Part 4

Whenever Rubens went on a long journey he brought back many curios, such as cameos, jewels, old coins, and relics of all kinds. Soon he had so many collected he put them all in one room, which he called the “museum room.” Albert loved to study the curious things in this room, and spent hours alone here while Nicholas was romping out in the great yard. When Albert grew up he wrote several books about antiquities and curios.

=Questions to help the pupil understand the picture.= Who painted this picture? How old were these two boys? What were their names? Which one looks the more studious? the more active? How are they dressed? Tell something of Rubens’s studio and manner of working. Who helped him? why? In what did the elder son, Albert, become proficient? To what important position was he appointed? What books did he write? Tell about the museum.

=The story of the artist.= The great Flemish painter, Peter Paul Rubens, was born at Siegen, Germany, during the forced exile of his parents from their home in Antwerp, Belgium. But Rubens always claimed citizenship at Antwerp, and spent most of his life there after the death of his father.

His mother sent him to a Jesuit college, where, besides his religious training, he gained a mastery of languages. According to the customs of those times he was next sent as a page to the home of a great lady; but this was not to his liking and he soon returned home. His mother wished him to be a lawyer, as his father had been, but Rubens persuaded her to help him in his ambition to be a painter.

The next ten years he spent at home, studying under the direction of local artists, until at the age of twenty-three he was so filled with the desire to visit Italy that he set out for Venice. He spent much time copying the paintings of the Venetian masters, and it was while he was working on one of these copies that a gentleman belonging to the court of the Duke of Mantua found him, and praised his work so highly to the duke that Rubens was sent for. Then for eight years Rubens held the position of court painter for the Duke of Mantua.

In appearance he was tall, well built, and good looking, carrying himself with grace and an air of distinction. Cultured, with pleasant manners and such unusual talent, it is not strange that he made friends wherever he went.

The story is told that one day as he was painting a picture the subject of which he had chosen from Virgil, “The Struggle of Turnus with Æneas,” he recited the Latin aloud to himself. The duke, happening to pass that way, heard him, and coming into the studio spoke to him in Latin, not for an instant believing he would understand, but Rubens answered in perfect Latin. The duke was amazed, for his idea of painters did not include their having a knowledge of the classics. He then inquired about the artist’s birth and education, and so Rubens, with his great talent, was held in even greater favor at court.

Rubens made a journey to Spain for the Duke of Mantua, taking with him as presents copies of some of the celebrated Italian paintings and a number of horses to be presented to King Philip III and to the Duke of Lerma. The Duke of Mantua was famous throughout Europe for his fine horses, and it is said that those appearing so often in Rubens’s paintings were chosen from among the duke’s favorites. On this journey Rubens took the wrong road, crossing the Alps with great difficulty. The baggage, drawn by oxen over the steep mountain roads, delayed him, and the paintings were almost ruined by heavy rains, which made it necessary for him to spend many days retouching them before they could be presented. He was so successful in this task, and the journey had given them such an appearance of age, that the king thought they must be the “genuine originals of the old masters.”

The horses, however, arrived in fine condition, for, as the story goes, they had been bathed in wine several times during the journey, which greatly improved the glossiness of their coats.

After his return Rubens continued his travels through Italy, whenever he could secure a leave of absence from the duke, but was finally called back to Antwerp by the death of his mother. When he would have returned to the duke’s court he was persuaded by the Archduke Albert and his wife to remain in Antwerp, where he was offered the position of court painter at a most generous salary.

He then built a magnificent home and married Isabella Brant, whose portrait he has painted so often. This house was so arranged that he could use part of it for his school, to which students came from all parts of Europe. Each student was taught to do a certain part of a picture well, and most of them had their part in the great paintings, which were first planned and then retouched by Rubens. For this work Rubens always gave them credit, and in his list of pictures he has permitted no deception. Thus we find among his notes:

“A Prometheus bound—with an eagle who gnaws his liver. Original by my hand, eagle by Snyder.

“Leopards, painted from life, with Satyrs and Nymphs. Original by my hand, except a very beautiful landscape done by a very distinguished artist in that style.

“The Twelve Apostles and Christ, painted by my pupils after originals by my hand—they could all be retouched by my hand.”

Such a great number of pictures are attributed to Rubens and his helpers that some are to be found in every gallery in Europe.

His paintings were in demand not only in the Netherlands but in other countries. In France, Maria de Medici commissioned him to paint pictures illustrating the chief events in her life, to be placed in the gallery of the Luxembourg Palace. There were twenty-one of these pictures in all besides three portraits.

A beautiful friendship existed between the two artists, Rubens and Velasquez, although Rubens was twenty-two years older than his young friend.

Other paintings by Rubens are: “Adoration of the Magi,” “The Garland of Fruit,” “The Descent from the Cross,” “The Last Communion of St. Francis,” “Judgment of Paris,” and “Peace and War.”

=Questions about the artist.= Where was Rubens born? Where did he claim citizenship? why? Tell about his early education. Where did he study drawing and painting? Describe his personal appearance. Why was he such a favorite at court? Tell about his journey to Spain and the paintings and horses he took with him. Tell something of his life after his return from this journey. Name some of his important paintings.

SONG OF THE LARK

=Questions to arouse interest.= What has the girl been doing? Why has she stopped? What did she hear? How does the girl seem to feel? Is she singing or listening? Why do you think so? How is she dressed? Where is she going? What has she in her hand? What occupation would this suggest? What time of day do you think it is? What can you see in the distance? What is the name of this picture?

=Original Picture=: Art Institute, Chicago, Illinois. =Artist=: Jules Adolphe Breton (brẽ tôN´). =Birthplace=: Courrières, France. =Dates=: Born, 1827; died, 1906.

=The story of the picture.= It is said that the artist, Jules Breton, was walking in the fields of France early one morning when suddenly there burst forth the joyous song of a lark singing high in the air. As he looked about him, trying to discover the bird, he soon found it by following the rapt gaze of a peasant girl who had stopped to look and listen. As you know, an English lark sings while flying high in the air instead of in the treetops as other birds do. Its song, too, is longer and far more beautiful than that of our lark, and has been the subject of many poems. Perhaps the best known are “Hark, Hark, the Lark,” by Shakespeare, and “To a Skylark,” by Shelley.

The last line of this verse by Shelley is often quoted:

“Higher still and higher From the earth thou springest Like a cloud of fire; The blue deep thou wingest, And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.”

Jules Breton has tried to show us what he saw that morning, and to help us find the lark through the joyous expression on the girl’s face. Her lips are parted as she listens breathlessly to the exquisite song of praise the lark is pouring forth. The sun, a huge, fiery ball, is rising just behind the trees of the distant village, and all the earth is flooded with its golden light.

This sturdy, healthy peasant girl, sickle in hand, is going forth to her work in the fields. She walks along briskly in the narrow path, her head thrown back, breathing in the fresh morning air, when suddenly her little friend, the lark, gives her the morning greeting. As we look at her we do not feel that this is the first time she has heard his sweet song, but rather that it is something she has learned to look and listen for each morning as she starts out to her day’s work.

Another Frenchman, Millet, painted the French peasant so that our feelings of pity are aroused, but Breton shows us such strong, happy, peasant girls that we are apt rather to envy them their life of outdoor freedom and healthful labor.

Millet says of these peasants, “Breton paints girls who are too beautiful to remain in the country.” Other critics declare that Breton’s wonderful sunrises and sunsets would make any figure stand out transfigured, and as he chooses as models only the most favored in strength and beauty, of course the results are unusual.

This picture is so full of joy and song that it fills us with wonder and appreciation of all that is beautiful in nature. First, there is the bird with its wonderful power to soar so high and to so fill the air with its beautiful song. Then the sun, and all that it makes possible for us in life and growth. It seems indeed a privilege for this happy-hearted peasant girl to be permitted to go out in the fields on this bright, fresh morning to do her little share in the work of the world.

Her apron is caught up about her waist to hold the heads of wheat, for, as her sickle indicates, she is going into the wheat field. A large handkerchief is fastened about her hair to protect it from the dust and dirt of the field. She is dressed for a warm day in summer. Her large, coarse hands and feet, hardened by exposure and toil, suggest health and strength and give us a feeling of admiration rather than of pity.

The details of the field and even of her dress are made secondary and unimportant compared with her face, upon which is centered our chief interest and to which our eyes are continually drawn.

In the little village faintly seen in the distance we catch a glimpse of the homes of the peasants,—simple, rude homes, yet, if we may judge by this girl’s expression, cheerful and happy homes.

Breton has avoided all possibility of monotony in his picture by the unequal division of space. Had the figure of the girl been placed exactly in the center of the landscape, or the earth and sky spaces been made equal, the picture would have lost much in interest, as you will soon discover if you cover up parts of the composition with a piece of paper. Although there is no rule stating that the center of interest should not be in the middle of a picture, most artists seem to prefer centering their interest on some person or object a little to one side of the middle.

=Questions to help the pupil understand the picture.= How did the artist happen to paint this picture? How does an English lark differ from the larks in our country? What time of day is represented in this picture? What is the girl doing? Compare the paintings of peasants by Millet and Breton. How is this girl dressed? How does she seem to feel? What can you say of the composition of this picture as to: (1) division of land and sky space; (2) center of interest; (3) placing of the figure; (4) lack of detail—the simplicity?

=The story of the artist.= Jules Adolphe Breton was the son of cultured, well-to-do parents. When he was only four years old his mother died and he was brought up, with other children, by his father and an uncle who came to live with them at this time. In the great yard or park about his father’s house there were four statues representing the four seasons of the year—spring, summer, autumn, and winter. Jules loved to look at these statues, and when one day a painter came and repainted them a bright green, he watched every movement of the brush with great delight. He was only six years old, but that night he announced to his father that he was going to be an artist.

When he was ten years old his father sent him to a religious school. At this school there was a large black dog named Coco, a general favorite, whose picture Jules often drew. One day he drew Coco in a black gown like the priest’s, and standing on his hind feet, holding a book in his paws. He named his picture “The Abbé Coco Reads His Breviary.” The priest, his teacher, happening to see this picture, was much displeased, and demanded, “Did you do this through impiety or to laugh at your masters?” Jules was frightened, and not knowing exactly what “impiety” meant, but feeling sure that to “laugh at your masters” would be a serious offense, he answered tremblingly, “Through impiety.”

For this he was severely whipped, much to the indignation of his father, who promptly took him out of the school. Jules was then sent to another school, where he was taught drawing, and from that time on he painted pictures which won for him great popularity.

He has received medals and other honors in England, France, and America. Some of his best pictures are in the United States, among them “The Song of the Lark,” which is usually considered his masterpiece.

Other noted pictures are: “The Vintagers,” “Return of the Gleaners,” “Blessing the Grain,” “Women Weeding,” “The Turkey Keeper,” and “The Shepherd’s Star.”

=Questions about the artist.= Who painted this picture? By whom was he brought up? What helped him decide to be an artist? How old was he when he made this resolve? Tell about the drawing of Coco. What happened because of this drawing? What was the outcome of this happening? How successful was he as an artist? Where is the original painting of the “Song of the Lark”? What else has Breton painted?

BEATA BEATRIX

=Questions to arouse interest.= What is there about this picture that suggests a mystery? Where is this lady sitting? What has been brought to her? Of what is the dove a symbol? the poppy? To what hour does the sundial point? What can you see in the distance?

=Original picture=: National Gallery of British Art, London. =Artist=: Dante Gabriel Rossetti. =Birthplace=: Portland Place, London, England. =Dates=: Born, 1828; died, 1882.

=The story of the picture.= Long ago, in the age of chivalry, there lived a beautiful Florentine lady named Beatrice Portinari. A great poet, Dante, has described her to us from her childhood to her death.

In those days when all true knights served their ladies, and even small boys were required to choose objects of devotion, it was not strange that a boy of nine years should choose a little neighbor girl for this honor. She was only a year younger than he when her father, Folco Portinari, a rich nobleman of Florence, gave a festival in her honor, inviting all his neighbors and friends. Dante went with his father. Here for the first time he met Beatrice, whom he afterwards described as “the youngest of the angels.”

“‘People called her Beatrice then,’ he explains, ‘without knowing how truly the name belonged to her, for it means ‘one who blesses.’” The artist, Rossetti, must have been thinking of this when he named his picture “Beata Beatrix,” which means “happy or pleasing; one who blesses.” Beata sometimes has another meaning—“the elect of Paradise”—and Dante suggests this meaning as he tells us how the people remarked, as she passed, that “she seemed not to be the daughter of a mortal man, but of God.” Indeed, he tells us that whoever looked at her was made better, for all ill thoughts must vanish before her,—“the destroyer of all evil, and the queen of all good.”

She must have been a fairylike little creature as she moved among her father’s guests, dressed in deep crimson, with a few beautiful ornaments which brought out her delicate coloring. At any rate she became the ideal of the small boy, Dante. He became a poet through this meeting and from that time on wrote verses to her. We probably never would have known there was such a person as Beatrice, if he had not told us about her in his poems. Now she will never be forgotten, for not only the poet Dante, but the artist Rossetti, made her name immortal.

It was not until nine years after this first meeting that Dante met Beatrice face to face again. She was walking on the street between two older women, and turned to greet him pleasantly. Dressed in white this time, she seemed to him the fairest and most beautiful lady in all Florence.

This meeting had such an effect upon Dante that he declared he felt as if he had reached the “furthest limit of blessedness.” Hurrying to his room, he spent hours in thinking of Beatrice;—finally he fell asleep and dreamed of her. As soon as he awoke, he commenced a sonnet, which he addressed, not to her, but to his fellow-poets. It was not until later that he ventured to address his verses to Beatrice, usually speaking of her as “my lady.”

After each meeting or new thought of Beatrice, Dante wrote his poems, until at last he put them all into a book which he called “Vita Nuova,” meaning “new life.” He declared that from the time of his first meeting with Beatrice he had begun a new life, and this book would contain the record of it. Here he tells all his inmost thoughts and feelings, for in those days it was the fashion for poets to tell of their loves.

So we hear how Dante spent his days and nights thinking of the lovely Beatrice, until his health began to fail and his friends questioned, even taunted him, as to the cause. He did not wish them to know who it was that so affected him, and was wondering how to keep his secret when an accident showed him the way. As he sat in church looking across to where his beloved Beatrice sat unconscious of his presence, his glance was returned by a lady sitting half way between. She thought his glances were for her. She looked around several times, and other people, noticing her, soon decided she must be the lady Dante loved. Dante then decided to use her as a screen, and though he continued to write his verses to Beatrice, he did so in such a way that all believed they were directed to the screen lady.

This did very well for several years, until the screen lady moved to another city. Then Dante chose another screen lady, but she got him into trouble. False rumors spread rapidly and soon the gentle Beatrice heard them. So one day, when she passed Dante on the street, she did not give him the customary greeting. He was nearly heartbroken, for this greeting was all the recompense he had ever had or hoped to have for his love. He tells how much it meant to him, how kindly it made him feel toward even his enemies, and that it was the inspiration and hope of his life.

A friend took him to a wedding feast at which Beatrice was one of the guests. At the sight of her he grew faint and was obliged to return home. As he passed a group of women, they stopped him and inquired what kind of a love his was that made him numb and speechless in the mere presence of the loved one. He told them that until the day when Beatrice refused it, the end and aim of his love had been “her salutation”; but now his desire had changed to something that could not fail him: His happiness now lay “in the words which praise my lady.”

Is it any wonder then that one so gentle and beautiful as Beatrice, and to whom the attention of all Florence was directed by the adoration of so beloved a poet as Dante, should become a kind of goddess or queen in that city? Dante tells us that people came to the corners of the streets to see her pass. Her companions, too, were honored for her sake, and it seemed as if Beatrice herself was “the only creature in Florence unaware of her own perfections.” It gave him the most exquisite pleasure to think that he had helped bring this about.

At the death of Beatrice’s father, Dante’s grief was almost as deep as for his own father, and he remained near the house in the vain hope that he might comfort his lady in some way. Shortly after this, Dante became very ill, and as he thought of death, he realized that some day his beloved Beatrice must die. The thought drove him into a frenzy of despair; and when at last he fell asleep, it was only to dream of her approaching death. This dream proved to be a true omen, for only once more was Dante permitted to see his Beatrice; then one day as he was composing a sonnet to her, the news of her death was brought to him. He was prostrated with grief, and it was some time before he could write again.

Dante was then twenty-seven years old, and left, as he said, “to ruminate on death, and envy whomsoever dies.” To console himself he read religious philosophy, and from thinking of Beatrice as a saint upon earth, he began to think of her in heaven in company with saints and angels. And so almost before he knew it he had started to write his masterpiece, “The Divine Comedy.” In this, Beatrice, still the object of his adoration, leads him from circle to circle in Paradise, and for the first time we hear her speak.

It is strange how very little is known of Beatrice from other sources. Beyond the fact of her birth and parentage little is given. Many authorities state she was the wife of Simone de’ Bardi, but as many vigorously deny this. Dante does not mention her marriage, and indeed gives us quite the opposite impression.

Dante has represented his Beatrice as so perfect, so absolutely without fault in every way, that many have questioned whether she was a real woman or an ideal. Perhaps the doubt as to her reality started when people began to ask more about her and her interest in Dante. Living in Florence, she must have known of his devotion, yet we have no way of knowing whether she knew or not. And then we are permitted to see Beatrice only at a distance, and usually surrounded by her bodyguard of gentle ladies. We know how she affected other people, the beauty and sweetness of her presence, yet we are never brought close enough to see even the hint of an imperfection of any kind. And the poet himself does not address his poems directly to her, but “to other poetic souls who will understand.”

Yet who can read his “Vita Nuova” and fail to be convinced that Beatrice was an actual woman? Here we find her beautiful, gentle, modest, and smiling, walking with others, prayerful in church, weeping at funerals, and merry at festivals. All the little events of her life, and even the peace of her death, are sympathetically told by one who knew her to be real, yet has made her truly ideal.

The “Vita Nuova” was written in Italian, and one of the best English translations was made by Rossetti, who painted this picture as one of the many illustrations for the book. No one could have been more in sympathy with this subject than Rossetti; both because of his great admiration for Dante, and because he had suffered a similar affliction in the loss of his beloved wife.