ART
THE exhibition of original watercolours, prints and books by Pierre Joseph Redoute (1759-1840), organised by Marlborough Fine Art in collaboration with the Luxembourg Society and opened at 17-18 Old Bond Street on Tuesday, is a well-deserved tribute to one of the greatest of little masters. Redoute was born into a family of artists at Saint Hubert, in a corner of the Ardennes then belonging to Luxembourg but later annexed to Belgium. As a young man he decorated churches and castles, and at eighteen he was painting arilails of the notabilities of Luxembourg ; then came a move to and the encouragement of van Spaendonck, the famous botanical artist, who had seen some of his flower paintings. He was engaged to do paintings on vellum for the royal collection, and henceforth remained quietly at work among his flowers, enjoying the patronage of the royal house in all its vicissitudes, serving Louis Philippe and his Queen as he had served Marie Antoinette and Josephine. The eight folios of Les Liliacees (1802-16) were followed by the three volumes of Les Roses (1817-24) on which his reputation chiefly rests. A countryman at heart and in his features, Redoute was never a courtier ; he became "more and more like a philosophical workman-gardener with heavy hands and knotty fingers well used to tying up flowers." It is difficult to write critically of Redoute's work, for it is impossible to conceive that our civilisation will ever produce an artist who could surpass the delicacy of his watercolour drawings of roses: as true to poetry as they are to science, they must be at once the glory and despair of every flower-painter. We can only note salient points—first, and perhaps most important, his wonderful observation of the shades of the leaves ; then the firm perfection of the stalks, and of the buds in all stages as they ripen ; then the mastery of the full flower, whether unsophisticated brier or dog rose or rich damask and sulphur. Touching, too, in its pride of craftsmanship, is the limpid goutte d'eau which Redoute often allowed himself on his blossoms and leaves. He conveyed a large part of his secret to his pupils, and there are two watercolours in this exhibition by Edwige Gueroult, with their water-drops and their ladybird and butterfly, that arc not unworthy of the master. The exhibition might with advantage have been more conveniently presented ; a few more show-cases would have helped to display the books and portfolios ; but, for him who seeks, there is nothing lacking here to reveal the full achievement of this prince of flower-
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