Part 20

In the early years of Rosso’s and Primaticcio’s activity at Fontainebleau practically all the work was done by these two painters and their Italian assistants, whose band was joined by Niccolò dell’ Abbate. It was only after the death of François I. that the teaching of the Italian eclectics at Fontainebleau produced a generation of French artists capable of doing justice to the decorative tasks for which an ever-increasing demand had meanwhile arisen. That the Louvre is singularly poor in works by these painters may partly be accounted for by the comparative scarcity of easel pictures painted by artists who were chiefly employed for interior decoration. There is no reason for crediting any Frenchmen with the three anonymous school of Fontainebleau pictures in Gallery XI.: _Diana_ (No. 1013), _The Chastity of Scipio_ (No. 1014), and _The Toilet of Venus_ (No. 1014A). _The Chastity of Scipio_ in particular would appear to be the work of Niccolò dell’ Abbate.

JEAN COUSIN

The most famous of all the French painters of the school is Jean Cousin, who from the _Last Judgment_ (No. 155) at the Louvre—the only known painting from his brush that has been preserved—has been called “The French Michelangelo.” Nothing is known of his life, save that he was born at Soucy, near Sens, that he worked in Paris in the third quarter of the sixteenth century, and that he was still alive in 1583. Comparison of his picture with Michelangelo’s great work in the Sistine Chapel only helps to accentuate the absurd over-estimation to which he owes his sobriquet. He was merely a follower of Primaticcio, an excellent draughtsman with great knowledge of anatomy, but lacking in taste, imagination, and real power.

Ambroise Dubois (1543-1614) was born at Antwerp, but is generally counted among the French painters of the school of Fontainebleau. He was entrusted by Henri IV. with several important series of paintings for the decoration of the apartments at Fontainebleau, notably with eight scenes illustrating Tasso’s “_Gerusalemme Liberata_” for one of the Queen’s rooms, and fifteen scenes from “_Theogenes and Chariclea_” by Heliodorus for the “King’s Great Closet.” One from each series has found its way into the Louvre collection: _The Baptism of Clorinda_ (No. 272), and _Chariclea, undergoing the Ordeal of Fire, is recognised by her Parents, King Hydaspes and Queen Persina_ (No. 271).

The only other painter of this group who is represented at the Louvre is Martin Fréminet (1567-1619), who was only indirectly connected with the school of Fontainebleau, as he had received his art education in Florence. His best known work is the ceiling of the Trinity Chapel at Fontainebleau. His picture at the Louvre represents _Mercury ordering Æneas to leave Dido_ (No. 304).

The decline of the school of Fontainebleau was so rapid and complete that, when Marie de Médicis decided to have the great gallery of the Luxembourg Palace decorated, in 1620, there was not a single painter left in France capable to undertake this important work, which was eventually entrusted to Rubens. But the whole direction to be taken by French seventeenth-century art had been determined by François I., and the influence of the Late Italians remained paramount until the dawn of the new era which was to be initiated by Watteau.

THE SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY FRENCH SCHOOL

Throughout the seventeenth century the impulse for the artistic activity of France emanated from Rome. But before discussing the dominating personalities of the age we must refer to a few painters who occupy a more or less isolated position in the art of their country.

The naturalism of Caravaggio was introduced into France by two of his followers, Jean de Boulongne, called Le Valentin (1591-1634), and Simon Vouet (1590-1649), who was also slightly influenced by the Venetians. Valentin spent the best part of his life in Rome, where he died in 1634. The Louvre owns, among eight pictures from his brush (not all of which are exhibited), his masterpiece, _The Innocence of Susannah recognised_ (No. 56), which has the vigorous handling and bold chiaroscuro of the Neapolitan school.

Simon Vouet, who came to England at the age of fifteen, and subsequently travelled in Turkey and Italy, where he remained until his appointment as Painter to the King took him back to Paris in 1627, tried to combine the naturalism of Caravaggio with the colouring of the Venetians, an endeavour in which he was only partially successful, as he was not equipped by nature with a sensuous appreciation of beautiful colour. The Louvre owns a dozen Scriptural subjects and allegorical figures by Vouet; but even the best of them, _The Presentation of Jesus in the Temple_ (No. 971), is but a dull and heavy performance; whilst his _Portrait of Louis XIII._ (No. 976) is wholly devoid of artistic merit. Perhaps he owes his fame chiefly to the fact that he was the master of the absurdly overrated Le Sueur and of that art despot of the Louis XIV. era, Charles Le Brun.

THE BROTHERS LE NAIN

Of far greater artistic significance are the three brothers, Antoine, Louis, and Matthieu Le Nain, who were born at Laon, and flourished in Paris during the first half of the seventeenth century. Antoine and Louis died in 1648, and Matthieu in 1677. Very little is known of their history, but the splendid array of their works in Gallery XIII. proves them to have had close affinities with the contemporary Dutch and Flemish schools, even if their manner of composition suggests close acquaintance with Spanish art. Their subjects, too, like those of many of the Northern masters of their time, are taken from the daily life of the people, which is rendered with naïve honesty, and at times with a real appreciation of beautiful pigment. So far it has been impossible to distinguish between the works of the three brothers, as even the signatures “LE NAIN, fecit 1647,” on the _Portraits in an Interior_ (No. 543), and “LE NAIN, fecit anno 1642,” on the _Peasants at their Meal_ (No. 548, La Caze Gallery), afford no clue to the solution of the problem. The striking differences in brushwork and colouring, which are to be noticed in the eleven Le Nain pictures at the Louvre, would certainly suggest that the three brothers did not, or did only rarely, collaborate on the same pictures. The painter of _The Return from Haymaking_ (No. 542), with its prophetic suggestion of the _plein-air_ effects of late nineteenth-century art, cannot have had much in common with the painter of the dull and dingy _Denial of St. Peter_ (No. 547).

NICOLAS POUSSIN

The founder of the Classicist school of French painting, which has had official approval and support from his time to the present day, was Nicolas Poussin (1594-1665). Born at Les Andelys in Normandy, he went to Paris at the age of eighteen, and became so fascinated by the examples of antique sculpture that, in spite of his extreme poverty, he determined to continue his studies in Rome. It is unnecessary here to relate the struggles that preceded his arrival at Rome in 1624. He frequented the school of Domenichino; but what was more decisive for the formation of his style was his unceasing study of antique sculpture, in which he was guided and encouraged by his friend, the sculptor Duquesnoy. After some years of continued poverty, he found at last liberal patronage, and rose to such fame that on his return to Paris in 1640 he was appointed Painter-in-Ordinary to the King. However, the duties and restrictions attached to this position proved so irksome to Poussin, that after two years he returned to Rome, where he spent the rest of his life.

At the Louvre is to be found an imposing array of forty canvases by Poussin, whose art is as typical an expression of French genius as the poetry of Corneille. It is essentially intellectual, based on theoretical rules of design and composition, not in the least sensuous or emotional, but always coldly classical. The vast majority of his paintings at the Louvre are in such a deplorable state of deterioration and neglect that it is almost impossible to form an adequate idea of their original colour, but even the most ardent admirers of the master do not maintain that he was a great colourist. His pictures are entirely dependent on beauty of form and rhythmic design. They might almost be described as painted reliefs. This applies at least to his treatment of the human figure. His conception of landscape, though still severely classical, is more pictorial and testifies to a genuine love of Nature—Nature idealised by a lofty imagination. To appreciate his greatness as a landscape painter, one has only to examine the glorious setting to his _Orpheus and Eurydice_ (No. 740). The figures here are really of quite subordinate importance—mere incidents in a landscape painted with consummate mastery, perfect in linear and aerial perspective.

_The Shepherds in Arcadia_ (No. 734, Plate XXXVII.) may be quoted to illustrate the calculated rhythm of his design and his indebtedness to classic art from which he derived his nobility of form. Real dramatic action was beyond Poussin’s range. His famous _Rape of the Sabine Women_ (No. 724) is a striking instance of his failure to grasp the significant difference between dramatic movement and mere heroic posturing. Far more inspired, and therefore more natural and dramatically effective, is the superb circular painting for a ceiling commissioned by Cardinal Richelieu and representing _Time rescuing Truth from the Attacks of Envy and Discord_ (No. 735). The allegory is said to have been intended as an allusion to the circumstances which induced Poussin to leave Paris for good. The design has more real vitality than is generally to be found in Poussin’s work; the action of the figures is more natural; and the colour music is not drowned by the prevalence of dingy browns. The decorative effect heralds in a strange way the art of the next century, and particularly that of Boucher.

To see Poussin in the right perspective as regards the world’s great masters, one need only compare his two _Bacchanals_ (Nos. 729 and 730) with Titian’s rendering of a similar theme. The comparison is disastrous for the eclectic Frenchman. A _Portrait of the Painter_ (No. 743) from Poussin’s own brush is to be found in Room XIV., where no fewer than thirty-seven of his pictures are on view.

CLAUDE LORRAIN

Strangely enough, the otherwise very complete collection of French pictures at the Louvre does not contain a single example of Poussin’s brother-in-law, Gaspard Dughet, better known as Gaspard Poussin (1613-1675), who devoted himself more exclusively to landscape than did his more illustrious relative. Nicolas Poussin’s influence also became decisive for the formation of the style of Claude Gellée, called Le Lorrain (1600-1682), who is represented at the Louvre by seventeen pictures (Nos. 310-326), most of which also have suffered considerably from discoloration and neglect. Claude, who was the child of poor parents, started life as a cook. In this capacity he went to Rome, where his talent for art was discovered by the landscape painter Agostino Tassi, to whom he served as cook and apprentice. Having learned all he could from his master, he returned to France in 1625, but, like Poussin, preferred to go back to Rome after two years spent in his native country. In the Papal city he lived the rest of his days, and rose to fame and affluence.

He was essentially a landscape painter. The historical and legendary incidents introduced in such pictures as _The Disembarkation of Cleopatra at Tarsis_ (No. 314), or _Ulysses restoring Chryseis to her Father_ (No. 316), were to him a mere excuse for painting classic landscapes and imaginary buildings of noble proportion bathed in a golden atmosphere, which has hardly been rivalled by any contemporary or later painter. It is only on rare occasions, as in the _View of the Campo Vaccino at Rome_ (No. 311), that he applied his gifts to the portrayal of nature. As a rule, his views are carefully arranged combinations of architectural and landscape elements brought together arbitrarily, and generally disposed in the manner of the wings and backcloth of a stage scene, but connected by the unity of light and atmosphere. Considering this method, it is amazing that his memory enabled him to invent such imaginary scenes with so great a degree of truth. _The View of a Sea Port_ (No. 317, Plate XXXVIII.), in the subdued light of a misty day, is a magnificent instance of his masterly management of aerial perspective. It is signed and dated “CLAUDE IN ROMA, 1646.” It is generally known how much Turner in his first manner owed to the example of Claude. That even Watteau was indebted to him may be gathered from such pictures as _The Village Fête_ (No. 312), which, signed and dated, “CLAUDIO, inv. Romæ, 1639,” contains in germ the elements that constituted the greatness of the eighteenth-century master.

LE SUEUR

Whilst Poussin and Claude were working in Rome, two pupils of Vouet reaped the highest honours in France. Eustache Le Sueur (1617-1655), whom his compatriots in their incomprehensible over-estimation of his mediocre gifts have called the “French Raphael,” certainly strove to emulate the divine Urbinate; but how badly he succeeded in this endeavour is to be gathered from the fifty-two paintings, by the placing of which his memory is retained at the Louvre. What dignity there is in the simple flow of line in his designs, is completely ruined by the offensive crudeness of his colour. Even allowing for the inevitable fluctuations of taste in matters of art, it is difficult now to understand how enthusiasm could ever have been aroused by the works that were considered his masterpieces, _St. Paul preaching at Ephesus_ (No. 560), which at the beginning of last century was valued at £10,000 (!), and the twenty-two _Scenes from the Life of St. Bruno_ (Nos. 564-585), painted between 1645 and 1648 for the small cloister of the Carthusians in Paris. This series, which is a severe tax on the patience of the conscientious visitor, fills the whole of Gallery XII., whilst other paintings connected with it intrude into the adjoining room, which is consecrated to the brothers Le Nain.

Before passing on to Vouet’s most famous pupil, Charles Le Brun, whose despotic power imposed upon French painting during the “_grand siècle_” its pompous rhetorical character, mention should be made of Sébastien Bourdon (1616-1671), who, but for his prolonged sojourn in Rome, which fed his ambition to excel in the “grand style,” would have been one of the most remarkable artists of his century. This conclusion is, at least, justified by his precious little painting of a group of _Beggars_ (No. 76), which is perhaps unrivalled in French seventeenth-century art for quality of paint and appreciation of tone values; and by his excellent _Portrait of the Philosopher René Descartes_ (No. 78), who was also painted by Frans Hals (No. 2383). In his treatment of scriptural and historical subjects he does not rise above the dull level of his contemporaries.

CHARLES LE BRUN

Charles Le Brun (1619-1690) studied first under Vouet, but, attracted by Poussin’s stronger personality, followed that master to Rome in 1642, and continued his studies under his guidance. When Le Brun returned to Paris four years later, his reputation was already firmly established. Patronised by Louis XIV.’s powerful minister, Colbert, he was placed at the head of the newly founded Academy of Painting, and of the Gobelins Manufactory, became First Painter to the King and “Prince” of the French Academy in Rome; and was, in fact, given absolute power in all matters concerning the fostering of the arts and art industries. This despotic power explains how it was possible that Le Brun, who notwithstanding his brilliant executive skill and extraordinary facility never rose above the level of mediocrity, could impose his uninspired personality upon every phase of French artistic activity of his time.

His enormous canvases at the Louvre, which probably occupy more space than has been allotted to any other painter, vainly endeavour to conceal the lack of real emotion and of a central motif by theatrical gestures and overcrowding. His masterpiece at the Louvre is _The Tent of Darius_ (No. 511), which represents the family of Darius imploring Alexander the Great for mercy. But even here one feels the absence of dramatic inspiration and concentration. Less successful are the other scenes from the history of Alexander: _The Passage of the Granicus_ (No. 509), _The Battle of Arbela_ (No. 510), _Alexander and Porus_ (No. 512), _Alexander entering Babylon_ (No. 513). The whole series was painted between 1661 and 1668 for execution in tapestry and was exhibited at the Salon in 1673, the year in which for the first time an official catalogue was compiled. Besides many scriptural and mythological subjects, and a few portraits from Le Bran’s brush, there are at the Louvre his decorative paintings on the ceiling of the Galerie d’Apollon in which the magnificent centre panel was added two centuries later by Delacroix.

PIERRE MIGNARD

Le Bran’s successor in the direction of the Academy and the Gobelin works, Pierre Mignard (1612-1695), called “Le Romain” owing to his long domicile in Rome after the completion of his studies under Vouet, did not have his precursor’s large decorative faculty and sweeping ease of execution. Yet the excessively affected grace and the careful finish of his pictures, of which _The Virgin of the Grapes_ (No. 628) is a thoroughly characteristic instance, helped to raise him to an exalted position in the opinion of his contemporaries. To this day the affected style of prettiness of which he was the high priest is known as “_mignardise_.” His power was altogether insufficient for the ambitious decorative tasks he set himself in emulation of Le Brun. If he has any claim to the esteem of posterity, it is for having left the world a portrait gallery of the notable men and women of his time—portraits which are by no means free from flattery and mannered grace, but constitute, nevertheless, a valuable historical record. Of these the Louvre owns the _Portrait of the Artist at Work in his Studio_ (No. 640); the _Portrait of Françoise d’Aubigne, Marquise de Maintenon_ (No. 639); and the life-size group of _Louis of France, Son of Louis XIV., his Wife, and their three Children_ (No. 638).

Colbert and Le Brun had succeeded but too well in carrying out the powerful minister’s ambition to direct French art towards industrial and decorative aims, to train an army of capable producers, and to place the whole organisation on what may be called a business basis. The system was, however, not favourable for the growth of independent genius. With few exceptions, the whole generation of painters that grew up under Le Brun’s régime are of no significance to the history of art. There were among them many capable craftsmen, but they only repeated in a feebler way what Le Brun had done on a more imposing and dazzling scale. Whole dynasties of painters arose, like the Boulognes and the Coypels, who, under official patronage, filled acres of canvas with florid, theatrical renderings of scriptural subjects, and with the bombastic mock-heroics of classic history and mythology seen through baroque spectacles.

LE BRUN’S FOLLOWERS

It would be giving undue importance to these painters of the Louis XIV. period if we were to go beyond a mere enumeration of their leaders and their chief works at the Louvre. None of them possessed any marked individuality; and most of them were linked together, not only by similar aims and ambitions, but also by family ties. Four members of the Coypel family rose to great eminence among their fellow-artists, and to important official positions. Noël Coypel (1628-1707), the painter of the four historical compositions, _Solon defending his Laws before the Athenians_ (No. 157), _Ptolomy Philadelphus giving the Jews their Freedom_ (No. 158), _Trajan giving a Public Audience_ (No. 159), and the _Foresight of Septimus Severus_ (No. 160), all of which were originally executed for the Council Chamber at Versailles; his sons Antoine Coypel (1661-1722), whose best known pictures at the Louvre are the _Susannah and the Elders_ (No. 169) and the _Democritos_ (No. 174), which recalls Jordaens in its exuberant life, and Noël Nicolas Coypel (1692-1734), whose goddesses and nymphs already reflect the taste which dominated the eighteenth century; as well as Antoine’s son, Charles Antoine Coypel (1694-1752), whose uninspired art may best be studied in the _Perseus delivering Andromeda_ (No. 180).

_The Triumph of Bacchus_ (No. 447) and _The Annunciation_ (No. 445), by Charles de La Fosse (1636-1716); _Hercules fighting the Centaurs_ (No. 53), by Bon Boulogne (1649-1717); and _The Marriage of St. Catherine_ (No. 55), by his brother Louis Boulogne (1654-1733), only serve to illustrate the mediocrity of their respective authors. The impersonality of Bon Boulogne’s art had at least the advantage that his teaching left free scope for personal expression to his many pupils.

Even the still-life painting of the “_grand siècle_,” which found its chief exponent in Jean Baptiste Monnoyer (1634-1699), partakes of the love of pomp and display that characterises this period. Gold and silver vases, precious stuffs and furniture generally accompany his flowers, which are painted without real appreciation of their natural beauty, and in purely local tints without a hint of the effect of each colour upon its surroundings. The _Flowers_ (No. 648), in the La Caze Gallery, may be mentioned as a typical example.

BATTLE PAINTERS

The battle painter, Jacques Courtois (1621-1676), called Borgognone and Le Bourguignon, though born in France, was so completely under the spell of the art of Italy, the country where he spent almost his entire life, that he can scarcely be reckoned as belonging to the French school. His furious cavalry _mêlées_, though entirely imaginative (as such confused encounters of horsemen piercing each other’s ranks have never taken place in actual warfare), are painted, like the _Cavalry Fight_ (No. 151), with a touch as swift as it is sure and expressive, and full of exuberant vitality.