the catalogue-makers, on the other. We propose to stroll through these galleries, neither as prophet nor historian, but simply as beholders (we hope, appreciative ones) of the sketches and studies before us.
The Royal Academy Exhibition has been the longest estab- lished, and so let us first enter its galleries, though if we had to choose on which we should spend our "splendid shilling," the Grosvenor Gallery would carry the day. The first "old friend" we come across, is a brown pen-and-ink sketch by Raphael, for the cartoon of Elymas the Sorcerer in the moment of being struck blind, familiar probably to most of our readers, from the large work in Hampton Court, though, if we remember rightly, there are several figures in the foreground of the latter which are not inserted in the sketch. Very strong in Raphaels is the Academy this year, there being nearly sixty examples of that master. No. 122, study for the upper part of the Madonna di Foligno, in the Vatican, is an almost perfect example of this artist at his best. As we look at it, we try in vain to understand what it is in his work which separates it from that of any other known painter. Madonnas by Correggio, or Leonardo, or Murillo, or even Holbein, are different enough in all aspects of style, colour, and execution ; and yet they are all, compared with Raphael, much the same in one respect, and that is,—that their Madonnas are only beautiful women. No one else has touched that " divinity " which Raphael appeared to throw almost without effort into the faces of his Marks. His Virgins are neither women nor angels, but have a sort of transfigured humanity, which no other painter has ever quite realised. An old story this enough, but it strikes us with increasing force when we have an opportunity of noticing, as here, how wholly independent of colour was this peculiarity of Raphael's genius. Nos. 157 and 158 are also studies for pictures well known to the British public, the first for the cartoon of the ." Miraculous Draught of Fishes," the second for the picture of " The Angel and Tobias," by Perugino, in the National Gallery.
There are about fifty examples here of Leonardo da Vinci's work, nearly all from the Royal collection at Windsor, though the finest of all, No. 190, "Holy Family," is the property of the Academy. There is a quotation from Vasari, given in this cata- logue, which tells how all the artists of the time marvelled at this picture, " when the work stood finished in a room;" and it is perhaps worthy of notice that the cartoon in question is by no means finished, indeed, the feet of the Virgin and the lower part of the picture generally are only very roughly sketched in, even the hand with which St. Anne points upward being scarcely begun. The picture, however, is so beautiful, as it is, that we can hardly imagine any alteration to be an improvement; and whether it be the one alluded to by Vasari or not, is a question we may leave to experts in the history of Italian painting. There are two sketches for "Holy Families," in frame, No. 214, the lower one of which is particularly beautiful.
The next thirty drawings are by Holbein, and are almost entirely portraits of nobles and ladies at the Court of Henry VIII. They are mostly done in black chalk, and partly coloured. We must confess that we do not derive much pleasure from this series. They are probably faithful representations of the men, "in their habit as they lived ;" but they are little more interesting as pictures, than the celebrated collection of Scottish Kings at Holyrood, all of which are said to have been painted by one man from one model. They remind us of " laureate " work,—Pegasus, in the tightest of harness, drawing to order, and only desirous of getting his work over as soon as possible ; even the little bits of colour seem to be thrown in more to please the sitters, than because the picture gained by their introduction. Clever, of course, they are ; and there is a grave manliness about most of the faces, in which we fancy we can trace the painter's individuality ; and they are useful, too, to remind us that men and women in those days were pretty much the same as now, in all essential points. But when all this is said in their praise, the fact remains that we can- not look at or think of them as pictures, especially after passing through two rooms of Raphael and Leonardo da Vinci's works. The next series of drawings is one of five-and-twenty by Michael Angelo, of which we have only space to call our readers' attention to Nos. 250, 259, 268, and especially 270, "Virgin and Child," lent by the Queen. We must pass on quickly, by many another splendid example of Raphael and Angelo, into Gallery X., where we come to the Dutch and Flemish schools. The most beautiful work in this gallery would pro- bably be a matter of grave dispute, the most perfect work, in the sense of attaining the end aimed at, is undoubtedly No. 315, "Wing of Jay," by Albert Darer, a tempera drawing, repre- senting its subject life-size, in its natural colours. It seems impossible that any artist should be said to have reproduced, in full, the brightness and the exquisite gradations of a bird's feathers, but it would be truly said here. In no single point of colour, gradation, or form could we wish for an alteration of this study ; it is, without exception, the most accurately beautiful reproduction of still life which we have ever seen. Very different in all but beauty of colour is No. 318, "The Crucifixion," an illumination of the Flemish school, probably of the late fourteenth or early fifteenth century. It deserves notice, however, if only for the landscape behind the cross, which shows traces of real feeling for nature, and is most sunnily bright and beautiful. The figures, too, have that clinging to truth which is so noticeable in a good deal of the Flemish work, seeming to say to you, "Thus, or at least something in this way, we think the thing must have happened; this is our idea of it." This earnestness and simplicity of conception, which we come across in nearly all the early religious paintings, and especially those which were actually the work of monks (as, for instance, the majority of these missals), lies at the very root of the plea- sure which Art gives to the spectator, and seizes hold of the mind with a force exactly proportioned to its own intensity. We may say to ourselves, that these men were mistaken, that their view of things is ludicrous in its ignorance and simplicity, their drawing is infantile, and their perspective absurd ; and yet, when we have said all this, and said it truly, we shall yet find that the pictures have for us lost none of their power, or their attraction; and so we go away, somewhat fretfully per- haps, with a puzzle that we cannot solve ; or after many straggles with so heterodox a doctrine, we come to the conclu- sion that perhaps it was owing to the way in which the painter regarded his subject, that the influence of his work was due. And the latter is true. As George Eliot says of Thomas h Kempis, so it is with these illuminations and earlier Italian paintings ; their power is owing to the fact that they were painted by hands "that waited for the heart's prompting ; they are the chronicles of a solitary, hidden anguish, struggle, trust, and triumph,—not written on velvet cushions, to teach endurance to those who are treading with bleeding feet on the stones. And so they remain to all time, a lasting record of human needs and human consolations,—the works of those who, ages ago, felt, and suffered, and renounced ; in the cloister, perhaps, with serge gown, and tonsured head, with much chanting and long fasts, and with a fashion of speech different to ours, but under the same silent, far-off heavens, and with the same passionate
desires, the same strivings, the same failures, the same weari- ness.
This quotation gives the root of the whole matter,—the work is really representative of the man's life, nay, rightly understood, it is his life, the best part of it. No after-glory of balanced colour, subtle chiaroscuro, and perfect form can recompense us, if the artist has ceased to care for what he paints, to have a story he is snxious to tell, a fact he is anxious to display, or even a beauty in which he rejoices. Deeds and scenes are like the human body in this,—that there is in each of them some vital fact, omission of which is destructive to the whole ; and to the record of an action this vital fact must always be, belief in its reality. "This might have happened in this way, and would then have been most beautiful," will always seem weak, and comparatively untrue, beside, "This did happen in this way, beautiful or not, and so I paint it." This goes to explain the deep dissatisfaction which many of us feel, we hardly blow why, with Raphael's Madonnas. We recognise the divine peace which overshadows their faces, and their tender, human maternity ; but it seems to us that we never feel them to be true, either as representations of actual fact, or of beliefs which were actual fact to the painter. They seem only to be beautiful dreams of what a Madonna might have been ; and if this be so with Raphael, it is more and more certainly the case, with his successors and comvals. From Raphael to Correggio, from Correggio to Carlo Dolce and Sassoferrato; and from them to Murillo, we gradually pass through a transition, in which truth of fact and feeling lessens with every step, till at last we are left with a beautiful woman standing on a crescent moon, surrounded by pretty children,—a picture which, however lovely it may be—and sooth to say, the woman is pretty enough —stirs us no more than the transformation-scene of last year's pantomime.
We have no space to mention the other drawings here, though there are many others well worthy of notice ; and especially attention should be given to the sketches by Flax- man and Stothard, as representative of a peculiar style of art, which has happily quite died out in England. There are also some fine Rembrandt sketches, and many examples of Claude and the Dutch school.
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