Chapter 1

Transcriber's note:

Bracketted lower case letters refer to notes at the end of the text{a}

At the end of this text I have provided some links to Internet sites which have more information about some of the artists, some of which may have color images similar to the ones presented in this book.

GREAT PICTURES

As Seen and Described by Famous Writers

Edited and Translated by

ESTHER SINGLETON

Author of "Turrets, Towers, and Temples" and Translator of "The Music Dramas of Richard Wagner"

With Numerous Illustrations

New York Dodd, Mead and Company Copyright, 1899 By Dodd, Mead and Company

Preface

The cordial reception of "Turrets, Towers, and Temples" has encouraged me to hope that a welcome may be given to a book treating the masterpieces of painting in a similar manner.

Great writers and literary tourists have occasionally been inspired to record the impressions of their saunterings among galleries and museums. The most interesting of these, not necessarily professional, I have tried to bring together in the following pages. My object has been not to make a selection of the greatest pictures in the world, although many that have that reputation will be found here, but rather to bring together those that have produced a powerful impression on great minds. Consequently, when the reader is disturbed at the omission of some world-famous painting, I beg him to remember my plan and blame the great writers instead of me for neglecting his favourite.

My task has not been a light one. A few words of rapturous admiration are constantly to be met with in the pages of art-lovers, but a sympathetic study of a single work is rarely found. General comment of a given artist's work is also plentiful, while discriminating praise of individual canvases is scanty. The literary selection has, therefore, involved a great deal of research.

From time to time the relative popularity of painters shifts strangely, but no matter what inconstant fashion may dictate, or what may be the cult of the hour, certain paintings never lose their prestige, but annually attract as many pilgrims as Lourdes or Fusi-San.

Of modern painters I have only included Turner and Rossetti.

It is interesting to compare the example I have chosen from Rossetti with Leonardo's "Monna Lisa." Pater has admirably brought out, without dwelling too much upon it, the charm that is eternal in her face as well as the fantastic imagination of the great artist who created her for all time. He says: "The fancy of a perpetual life, sweeping together ten thousand experiences, is an old one.... Certainly Lady Lisa might stand as the embodiment of the _old_ fancy, the symbol of the _modern_ idea." In a similar sense Lilith the siren, the Lorelei, the eternal enchantress, in her modern robe, is the embodiment of a _new_ fancy, the symbol of the _ancient_ idea; and just here across four centuries the thoughts of two great artists meet.

The types of beauty and women in this book offer no little suggestion to the fancy. From Botticelli's "La Bella Simonetta," and Raphael's "La Fornarina," through all the periods of painting the model has been a great influence upon the painter's work, and upon this point nearly every essayist and critic represented in these pages dwells. In many of the essays, such as Pater's on Botticelli, and Swinburne's on Andrea del Sarto, the author strays away from the painting to talk of the painter, but in doing this he gives us so thoroughly the spirit of that painter that a fuller light is thrown upon the picture before us.

I have included a few criticisms by modern French critics, MM. Valabrègue, Lafond, Giron, Guiffrey, and Reymond, recognized authorities upon the artists whose works they describe; and I have selected Fromentin's valuable essay on "The Night Watch," feeling sure that this thoughtful criticism would interest even the enthusiastic admirers of this enigmatical work.

I have been careful to take no unnecessary liberties with the text. In the translations from Gruyer, Goethe, Fromentin, and others, which were unfortunately too long to be included entire, I have not allowed myself to condense, but only to cut. This is true, also, of the English extracts.

E.S.

NEW YORK, _September_, 1899.

Contents

THE FISHERMAN PRESENTING THE RING TO THE DOGE GRADENIGO _Bordone_ 1 THÉOPHILE GAUTIER.

THE BIRTH OF VENUS _Botticelli_ 5 WALTER PATER.

THE QUEEN OF SHEBA _Veronese_ 16 JOHN RUSKIN.

THE LAST JUDGMENT _Michael Angelo_ 18 ALEXANDRE DUMAS.

MAGDALEN IN THE DESERT _Correggio_ 27 AIMÉ GIRON.

BANQUET OF THE ARQUEBUSIERS _Van der Helst_ 33 WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY.

L'EMBARQUEMENT POUR L'ÎLE DE CYTHÈRE _Watteau_ 38 EDMOND AND JULES DE GONCOURT.

THE SISTINE MADONNA _Raphael_ 45 F.A. GRUYER.

THE DREAM OF ST. URSULA _Carpaccio_ 58 JOHN RUSKIN.

THE DESCENT FROM THE CROSS _Rubens_ 62 EUGÈNE FROMENTIN.

BACCHUS AND ARIADNE _Titian_ 71 I. CHARLES LAMB. II. EDWARD T. COOK.

THE CORONATION OF THE VIRGIN _Fra Angelico_ 77 THÉOPHILE GAUTIER.

JUDITH _Botticelli_ 80 MAURICE HEWLETT.

THE AVENUE OF MIDDELHARNAIS _Hobbema_ 88 PAUL LAFOND.

THE DANCE OF THE DAUGHTER OF HERODIAS _Andrea del Sarto_ 93 ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE.

ADORATION OF THE MAGI _Fabriano_ 98 F.A. GRUYER.

PORTRAIT OF GEORG GISZE _Holbein_ 101 ANTONY VALABRÈGUE.

PARADISE _Tintoret_ 106 JOHN RUSKIN.

AURORA _Guido Reni_ 114 I. CHARLOTTE A. EATON. II. JOHN CONSTABLE.

THE ASSUMPTION OF THE VIRGIN _Titian_ 119 THÉOPHILE GAUTIER.

THE NIGHT WATCH _Rembrandt_ 124 EUGÈNE FROMENTIN.

THE RAPE OF HELEN _Gozzoli_ 138 COSMO MONKHOUSE

MONNA LISA _Leonardo da Vinci_ 142 WALTER PATER.

THE ADORATION OF THE LAMB _Van Eyck_ 154 KUGLER.

THE DEATH OF PROCRIS _Piero di Cosimo_ 168 I. EDWARD T. COOK. II. JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS.

THE MARRIAGE IN CANA _Tintoret_ 172 JOHN RUSKIN.

MADAME DE POMPADOUR _De la Tour_ 177 CHARLES-AUGUSTIN SAINTE-BEUVE.

THE HAY WAIN _Constable_ 184 C.L. BURNS.

THE SURRENDER OF BREDA _Velasquez_ 191 THÉOPHILE GAUTIER.

THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION _Murillo_ 196 AIMÉ GIRON.

ST. FRANCIS BEFORE THE SOLDAN _Giotto_ 202 JOHN RUSKIN.

LILITH _Rossetti_ 212 ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE.

ADORATION OF THE MAGI _Dürer_ 215 MORIZ THAUSING.

MARRIAGE A-LA-MODE _Hogarth_ 218 AUSTIN DOBSON.

THE MADONNA OF THE ROCKS _Leonardo da Vinci_ 234 THÉOPHILE GAUTIER

BEATRICE CENCI _Guido Reni_ 239 PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

THE TRANSFIGURATION _Raphael_ 249 MRS. JAMESON

THE BULL _Paul Potter_ 256 EUGÈNE FROMENTIN

CORÉSUS AND CALLIRHOÉ _Fragonard_ 262 EDMOND AND JULES DE GONCOURT

THE MARKET-CART _Gainsborough_ 268 RICHARD AND SAMUEL REDGRAVE

BACCHUS AND ARIADNE _Tintoret_ 273 HIPPOLYTE ADOLPHE TAINE

BACCHUS AND ARIADNE 278 ANONYMOUS

LA CRUCHE CASSÉE _Greuze_ 280 THÉOPHILE GAUTIER

PORTRAIT OF LADY COCKBURN AND HER CHILDREN _Reynolds_ 282 FREDERIC G. STEPHENS

ST. CECILIA _Raphael_ 287 PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

THE LAST SUPPER _Leonardo da Vinci_ 289 JOHANN WOLFGANG VON GOETHE

THE CHILDREN OF CHARLES I. _Van dyck_ 300 JULES GUIFFREY

THE FIGHTING TÉMÉRAIRE TUGGED TO HER LAST BERTH TO BE BROKEN UP, 1838 _Turner_ 306 JOHN RUSKIN

SPRING _Botticelli_ 313 MARCEL REYMOND

Illustrations

BORDONE Fisherman presenting the Ring to the Doge Gradenigo _Venice_ Frontispiece

FACING PAGE

BOTTICELLI The Birth of Venus _Florence_ 6

VERONESE The Queen of Sheba _Turin_ 16

MICHAEL ANGELO The Last Judgment _Rome_ 18

CORREGGIO Magdalen _Dresden_ 28

VAN DER HELST The Banquet of the Arquebusiers _Amsterdam_ 34

WATTEAU L'Embarquement pour l'Île de Cythère _Paris_ 38

RAPHAEL The Sistine Madonna _Dresden_ 46

CARPACCIO The Dream of St. Ursula _Venice_ 58

RUBENS The Descent from the Cross _Antwerp_ 62

TITIAN Bacchus and Ariadne _London_ 72

FRA ANGELICO The Coronation of the Virgin _Paris_ 78

BOTTICELLI Judith _Florence_ 80

HOBBEMA The Avenue of Middelharnais _London_ 88

ANDREA DEL SARTO The Dance of the Daughter of Herodias _Florence_ 94

FABRIANO The Adoration of the Magi _Florence_ 98

HOLBEIN Portrait of Georg Gisze _Berlin_ 102

TINTORET Paradise _Venice_ 106

GUIDO RENI Aurora _Rome_ 114

TITIAN The Assumption of the Virgin _Venice_ 120

REMBRANDT The Night Watch _Amsterdam_ 124

GOZZOLI The Rape of Helen _London_ 138

L. DA VINCI Monna Lisa _Paris_ 142

VAN EYCK The Adoration of the Lamb _Ghent_ 154

PIERO DI COSIMO The Death of Procris _London_ 168

TINTORET The Marriage in Cana _Venice_ 172

DE LA TOUR Portrait of Madame de Pompadour _Paris_ 178

CONSTABLE The Hay Wain _London_ 184

VELASQUEZ The Surrender of Breda _Madrid_ 192

MURILLO The Immaculate Conception _Paris_ 196

GIOTTO St. Frances before the Soldan _Florence_ 202

ROSSETTI Lilith _Rockford, Del._ 212

DÜRER The Adoration of the Magi _Florence_ 216

HOGARTH The Marriage A-la-Mode _London_ 218

L. DA VINCI The Madonna of the Rocks _Paris_ 234

GUIDO RENI Portrait of Beatrice Cenci _Rome_ 240

RAPHAEL The Transfiguration _Rome_ 250

PAUL POTTER The Bull _The Hague_ 256

FRAGONARD Corésus and Callirhoé _Paris_ 262

GAINSBOROUGH The Market-Cart _London_ 268

TINTORET Bacchus and Ariadne _Venice_ 274

GREUZE La Cruche Cassée _Paris_ 280

REYNOLDS Portrait of Lady Cockburn and her Children _London_ 282

RAPHAEL St. Cecilia _Naples_ 288

L. DA VINCI The Last Supper _Milan_ 290

VAN DYCK Portrait of the Children of Charles I. _Turin_ 300

TURNER The Fighting Téméraire _London_ 306

BOTTICELLI Spring _Florence_ 314

GREAT PICTURES

DESCRIBED BY GREAT WRITERS

THE FISHERMAN PRESENTING THE RING TO THE DOGE GRADENIGO

(_BORDONE_)

THÉOPHILE GAUTIER

This picture, which represents a gondolier returning the ring of Saint Mark to the Doge, treats of a legend, an episode of which Giorgione, as we shall see in the next hall, has also painted in a somewhat singular manner. Here is the story in a few words: One night while the gondolier was sleeping in his gondola, waiting for custom along the canal of S. Giorgio Maggiore, three mysterious individuals jumped into his boat and bade him take them to the Lido; one of the three persons, as well as he could be distinguished in the darkness, appeared to have the beard of an apostle and the figure of a high dignitary of the Church; the two others, by a certain sound as of armour rubbing beneath their mantles, revealed themselves as men-at-arms. The gondolier turned his prow towards the Lido and began to row; but the lagoon, so tranquil at their departure, began to chop and swell strangely: the waves gleamed with sinster{a} lights; monstrous apparitions were outlined menacingly around the barque to the great terror of the gondolier; and hideous spirits of evil and devils half man half fish seemed to be swimming from the Lido towards Venice, making the waves emit thousands of sparks and exciting the tempest with whistling and fiendish laughter in the storm; but the appearance of the shining swords of the two knights and the extended hand of the saintly personage made them recoil and vanish in sulphurous explosions.

The battle lasted for a long time; new demons constantly succeeded the others; however, the victory remained with the personages in the boat, who had themselves taken back to the landing of the Piazzetta. The gondolier scarcely knew what to think of their strange conduct; until, as they were about to separate, the oldest of the group, suddenly causing his nimbus to shine out again, said to the gondolier: "I am Saint Mark, the patron of Venice. I learned to-night that the devils assembled in convention at the Lido in the cemetery of the Jews, had formed the resolution of exciting a frightful tempest and overthrowing my beloved city, under the pretext that many excesses are committed there which give the evil spirits power over her inhabitants; but as Venice is a good Catholic and will confess her sins in the beautiful cathedral which she has raised to me, I resolved to defend her from this peril of which she was ignorant, by the aid of these two brave companions, Saint George and Saint Theodore, and I have borrowed thy boat; now, as all trouble merits reward, and as thou hast passed a boisterous night, here is my ring; carry it to the Doge and tell him what thou hast seen. He will fill thy cap with golden sequins."

So saying, the Saint resumed his position on the top of the porch of Saint Mark's, Saint Theodore climbed to the top of his column, where his crocodile was grumbling with ill-humour, and Saint George went to squat in the depths of his columned niche in the great window of the Ducal Palace.

The gondolier, rather astonished, and he had reason enough, would have believed that he had been dreaming after drinking during that evening several glasses too many of the wine of Samos, if the large and heavy golden ring studded with precious stones which he held in his hand had not prevented his doubting the reality of the events of the night.

Therefore, he went to find the Doge, who was presiding over the Senate in his cap of office, and, respectfully kneeling before him, he related the story of the battle between the devils and the patron saints of Venice. At first this story seemed incredible; but the return of the ring, which was in very sooth that of Saint Mark, and the absence of which from the church treasury was established, proved the gondolier's veracity. This ring, locked up under triple keys in a carefully-guarded treasury, the bolts of which showed no trace of disturbance, could only have been removed by supernatural means. They filled the gondolier's cap with gold and celebrated a mass of thanksgiving for the peril they had escaped. This did not prevent the Venetians from continuing their dissolute course of life, from spending their nights in the haunts of play, at gay suppers, and in love-making; in masking for intrigues, and in prolonging the long orgy of their carnival for six months in the year. The Venetians counted upon the protection of Saint Mark to go to paradise and they took no other care of their salvation. That was Saint Mark's affair; they had built him a fine church for that, and the Saint was still under obligations to them.

The moment selected by Paris Bordone is that when the gondolier falls on his knees before the Doge. The composition of the scene is very picturesque; you see in perspective a long row of the brown or grey heads of senators of the most magisterial character. Curious spectators are on the steps, forming happily-contrasted groups: the beautiful Venetian costume is displayed here in all its splendour. Here, as in all the canvases of this school, an important place is given to architecture. The background is occupied by fine porticos in the style of Palladio, animated with people coming and going. This picture possesses the merit, sufficiently rare in the Italian school, which is almost exclusively occupied with the reproduction of religious or mythological subjects, of representing a popular legend, a scene of manners, in a word, a romantic subject such as Delacroix or Louis Boulanger might have chosen and treated according to his own special talent; and this gives it a character of its own and an individual charm.

_Voyage en Italie_ (Paris, new ed., 1884).

THE BIRTH OF VENUS

(_BOTTICELLI_)

WALTER PATER

In Leonardo's treatise on painting only one contemporary is mentioned by name--Sandro Botticelli. This pre-eminence may be due to chance only, but to some will rather appear a result of deliberate judgment; for people have begun to find out the charm of Botticelli's work, and his name, little known in the last century, is quietly becoming important. In the middle of the Fifteenth Century he had already anticipated much of that meditative subtlety which is sometimes supposed peculiar to the great imaginative workmen of its close. Leaving the simple religion which had occupied the followers of Giotto for a century, and the simple naturalism which had grown out of it, a thing of birds and flowers only, he sought inspiration in what to him were works of the modern world, the writings of Dante and Boccaccio, and in new readings of his own of classical stories; or if he painted religious subjects, painted them with an undercurrent of original sentiment which touches you as the real matter of the picture through the veil of its ostensible subject. What is the peculiar sensation, what is the peculiar quality of pleasure which his work has the property of exciting in us, and which we cannot get elsewhere? For this, especially when he has to speak of a comparatively unknown artist, is always the chief question which a critic has to answer.

In an age when the lives of artists were full of adventure, his life is almost colourless. Criticism indeed has cleared away much of the gossip which Vasari accumulated, has touched the legend of Lippo and Lucrezia, and rehabilitated the character of Andrea del Castagno; but in Botticelli's case there is no legend to dissipate. He did not even go by his true name: Sandro is a nickname, and his true name is Filipepi, Botticelli being only the name of the goldsmith who first taught him art. Only two things happened to him, two things which he shared with other artists--he was invited to Rome to paint in the Sistine Chapel, and he fell in later life under the influence of Savonarola, passing apparently almost out of men's sight in a sort of religious melancholy which lasted till his death in 1515, according to the received date. Vasari says that he plunged into the study of Dante, and even wrote a comment on the _Divine Comedy_. But it seems strange that he should have lived on inactive so long; and one almost wishes that some document might come to light which, fixing the date of his death earlier, might relieve one, in thinking of him, of his dejected old age.

He is before all things a poetical painter, blending the charm of story and sentiment, the medium of the art of poetry, with the charm of line and colour, the medium of abstract painting. So he becomes the illustrator of Dante. In a few rare examples of the edition of 1481, the blank spaces left at the beginning of every canto for the hand of the illuminator have been filled as far as the nineteenth canto of the _Inferno_, with impressions of engraved plates, seemingly by way of experiment, for in the copy in the Bodleian Library, one of the three impressions it contains has been printed upside down and much awry in the midst of the luxurious printed page. Giotto, and the followers of Giotto, with their almost childish religious aim, had not learned to put that weight of meaning into outward things, light, colour, every-day gesture, which the poetry of the _Divine Comedy_ involves, and before the Fifteenth Century Dante could hardly have found an illustrator. Botticelli's illustrations are crowded with incident, blending with a naïve carelessness of pictorial propriety three phases of the same scene into one plate. The grotesques, so often a stumbling-block to painters who forget that the words of a poet, which only feebly present an image to the mind, must be lowered in key when translated into form, make one regret that he has not rather chosen for illustration the more subdued imagery of the _Purgatorio_. Yet in the scene of those who go down quick into hell there is an invention about the fire taking hold on the up-turned soles of the feet, which proves that the design is no mere translation of Dante's words, but a true painter's vision; while the scene of the Centaurs wins one at once, for, forgetful of the actual circumstances of their appearance, Botticelli has gone off with delight on the thought of the Centaurs themselves, bright small creatures of the woodland, with arch baby faces and mignon forms, drawing tiny bows.