SPANISH PAINTING
TEXT BY A. DE BERUETE Y MORET
(DIRECTOR OF THE PRADO MUSEUM, MADRID)
1921
EDITED BY GEOFFREY HOLME
“THE STUDIO,” LTD., LONDON, PARIS, NEW YORK
LIST OF ARTISTS WHOSE WORKS ARE REPRODUCED IN THIS VOLUME
IN COLOURS
PLATE
El Greco (Domenico Theotocopuli)
_La Gloria de Felipe II (The “Glory” of Philip II)_ III
Francisco de Ribalta
_San Pedro (Saint Peter)_ VII
Don Diego Rodriguez de Silva y Velázquez
_Venus y Cupido (Venus and Cupid)_ XII
Francisco de Goya y Lucientes
_El Columpio (The Swing)_ XXIV
Joaquín Sorolla
_Saliendo del Baño (After Bathing)_ XXXIII
Luis Masriera
_Sombras Reflejadas (Reflected Shadows)_ XXXVI
José Pinazo
_Crepusculo (Twilight)_ XXXIX
José Benlliure Gil
_Haciendo Bolillos (Lace-making)_ XLII
Fernando Alvarez de Sotomayor
_Paisanas Gallegos (Galician Peasant-women)_ XLV
Francisco Sancha
_Un Pueblo Andaluz (An Andalusian Village)_ XLVIII
IN MONOTONE
Hernando Yáñez de la Almedina
_Santa Catalina (Saint Catherine)_ I
Juan Pantoja de la Cruz
_Philip II_ II
El Greco (Domenico Theotocopuli)
_San Pablo (Saint Paul)_ IV
_El Entierro del Conde de Organ
(The Burial of the Count of Orgaz)_ V
_Retrato de un Caballero (Portrait of a Nobleman)_ VI
Francisco de Zurbarán
_El Beato Dominico Enrique Suson (The Dominican, Henry Suson)_ VIII
Don Diego Rodriguez de Silva y Velázquez
_Calabacillas el Bufon (Calabacillas, the Buffoon)_ IX
_Las Meninas (The Maids of Honour)_ X
“ “ “ “ (_detail_) XI
_Philip IV_ XIII
_Infante Baltasar Carlos_ XIV
“ “ “ (_detail_) XV
La Dama del Abanico (The Lady with a Fan) XVI
Fray Juan Rizi de Guevara
_Un Caballero Joven (A Young Cavalier)_ XVII
Bartolomé Esteban Murillo
_Moises tocando la Roca (Moses striking the Rock)_ XVIII
_El Milagro de los Panes y los Peces
(The Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes)_ XIX
_San Felix de Cantalisi y el Niño Jesu
(St. Felix of Cantalisi and the Infant Christ)_ XX
_La Caridad de Santo Tomas de Villanueva of Villanueva)_ XXI
Don Juan Carreño de Miranda
_Retrato de una Dama (Portrait of a Young Lady)_ XXII
Claudio Coello
_Don Juan de Alarcon_ XXIII
Francisco de Goya y Lucientes
_La Cucaña (The Greasy Pole)_ XXV
_Autorretrato (Portrait of the Painter)_ XXVI
_Conde de Fernan-Nuñez (detail)_ XXVII
_Infante Don Carlos Maria Isidro_ XXVIII
_La Condesa de Chinchou (detail)_ XXIX
_El Duque de San Carlos_ XXX
Eduardo Rosales
_Mujer saliendo del Baño (Woman leaving the Bath)_ XXXI
Mariano Fortuny
_El Patio de la Alberca en la Alhambra
(The Alberca Court in the Alhambra)_ XXXII
Ignacio Zuloaga
_La Señorita Souty_ XXXIV
Eduardo Martinez Vazquez
_Una Aldea de la Sierra de Gredos (Avila)
(A Village in the Sierra de Gredos, Avila)_ XXXV
Gonzalo Bilbao
_Las Cigarreras (The Cigar-makers)_ XXXVII
Ramón de Zubiaurre
_Retrato de mi Esposa (Portrait of my Wife)_ XXXVIII
Antonio Ortiz Echagüe
_Supersticion (Superstition)_ XL
José Gutíerrez Solana
_Carnaval en la Aldea (The Village Carnival)_ XLI
Claudio Castelucho
_Niños Gitanos en la Playa (Gipsy Children on the Beach)_ XLIII
Juan Cardona
_Altar de Mayo (May Altar)_ XLIV
Carlos Vazquez
_Una Dolorosa (Our Lady of Sorrows)_ XLVI
José Mª Lopez Mezquita
_Pilarcita_ XLVII
José de Marti Garces
_Interior_ XLIX
Nicolás Raurich
_Terruños (Rough ground)_ L
José Ramón Zaragoza
_Viejos Bretones (Old Bretons)_ LI
Conde de Aguiar
_Retrato de un Torero (Portrait of a Bullfighter)_ LII
SPANISH PAINTING--WITH SPECIAL REFERENCE TO THE EXHIBITION AT BURLINGTON
HOUSE, LONDON NOVEMBER, 1920 TO JANUARY, 1921
The exhibition of Spanish Painting held in London in the galleries of
the Royal Academy from November to January last, excited a lively
interest in the English public and inspired numerous articles on the
subject in English journals and reviews. If all of these were not in
accord on certain issues and critics adopted various points of view, it
may still be said that the crowds of visitors which it attracted and the
manifold expressions of opinion it evoked supply the clearest evidence
that the exhibition aroused the curiosity of the English public, and
consequently may be regarded as a triumph for Spanish art and a success
for its promoters.
The reasons underlying the interest which Spanish art awakens to-day in
enlightened circles (this is the second exhibition of the kind which
Spain has of late witnessed beyond her borders, recalling that of Paris
in 1920) are worthy of reflection and may be said to have inspired the
Royal Academy’s exhibition.
Spain--her life, history, customs, art--is often regarded subjectively
as though enveloped in a haze, or through the medium of legend, which,
however accommodating it may be to literary expression, is by no means
conformable to the facts of history or present realities. Viewed in this
picturesque manner and because of the isolation in which the country
remained for generations, and perhaps still remains, it has attracted
the attention of writers and poets, and even scientists and
philosophers, unfamiliar with their theme and dubious in their
assertions. Doubtless the typical, the true native spirit has not been
misunderstood by the outside world. Thus in the case of Cervantes and
Velázquez, their names are household words in every land. But the kind
of knowledge to which we allude is not usually imparted by such lofty
spirits, who speak to humanity from the heights, without distinctions of
race or frontier. That which they accomplish is only a part of the
national achievement. It is the medium in which it is fashioned, the
environment in which it comes into being, its artistic matrix, which
determines the precise type of racial endeavour. To its national
character the new Spain cleaves, and by its light her ideas will be
readjusted, her history interpreted, her present respected as in line
with her tradition, which, in the sphere of things artistic, Spaniards
regard as a potent factor in the advancement of world art.
Spain is familiarly spoken of as a country of distinctive character, and
is so not only because of its geographical situation, which has kept it
somewhat apart from frequented routes, but because it aspires to such a
reputation. At the present time it is incessantly productive of art, its
output exhibiting a specific character of its own, obvious and
intelligible to those who examine it with sufficient care. Undoubtedly
it has been influenced at certain periods by extraneous currents, but
during the sixteenth century, when the true Spanish school was created,
it was notably independent and unique. Its productions, these national
qualities which above all determine that which is called a school,
possess a character of their own, a special determinative essence, which
can only be explained by metaphysical processes. But at the same time
they display external manifestations, an ultimate expression, a speech,
an idiom, so to speak, peculiarly national. And this speech in art is
quite as fundamental as the spirit which determines the nature of the
creation. All-powerful, or at least very great, is the spiritual
capacity for creating mighty works _in mente_. But the various schools
of art came into being not only because they enshrined an idea, but
because they were able to give it form. The characteristics of the
expression, not of the idea, of form, not of essence, these it is to
which the critic should address himself in the first instance when he
desires to differentiate between the works of one school and another,
and when trying to distinguish the work typical of one artist from that
of others of the same school, who have been less successful in following
a common master. The creative idea, the spirit which animates every
work, is distinct, according to the period of its origin, even in the
case of the productions of the same race at different periods; but in
expression its form is always similar, its ideas the same. As in
literature writers of one nationality have to employ a common tongue, so
in painting an expression equally conclusive, a palette, a technique, an
idiom quite as definitive, determines the compositions typical of each
race. If we find scattered throughout a museum where there are examples
of all schools, a Saint by Greco, an ascetic figure by Ribera, a
portrait by Velázquez, an image by Zurbarán, a visionary subject by
Valdes Leal, a Virgin by Murillo, and a woman by Goya, it is probable
that these works will contrast with one another too forcibly, or at
least will not blend harmoniously. Each of them belongs to an epoch, and
possesses a distinct creative and æsthetic spirit. But, even so, we will
find that although the works belong to different schools, and variations
and dissimilarities abound, all have one speech, one ultimate idiom in
common; in a word, all have been painted in Spanish.
It is not easy to state precisely in what this ultimate expression
consists, but on general lines it is possible to affirm of Spanish
artists that their work is characterised by a decided tendency towards
sincerity, simplicity of composition and tonal harmonies in grey.
Velázquez appears to have fixed the character of the Spanish palette and
technique: the scale of very subtle greys, the harmonies of grey and
silver, the use of certain carmines and violets, first encountered in
the work of Greco, were tested and employed by him, as were those
coloured earths especially indigenous to Spain, the earth of Seville and
the preparation of animal charcoal, the use of which is noticeable in
his canvases. These determined the material elements by the aid of which
was developed a method of painting as simple as characteristic.
Velázquez, like the painters of the great Italian school and the schools
of the North, grew tired of conventionalism in colour and perspective,
and, employing an exuberant palette and gifted with vision of
extraordinary keenness, turned to the natural, and, with the lesson of
Greco before him, and by aid of his own gifts of observation, sincerity,
and a supreme simplicity, did not employ more than the necessary colours
to obtain those gradations of tone which to our eyes appear so natural
and present the harmony afforded by reality, the master by choice and
temperament inclining to those in which were combined all the shades of
grey. He created by his unique palette the true and unmistakable Spanish
style. Goya, more than a hundred years after him, during the close of
the eighteenth century and the beginning of the nineteenth, a period
when the national characteristics tended towards insipidity, maintained
this traditional spirit and thus saved Spanish painting from becoming
confounded with the works of his contemporaries in France and England.
The years which followed those of Goya, the remainder of the nineteenth
century, those years of easy communication, of rapid transit, of
frequent travelling, of international study and residence abroad, so
much more advanced in some respects, were less rich for Spanish
painting. Spanish artists, absent from their country, engaged in many
departments of work and instruction, lost something of their former
qualities. At the present time, in which there seems to have been born
into the world a new assertion and exaltation of nationality, Spaniards
have regained their ancient spirit, and while aspiring to absolute
modernity, remain faithful to a tradition which is peculiarly their own,
which makes for national individuality, and has caused them to be
regarded with that interest which always accrues to the original, the
characteristic, the intelligent, and consequently arouses attention and
anticipation.
* * * * *
England has ever followed the progress of Spanish art with enthusiasm
and interest. During the nineteenth century, the majority of the works
of art which left Spain found a resting place in England. In London
within recent years three exhibitions of Spanish painting ante-dated
that of 1920--one in the New Gallery (1891), another in the Guildhall
(1901), and the last in the Grafton Gallery (1913). All of them were
rich in results, more especially the third, which was remarkable for its
modern section. The difference in character between the exhibition of
1913 and that of the Royal Academy in 1920 consists more especially in
the display of works belonging to English collections, the latter being
composed for the most part of examples sent from Spain as an act of
homage to the English people, and to assure them once more of the
existence of a spiritual bond or tie between the two countries, which
with the passage of time aspire to a more intimate relationship.
It was at first the intention of the organisers of the exhibition of
1920 not to send as representative of the older art any except the works
of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries and a few pictures by Goya,
as examples of the golden age of Spanish painting, and especially in
view of the exceptional interest in Goya. But it was ultimately decided
to furnish an exhibit completely representative of all epochs. At the
same time the Spanish Committee recognised that the section devoted to
Primitive Art--in which among the many artists represented the most
remarkable was Ribera--was lacking in distinction. This it regretted and
felt a pleasure in its ability to compensate for the omission by
providing a full representation of the greater Spanish painters, and in
being able to lend ten Grecos and twenty-one Goyas, preserved in Spain,
to Burlington House, a thing until now impossible of accomplishment and
which it will not be easy to repeat.
The works of the primitive period placed on view, though all of peculiar
interest, and several of striking character, were still inadequate to
give a just idea of the development of early art in the Iberian
Peninsula. The first essays of Spanish art were indeed lacking in
national characteristics. At a time when Italy and Flanders produced
painters of distinctive note, Spain, and perhaps the whole
Peninsula--for in this connection we must not forget Portugal--filled
its churches, monasteries and convents with panels and altarpieces. With
the exception of the names of several artists now identified, all of its
productions are of doubtful paternity, its style is borrowed and in
general is distinguished only by the possession of regional
characteristics of a minor kind. Therefore the paintings on panel that
it produced are to-day referred to, in order to distinguish them one
from another, as belonging to the Castilian, Portuguese, Catalan,
Aragonese or Valencian Schools. For this there is an historical reason.
The Peninsula, at the time in which its early art was produced, was
divided into different kingdoms and states, each absolutely independent
and having its own history and traditions. Thus the kingdom of Aragon,
with Valencia, was intimately connected with the Mediterranean, and came
within the sphere of Italian influence. Castile was more closely related
to the states of Flanders and the Rhine, admitting and developing
Flemish and German tendencies. Catalonia possessed an art very similar
to that of Provence. But I believe that all this work, chaotic, lacking
in national expression, and in determinative characteristics, presents a
difficult problem for its investigators. Add to this that these panels
and altarpieces were often the joint work of several artists, one
painting costumes, others specialising in heads and hands, others in
drapery, still others in backgrounds, so that the whole resulted
frequently in a composition confused and equivocal. All that can be said
with any degree of certainty is that the production of this time was
large, rich and of great merit, so far as that can be attained by a race
of colourists who were lacking in discipline and insight.
This manifestation of pictorial art did not obtrude itself in any
decided manner until the fourteenth century. To discover its origin we
may have to compare it with the miniatures in the manuscripts of San
Isidor, or the archaic mural decorations traceable by Byzantine art, and
it would seem to possess a greater archæological than artistic interest.
Spanish art during the last years of the thirteenth century and until
two centuries later is so incomplete in its details, presents so many
diverse aspects, and the circumstances of its rise and tendency are so
vague, that to venture any general opinions regarding it would be
unwise. Its study has recently been confined to short monographs by
various critics and scholars, both Spanish and foreign, which do not go
beyond the discussion of specific works and artists, and the particular
investigation of obscure titles and documents exhumed from the archives.
The arrival of Starnina and the Florentine Dello at the Court of Juan I
of Castile in the second half of the fourteenth century, appears to have
given a very great impetus to that style to which the Spanish painters
were growing accustomed. But this Italianism notwithstanding, Flemish
influences penetrated, if more lately, still more rapidly into Spain.
The early Spaniards pursued and sought a realism in art which they were
unable to find in that of Italy, hence their predilection for the style
and manner of the Flemish and German painters and those of other
countries whom they came to call painters of the North. The appearance
of Van Eyck in the Peninsula in 1428, and that of other Flemish painters
who arrived there about that time, aroused a true enthusiasm and
imparted to Spanish art a tendency to copy faithfully from nature which
henceforth came to be one of the characteristics which have never left
it. Among these painters of the North it is strange to find, a little
before the middle of the fifteenth century, an artist called Jorge
Inglés (George the Englishman), so named, without doubt, from his
origin, who did some important work, especially in the hospital of
Buitrago, the study of which we heartily commend to the English public
and critics. We should like to have sent this work to the exhibition of
the Royal Academy, but its enormous dimensions, as well as other
circumstances, rendered this impracticable.
During this epoch, the composition of Spanish works begins to show the
use of colours prepared with oil, thus permitting the development of a
technique more in conformity with the Spanish temperament. Consequently
the new medium appears in the works of many masters, among the first of
these recorded being _La Virgen de los Consellers_, painted and signed
by Luis Dalmau in 1445.
Andalusia, a region which has come in more recent times to be regarded
as the cradle of Spanish artists, produced at this time not a few
painters. The work, _Saint Michael_, of the master Bartolomé de
Cárdenas, which was exhibited at the Royal Academy, pertains to this
rich and flourishing period, which gave an impetus to the forces then
impelling all Spanish life toward the national union which came to pass
in the reign of the Catholic kings. Two new centres of activity arose at
this epoch, which greatly fostered the rise of Spanish civilisation and
favoured the development of pictorial art--two cities glorious and
historical in Spain--Toledo and Salamanca.
Side by side with this budding art--which was in a certain sense
inspired by the schools of the north, but nevertheless began to display
a national tendency--a few isolated artists, either by preference or
training, still retained the Italian style. We recall the _Santa
Catalina_ of Hernando Yáñez de la Almedina (Plate I.), shown at the
exhibition, a work which has not been sufficiently appreciated and must
be regarded as a beautiful example of that period.
Arising at the close of the epoch of national unity, the House of
Austria, in the person of its most exalted representative, the Emperor
Charles V, commenced to govern the destinies of Spain. The victorious
expansion of Spanish arms, both in the Old World and the New, during the
first half of the sixteenth century, had but little influence upon
artistic effort, and none of the Spanish painters of this period are
regarded as the equals of their Italian, Flemish, German or Dutch
contemporaries. And our artists, at a time when the entire national
fortunes were hazarded in campaign after campaign, had enough to do to
maintain an epoch of gestation, to comprehend the laws and trace the
spiritual current of the Renaissance which now dawned upon the world of
culture. This great movement failed also to take a national direction
with Spanish artists, and the few books and treatises on art printed in
Spain during this period are poor in conception and lacking in
information.
Even to mention the names of the painters of the period, it would be
necessary to burden this critical sketch with a list of artists of
secondary importance. In his art Alonso Berruguete was certainly
Italian, but in spite of this, he gave to his works a marked national
stamp, maintaining in the central portion of the Peninsula a patriotic
inspiration which resulted later in a separate school of culture.
Valencia, with artists trained in Italy, was preparing a great
reputation for the future, and then a painter of individuality, isolated
in a minor province, and having few relations with the Court, created
with his brush an austere art, a little dry and stiff, ascetic in its
inspiration and scarcely suggestive at first sight, but striking in its
individuality, and reflecting that spirit of Spanish theology and
mysticism which was to dawn somewhat later. I refer to Luis de Morales,
the maker of all these _Dolorosas_ and _Ecce Homos_, so unmistakable and
so much esteemed in Spain.
We come now to the reign of the son of Charles V, Philip II, a man whose
memory has had to endure much criticism, but to whom, from the point of
view of art, his country owes not a few of those works which it
treasures most. The portraits of Moro, a wealth of Flemish and Italian
paintings and, among others, a very complete collection of Titians, are
due to the commands of Philip II, who, before he shut himself up in the
Monastery of the Escurial, and during his visits to Italy, Germany and
Flanders, was gathering choice examples of the art of that time, and of
the period immediately preceding it, installing in the castles of Spain
those paintings which are to-day the most important of the foreign
collections housed in the Prado Museum.
But meanwhile the true national output of those years, mostly of
religious pictures, was destined for the churches and convents, and must
no longer be regarded as of minor importance. Meanwhile, also, by royal
command, there arrived in Spain the works of foreign masters, and in
Court circles there arose a style of painting exclusively devoted to the
_genre_ of the portrait, and which is known to-day as the school of
portraitists of Philip II and Philip III. Its origin is known to us. It
is due to the teaching which our painters received from that famous
Hollander, Antonis Moor, who had so close a relation with our country
that his name has become hispanicised, and who is equally well known
to-day by his Dutch name, as by the more Spanish-sounding Antonio Moro.
Patronised by Philip II, he gave instruction to certain Spanish
painters, especially to one, Alonso Sanchez Coello, who was his disciple
and successor in art. Another Spanish follower of his, besides Coello,
was Pantoja de la Cruz, and the third and last of those who maintained
this school and who completed its cycle, was Bartolomé González, who
flourished during the first years of the reign of Philip IV. Other
portrait painters, disciples and imitators of these might be mentioned,
but the artists alluded to typify this school, brief in its development,
very distinguished and typical, though, as we have said, not of Spanish
origin. Their characteristics are quite unmistakable. They paint a
life-like portrait, dry, hard, minute in execution, and complete in all
its details, to the treatment of which they pay much attention,
especially as regards personality. But although skilful and sincere,
their school degenerated and the last of its manifestations is
practically an imitation of the first, possessing little excellence and
scanty inspiration. Portrait painters of the Court, as we have
indicated, the works of these men, though in general replete with strong
personality, especially as regards the royal family portraits, have been
scattered throughout the world, and were practically confined to the
palaces of other reigning houses.
In the London exhibition we were able to study the most important of
these several works, for example that of Pantoja, _Portrait of Philip
II_ (Plate II.), who is represented as elderly and on foot, a
full-length portrait which faithfully reflects the appearance of this
monarch, and which is housed in the Monastery of the Escurial. It
appeared at the Royal Academy, being lent for the purpose by His Majesty
the King of Spain. There were others, the property of His Britannic
Majesty, which are housed in Buckingham Palace, the portraits by Sánchez
Coello of the _Archdukes of Austria_, _Wenceslaus_, _Rudolf_ and
_Ernest_, the _Portrait of the Infante Don Diego_, and that of _Margaret
of Austria_. That by Pantoja, _Portrait of a Lady of the Palavicino
Family_ (regarding the authorship of which various doubts have arisen),
though not of artistic importance, certainly presents a critical
problem, for while the art of portrait painting was being developed in
Spain, in other countries and particularly in Italy, the disciples of
the school of Moor created works which might at times be confounded with
those of Spanish painters. Bartolomé González was also represented by
the portrait of the _Cardinal Infante Don Fernando of Austria_, lent by
the Marquis de Viana.
* * * * *
About the year 1575 there came from Italy to the city of Toledo, a young
artist, scarcely thirty years of age, born in the island of Crete, of
Greek parents. He was called Domenico Theotocopuli, and was known then,
as he is to-day throughout the whole world, as El Greco (“the Greek.”)
There was reserved for this man the mission of shaping and, in the
course of time, perfecting through the medium of his works, a technique,
especially as regards execution, performance and character, which is
manifest in all his creations, and the great enthusiasm which the lovers
of Spanish Art evince for it is natural and explicable. The fame which
the first works of El Greco aroused in Toledo reached the Court, and
Philip II commanded him to work in the Monastery of the Escurial on
pictures for the Church. They were at issue from time to time, the King
and the painter, and do not quite seem to have understood one another.
Philip II, used to an Italian and Flemish artistic atmosphere, and an
enthusiastic admirer of Titian, was unable to comprehend the work of El
Greco, which, though of the Venetian tradition, represented an
innovation profound and complete, and to-day, as four centuries ago, it
perplexes many people. But lovers of Spain, those who apprehend her true
genius and have studied her characteristics and idiosyncrasies, see in
El Greco one of the most interesting figures in international art. In
the spirit which appears in his works, the genius with which they have
been performed, the marvellous technique developed in them, and the
workmanship which gives such brilliance and quality to the colour, so
that it appears at times to have been executed with enamels, he
triumphs, disarming criticism, making us not only forget, but even
applaud the extravagances and lack of proportion of which his works are
full.
The work of El Greco may be divided into two distinct groups: one
comprising human figures in general, portraits; the other divine
figures, images, and religious paintings. In one work, the most complete
and important of all, the _Burial of the Count of Orgaz_ (Plate V.),
these two aspects are joined. The upper portion, the heavenly, which it
would seem the painter suffused with his idealism, is peopled with
divine figures, symbolic and incorporeal. In the lower part, which
represents an earthly scene, the form and colouring have the qualities
of things terrestrial. In the exhibition of the Royal Academy, in the
salon set apart for the works of El Greco, there were gathered ten
examples eloquent of these two phases of his effort. His _Self-portrait_
and _A Trinitarian_ exhibit the second; _The Annunciation_ and the
_Christ embracing the Cross_ the first. Another canvas which occurs to
one as affording a good example of his brilliance of colouring and
individuality is the picture full of miniature figures, _The “Glory” of
Philip II_ (Plate III.), sent to London by His Majesty King Alfonso
XIII.
In this collection of his works, as indeed, in all those from the brush
of this master, one could study the origin of the greyish tonality
characteristic of the Spanish school which he was the first to introduce
and give effect to, and to which Velázquez, in later years, gave
definite form, thus founding a technical characteristic of the school.
It may interest those curious regarding such problems of painting that
the shadows which abound in the works of El Greco, though intense, are
never black, and this lends to them a singular profundity and
atmosphere. From this relation of the light and shade, never attaining a
pure black or white, there results a wonderful transparency and
corporality, and all this is attained with fluid colours, in most
instances blurred and rubbed and nearly always rather soft, slight only
in the brighter places and in the points of light. He observes and
understands that the reproduction of these things in the art of the
painter is not due to faithful copying alone. The atmosphere, the light,
the reflections, which these objects display to our sight, change
according to conditions, and are represented on canvas not as they
actually appear, but according to the aspect they present to the vision,
modified by external agencies. Only thus is it possible to obtain the
impression of truth, of movement, of depth. In the work of the copyist
the objects and figures are petrifications, rigid and dead, in one and
the same plane, in which, perhaps, the ability of the artist can more
readily be appreciated, but which never gives the impression of movement
or of life.
Distinctive as a creator, originator and master of technique, statements
regarding El Greco’s artistic antecedents are debatable, as for example
the relationship to other masters of Byzantinism which some profess to
be able to discern in his pictures. But it remains clear that in his
typical works he is above all the true interpreter of the Spain that was
noble, pious and mystical, and the most sympathetic delineator of the
spirit of the time in which he lived. We believe that it is correct to
regard him as the adopted son of the Spain of his day.
Although his work has been discussed since the times of Philip II,
to-day it ought to be regarded as consecrated. It is not only among
painters that we should seek the true influence of El Greco. It is more
extensive, and embraces diverse manifestations, therefore the causes
which animate it are diverse. And so, in the studios of painters, in the
studies of the cultured, among wise and refined critics, among literati,
we may discover the most fervent and impassioned lovers of El Greco.
There exists, without doubt, an invisible bond between this painter and
the world of modern intellectualism, and this is owing in great part to
the enthusiasm which his works arouse, to the peculiar mystery in which
they are enveloped--which we do not find in any other painter--to the
suggestive power which he wields, to something which impassions and
completely subdues us. It is for this reason that disciples of El Greco,
who in past years were scarce, are to-day a legion in number, and their
pictures, once unknown and without value, are now celebrated and occupy
prominent positions in museums and private collections.
* * * * *
Neither Tristan, nor Mayno, nor Jorge Manuel Theotocopuli are figures
sufficiently important to allow us to say that El Greco, their master,
founded a school, much less that he formed with them the so-called
Toledan school, which, in reality, had no existence and did not give
rise to an output from that city possessing those marked characteristics
which would place it in the category of a school.
It has to be recorded that in the last years of the sixteenth century
Philip II brought from Italy several Italian decorative artists to paint
in fresco the extensive walls of the Monastery of the Escurial. He may
have wished to bring with him for the purpose some celebrated foreign
masters, but this was not possible, for the most important epoch of the
Italian Renaissance had come to an end; and instead of great masters,
there came others, decadents, facile “hacks,” who in a short time
covered these enormous wall-spaces with compositions of scanty
inspiration. We mention the visit of these painters to Spain, not
because of any importance it has in itself, but in order to show that
Spanish painters, even those of standing, have in all times been lacking
in the qualities which especially characterise the decorative painter.
Philip II might have encouraged Spanish artists. But whom--Morales, El
Greco, the artists of the Court, the lesser followers of El Greco in
Toledo? No, none of these appear to have been qualified to bring such a
task to a conclusion. This and nothing else was the cause of the coming
of the Italians; and for the rest the King favoured the works of various
Spaniards, placing many examples of their work in his palaces and in the
religious houses he founded. And so Spanish painting remained in this
particular position to the close of the sixteenth century and during the
first years of the seventeenth, which is regarded as its golden century,
when, in the midst of fruitful invention there arose four great figures,
each to-day world-renowned--Ribera, Zurbarán, Velázquez and Murillo.
What centres of artistic life did Spain possess at this time? Two,
fundamentally; those two cities which have since produced the greatest
number of painters and the most able--Seville, the capital of Andalusia,
the open gate to the New World, and Valencia, a Mediterranean port
exposed to the influences of that which had been the classical world,
and in close and direct communication with Italy, which bequeathed to it
the last sparks of the marvellous life of the Renaissance. In Valencia,
Francisco Ribalta, a conscientious painter, who had studied in Italy,
introduced a style of colouring after the manner of Ribera. In Seville,
frequented by all the Andalusian intellectuals, Pacheco, a most cultured
artist, came later on to be the master of Velázquez and Zurbarán. In the
exhibition with which we are concerned Ribalta and Pacheco, more famous
for the disciples they left than for the works they produced, were
represented, the first by Saint Peter (Plate VII.) and his portrait of
himself as _Saint Luke painting the Virgin_; and the second by the
_Portrait of a Knight of Santiago_.
A disciple of Ribalta, the figure of Ribera rises suddenly like that of
a great master, with all the distinction which the title implies. Going
to Italy while yet very young, he passed the greater part of his life
there, and was known as “Lo Spagnoletto” (the little Spaniard). The
Italians have tried to appropriate this artist to themselves, but his
truly Spanish character is so manifest that no one can entertain any
doubt upon the point. On arriving in Italy, he studied the works of
Raphael and Correggio, finding his true _métier_ at last in the energy
and the chiaroscuro of Caravaggio, who then opposed a realistic style to
the pseudo-classicism so noticeable at this time. Ribera, whose work
exhibits the attributes of Spanish technique, and who above all excelled
in drawing, a quality which distinguished him while still very young,
naturally found in Caravaggio, the master of the chiaroscuro, more
inspiration than in others of the classical painters and those Bolognese
eclectics who were afterwards his imitators and rivals. He went to
Naples, where he quickly achieved a fame which spread throughout Italy
and Spain, his native land, with which he had never lost the most
intimate relations as an artist, and here, in Naples, flattered by
fortune and with riches heaped upon him, he continued to produce his
admirable canvases, until the seduction of his daughter, the most
beautiful of all his models, by the second Don John of Austria, the
natural son of Philip IV, hastened his end.
The frequency with which he represented tatterdemalions, beggars,
martyrs, saints, scenes of violence, of torture, of asceticism, marks,
as everyone knows, the style of Ribera in its more superficial sense,
and there is scarcely a scene of horror nor a picture of exaggerated
tenebrosity belonging to that period and of Spanish tendency, which has
not been attributed to him by persons of slight experience, so typical
of him are these qualities, in which, moreover, he has no equal. Quite
as exceptional are his vigour, his skilful modelling--which has the
appearance of sculpture--and the anatomical construction of his figures,
the effects of lighting which he knows how to achieve, and the exact
appearance of reality, accentuated, but never repugnant, which he
accomplishes. Always in touch with reality, two styles are apparent in
his work: one, in which he appears to have revelled in violence of
contrast, seeking out scenes of grief, old age or death; and another,
less frequent it is true, in which he represents the more serene and
placid aspects of reality.
It is a pity that the London exhibition did not have a full and
brilliant display of the work of this master, as thereby his fame, which
to-day is, in our judgment, less than he merits, for reasons expressed
above, might have been securely founded. It is necessary to mention
among the Valencians of this period Espinosa and Orrente.
In Seville, as we have said, Pacheco was at the height of his fame, the
master of all, the fount of culture. But the technique of this school at
that time was under the influence of a man of a perplexing and stubborn
genius, little suited by character as a guide for youth, but still
animated by the Spanish spirit, subtle in technique and possessing a
notable force of expression. The young men followed his style, which was
in consonance with the progressive tendency of their years. We refer to
Herrera el Viejo (the elder) one of the most remarkable painters Spain
has ever produced. But it is a curious circumstance that those disciples
who worked in the atelier of Herrera, unable to get much guidance from
the master, soon betook themselves to the house of Pacheco, who,
intelligent and comprehensive, did not attempt to misdirect the
temperament and the inclinations of his young pupils, but set them to
the task of faithfully interpreting nature.
Zurbarán and Velázquez, the most notable by far of all their
contemporaries, protested against the conventionalisms of scholasticism.
They did not seek to embellish the rude form, which the living model
frequently presents to the eyes of the artist in search of a higher
ideal, but to copy it as they beheld it, as it was presented to them,
without distortion or falsity, was the purpose which they maintained
faithfully all their lives. Pacheco appreciated the talent and outlook
of these young men, he protected it as much as he could, and above all
cultivated those qualities which seemed to him the most striking.
Velázquez said to him: “I hold to the principle that nature ought to be
the chief master and swear neither to draw nor to paint anything which
is not before me”; and Pacheco, encouraged by the tendency towards a
frankly naturalistic style which his disciple showed, and observing the
qualities which he evinced, made Velázquez his son-in-law before he had
arrived at the age of nineteen.
Among such tendencies the art of Zurbarán and Velázquez was evolved. The
works of their youth were almost alike. They are sufficiently
distinguished later because, while the first hardly ever left the
neighbourhood of Seville, expanding but little, Velázquez, as is known,
developed a whole pictorial technique.
Zurbarán was born in 1598. He was therefore a year older than Velázquez.
By birth he did not belong to Seville, but to the province of
Estremadura. But this notwithstanding, he grew up among the artistic
influences of Andalusia, for the young painter arrived in Seville at the
age of sixteen years, so that he is regarded as one of the greatest
figures of the Sevillean School. For twenty-five years the artist was
famous for his figures of virgins and saints, realistic in character,
powerful, well drawn, vigorous and conceived without exaggeration, full
of life and individuality. We mention as a work great in conception the
_Apotheosis of Saint Thomas_, housed in the Museum of Seville. It is
characteristic of Zurbarán the refractory, who refused to be inspired
either by foreign or national influences. This lent him individuality
and rendered his productions a series of continuous links between which
but little difference can be remarked. He is famous, moreover, for his
religious paintings, his monastic visions. These figures of monks in
white sheets, which arouse admiration and appear to be carved, such is
the relief of their draped folds, are characteristic and full of
grandeur, feeling and austerity, and ought to be regarded in the light
of actual documents of the monastic life of the Spain of the seventeenth
century.
The distinctive feature of the technique of Zurbarán is the luminosity
rendered by means of strong contrasts of light and shade. High lights
without crudity and shadows without blackness are noticeable, as in the
works of Ribera. The grey tones are never heavy, and their quality,
harmonious in its blending, diminishes the hardness of the lines of
profile, suppressing all rigidity. Zurbarán is, moreover, a painter
easily understood, who rarely has recourse to a symbolism more or less
appropriate for the expression of thought, and his ideal aspirations
always present, in all that refers to form, a manifest passion for
reality.
This master was well represented at the Royal Academy. Perhaps there was
nothing of great distinction, but the nine works from his brush, all of
one kind, were in general very typical and individual, comprising
images, saints and figures realistic in character (Plate VIII.).
* * * * *
We have alluded to the manner of Velázquez’s appearance in Seville and
the influences under which he commenced his apprenticeship. A multitude
of studies seriously executed, some in black chalk, some in colour, were
his first essays. While still a youth he painted a number of those works
which still astonish by their reality, by their masterly drawing--a
quality with which he was naturally endowed--by their sculptural relief,
and by their sobriety. Two works may serve as typical of these, both
well-known in England, where they now are, _The Old Woman Frying Eggs_
in Sir Herbert Cook’s collection, and the _Water-Carrier of Seville_,
the property of the Duke of Wellington, which we quote as an example of
the style and resolution which the artist bestowed during these years
upon works of a popular character, and which, to judge from its subject
and models, was then a novelty in a school of painting which had
produced scarcely anything except portraits and paintings of a religious
kind. Other works of a naturalistic tendency, vulgarly called
_bodegones_, or “eating-house” sketches, and some of a religious
character, complete the production of those first years of Velázquez,
which was so limited in his later years, that he must be described as a
painter whose output was relatively small.
When the artist was twenty-four years of age, his father-in-law,
Pacheco, a man of influence, advised him to leave Seville, and himself
introduced him to the Court of Philip IV, in whose service Velázquez
remained for the rest of his life. He was immediately granted a position
and salary at the Court, and his first portraits of the Sovereign and
members of the Royal Family aroused surprise and admiration. These, and
his first subject compositions painted in Madrid, especially that known
as _Los Borrachos_ (“The Topers”), in their high excellence show the
culmination of all the qualities found in the works painted in Seville
during his first years of apprenticeship. Never has the Spanish
picaresque spirit, which forms such a brilliant page in the literature
of those times, been given a more genuine representation than is to be
observed in the canvas just mentioned. If Velázquez had died after
painting _Los Borrachos_, this work alone would have sufficed to have
given him supremacy and the title of leader of a school previously
indefinite and lacking a fixed and individual point of view.
A little later, at the command of his King, Velázquez went for the first
time to Italy. The influence which Italian art exercised upon him has
been the subject of discussion. It is not possible in an essay such as
this to try to elucidate this point, but it appears manifest that if
Italian art was naturally absorbed by his talent, it did not greatly
affect his native qualities; and to judge from his subsequent work, it
would seem that he showed a constant and single-minded solicitude to
achieve an interpretation always actively faithful to nature.
The picture _Las Lanzas_ (“The Lances”); the equestrian portraits of
kings, princes and others, in which these personages appear dressed in
hunting costume; those of the buffoons of the Court; the _Scenes of the
Chase_ in the mountains of El Pardo; and some others of a different
type, such as the _Christ on the Cross_, in the Prado Museum, make up
the tale of his output after his brief stay in Italy, and compose what
critics have called the second style of Velázquez, more ample and grand
than that of his youth, and, as time advances, enriching all the works
which come from his brush with those definite grey harmonies which are
occasionally almost silvery in tone, so characteristic and so
unmistakable.
The painter was for a second time in Italy in the period of his
maturity. He then painted the portrait of _Pope Innocent X_, and
executed a bust of _Juán de Pareja_, which was on view in the exhibition
at Burlington House. Returning soon afterwards to Spain, he there
addressed himself to the accomplishment of his greater works, which
truly reveal a superior art, somewhat enigmatical in its very
simplicity, a sublime style which at first sight does not seem to
require much comprehension and the view-point of which has given to the
Spanish School of all times, as well as to other schools, rich legacies,
excellent examples and notable fruits. There belongs to this epoch of
his artistry the portraits of kings and princes, the second series of
the court dwarfs, even more rich and astonishing than those of the
period of his middle years, some religious pictures, mythological works
and, lastly, the two great works _Las Hilanderas_ (“The Spinners”) and
_Las Meninas_ (“The Maids of Honour”) (Plates X. and XI.), supreme
monuments of a school, models of synthetic art, of astonishing
simplicity in their composition, of delicate harmony, eloquent of the
study of values, masterpieces, in short, of sublime painting, which, of
an apparent modesty, are, notwithstanding, magical works, spontaneous
creations, which shew neither exertion, weakness, nor weariness, and
which seem to us the result of an art serene and calm, contrary to the
influences of great idealistic conceptions, but which, essentially
objective, reproduce the natural with a truth which is unsurpassed.