but I have not the presumption to propose an absolute rule. That must
be for some one who, with the authority of a critic and an artist, can
command attention and reverence enough to enforce a new arrangement.
I must therefore be content to leave the FANCIES as an appendix to the
mythological division of the epic class, and proceed to cite examples
of the three great branches of legitimate historical pictures.
HISTORICAL PICTURES.
Here I know that in the very outset I shall shock all the sticklers for
the unities; for my very first section must consist of whole histories
represented in the same picture; admitting not only a variety of
actions belonging to the history, but even a repetition of the persons
engaged in it when it is essential, or even when it is convenient for
the narrative.
The second section contains those histories which are related in
a series of compositions, each forming a whole in itself, though
belonging to a cycle.
And the third section includes those works in which a single point in
history makes the picture.
First of the first section, I must name the taking of Troy by
Polygnotus, painted in fresco on the walls of the Lesche, at Delphi.
The description I have already given after Pausanias renders any
further account of it unnecessary.
The next example I shall cite is of the highest character and of the
highest authority. It is the most glorious justification of the breach
of the cold rules of critics, and shows that in some cases to abide by
the unities would destroy the spirit and sublimity of the work.
I speak now of the transgression and chastisement of man in the roof of
the Sistine chapel, by Michael Angelo.
In that composition there are not only two parts of the same history
told in the same picture, but the principal figures themselves are
repeated with equal force; and rendered, as to the picture, of equal
importance. And in what other way could the crime and its punishment
have been so closely, so awfully connected?
It is impossible to go into that chapel without feeling that the
pictures there are formed to make the rule for art, not to receive it;
and that the folly of confining genius by the flimsy laws of ordinary
criticism, is only equalled by that of the tyrant of old, who is
reported to have paved the bed of the ocean where it rolled beneath his
capital with gilded tiles, and to have expected it to reverence the
boundaries of his work.
But a number of those great men who had laboured in the long neglected
field of painting, and had stirred and loosened the soil, and prepared
it for the hands of Michael Angelo and Raffaelle, appear to have
disregarded the unities whenever the nature of the subject rendered it
convenient, and with excellent effect, as I hope to show when I come to
give an account of their works.
There is one picture of this kind by an ancient Flemish artist of such
transcendant merit, that I shall endeavour to describe it as a model
for this treatment of historical subjects. The picture is by Hemelink,
and is now in the possession of the King of Bavaria[161].
The shape of the picture is long and narrow, and the horizon is placed
very high, by which means room is given for the different actions
represented. One rich and varied landscape fills the whole picture,
forming the back ground to the groupes of actors in the history, which
are placed with consummate skill, and so ordered by means of linear and
aërial perspective, as to produce a most attractive whole, while each
part is carefully dealt with.
The subject is usually called the Journey of the Three Kings or Wise
Men to worship the Infant Jesus; but the picture has two episodes, the
Adoration of the Shepherds, and the Resurrection and Ascension, one of
which occupies the right side, and the other the left.
The extreme distance is formed of a ridge of hills, a little in
advance of which three mounts are distinguished, and the ridge is
farther broken by an inlet of the sea, over which the sun is rising
in splendour. The shape of the bay is graceful, and it is enlivened
by ships; the shore has wood and sand, and the termination of a great
road to diversify it. One of the mounts forms a promontory to the left
of the mouth of the bay, which is on the right of the picture. Between
it and the second mount is seen the star, not interfering with the
splendour of the sun, but having a bright distinct light of its own.
We may suppose it discovered at once by three groupes, apparently
engaged in worship, on the summits of the three mounts. On account
of their great distance, they are just indicated; the only thing
distinguishable in each, being a coloured banner.
At the foot of the first mount a river winds through the country, and
appears as if it found an outlet to the bay behind a rising ground
near the middle of the picture, on the slope of which, forming also
the middle distance, stands the city of Bethlehem; and outside of the
gates, quite in the foreground, is the place of the Nativity.
From the country of the kings, a road which crosses the river by a
bridge, leads to Bethlehem, and along this road the kings are seen
advancing, each with his proper attendants, armour, and banner.
Baldassar, the Moor, has a white banner, on which a negro in red is
painted; Melchior, the eldest king, has a blue banner, distinguished by
a golden moon; and Caspar, the third king, has a banner also blue, but
speckled with white stars.
These, with their retinue, all meet near the bridge, which they cross,
and enter Bethlehem together. The figures are repeated at the meeting
and at the city gates. While in the town, the train of the wise men
disperse themselves through the streets, mixing with the inhabitants,
while in an open corridor, the three kings are seen eagerly conversing
with Herod. Once more they are seen taking leave of him before they
are finally brought to the feet of the infant Saviour, who, seated on
the lap of his virgin mother, receives them with a benignity and grace
worthy of the pencil of Raffaelle himself.
Of the skilful grouping of the central subject, commonly called the
Wise Men’s Offering, of the beautiful and true action of each person,
the rich dresses of the attendants, the drawing of the figures, and
also that of the horses and camels, it is not my province to speak any
more than of the exquisitely finished execution. Yet all these assist
the history powerfully, and we might have been satisfied that all was
told.
But the painter did not rest here. On a broad road, winding along a
rocky valley, the kings are once more seen, after having paid their
homage to the Christ, going to their own land by a different way. Some
of their attendants have already reached the shores of the distant bay,
and are preparing the ships to receive their masters.
Meantime, the effects of Herod’s disappointment are discoverable.
On the other side of the town of Bethlehem, towards the bridge, the
murder of the innocents takes place; it is distant enough to veil its
horrors, near enough to distinguish the facts. But we are assured that
the child, and his mother, and Joseph, are safe; for we see them on the
road to Egypt, on the same side of the picture whence the southern king
arrived. As they pass, an idol, placed upon a column, bows and falls,
While each peculiar power foregoes his wonted seat.
And thus the history of the Adoration of the Three Kings, or Wise Men,
with its immediate consequences, is completed.
Of the two episodes, the smaller preparatory one to the left contains
three scenes, divided from each other by portions of woody landscape.
The most distant is the Annunciation; the middle is the Angel appearing
to the Shepherds; and the nearest, the Adoration of the Shepherds. All
composed and finished, as carefully as the scenes of the main action,
but by skilful management never interfering with it.
The greater or supplementary episode begins near the foreground, in a
recess of the hills through which the road leads, by which the kings
depart from Bethlehem. Christ is risen, and appears with the banner of
salvation, freed from the garments of the dead! Farther off he appears
to Mary Magdalene in the garden, and then to his mother; and farther
still he walks with the disciples towards Emmaus, where he breaks bread
and blesses it. Hard by, on the mount of the Ascension, the disciples
are kneeling, while the form of Christ is faintly seen through the
glory that mingles with the sky. But the purpose of his being on earth
would not be shown, were not the descent of the Holy Spirit seen on
the right hand. The event in itself has produced a beautiful picture,
and taken, as it should be, along with the great whole to which it
belongs, completes and perfects the history.
To the three remarkable works I have quoted as examples of histories,
with a variety of events treated in one and the same picture, I might
add many more; but I will content myself with naming a work, too much
neglected by modern travellers, in the chapel of San Felice, in the
great church of St. Anthony, at Padua. It is by Aldighieri, a pupil
of Giotto, and is, unfortunately, darkened by the erection of a huge
insulated marble altar-piece before it. The subject is the Crucifixion.
The journey of Christ to Calvary forms one great preparatory incident,
the crucifixion itself, and its attendant miracles, the main action:
and the casting lots for the sacred vestments, is the concluding
scene.--This is not the place to speak of the pathos Aldighieri has
thrown into the first division, the dignity amounting to grandeur in
the main action, or the skilful grouping and expression of the last
scene. But I think it will be allowed that the painter has done well
to unite the two minor actions with the greater, and thus complete the
history. The examples of one history carried on through a series of
pictures, are so numerous that the difficulty lies in choosing the
most striking. Cimabue’s and Giotto’s lives of Saint Francis at Assisi,
where each event is the subject of a separate picture; and Giotto’s
life of Christ and of the Virgin at Padua, may be thought by some
readers too antiquated to form authorities for the practice.
To such, therefore, I will recommend the example of Raffaelle in the
Loggie, where the history of the Old Testament is carried on in that
beautiful series of designs which ranges in order along the ceiling of
those magnificent corridors[162].
Luini’s series of pictures at Saronno, Andrea del Sarto’s at Florence,
and those of Domenichino at Grotto Ferrata, are among the finest works
of these great masters. Every series contains a history.
Luini’s are the life of the Virgin.
Those of Andrea del Sarto relate to the life of Saint John the Baptist,
and are among the most admired of his compositions.
In one of the pictures at Grotto Ferrata, where Saint Nilus, the
hero of the series, casts out the evil spirit from the demoniac boy,
Domenichino strives not unsuccessfully against the demoniac in the
Transfiguration, where, for once, it must be allowed, that Raffaelle
has fallen below Domenichino in truth of expression.
My third section of historical paintings is acknowledged by even those
who object to the others. It contains such pictures as show a single
action complete in itself.
I shall name a few examples among the antique painters, such as the
Ajax struck with the thunderbolt by Apollodorus, and the Infant
Hercules of Zeuxis. I am not sure whether to place the Contest of
Ulysses and Ajax for the Armour of Achilles, in this or the next class.
The pictures of Apelles appear to have been all either portraits
or belonging to the fancies. The Battle of Alexander and Darius,
by Philoxenus, seems, from description, to belong strictly to this
section, and no doubt there are very many others; but, as we are no
where told how many of the subjects were treated, it is impossible to
class them.
Of modern pictures belonging to this section, the first and greatest
is the Raising of Lazarus by Sebastian del Piombo[163], one of
the finest oil pictures in the world; Raffaelle’s Entombment of
Christ[164]; his Spassimo[165]; Titian’s Christ scourged[166];
Correggio’s Nativity[167]; Fra Bartolomeo’s Presentation of Christ in
the Temple[168]; Daniel da Volterra’s Descent from the Cross[169];
Albertinelli’s Salutation[170]; Spagnoletto’s Entombment[171]; the
small picture by Rembrandt of the Adoration of the Shepherds[172];
Rubens’ famous Descent from the Cross at Antwerp; and a thousand
others, that a moment’s recollection will bring to every body’s
remembrance. There are also a number of profane subjects treated so
as to bring them under this class; particularly Poussin’s Death of
Germanicus, and his Testament of Eudamidas. The great rival designs
of Leonardo da Vinci and Michael Angelo, namely, the Battle of the
Standard and the Surprise at the Bridge, now lost, were, if we may
trust descriptions, and some few remaining fragments, so treated, as
to bring them also into this section[173]; and I think no German would
forgive me if I were to omit Albert Durer’s Massacre of the Christian
Legions by Sapor the second[174].
Connected with this class, in the same manner as the Fancies are
with the Epic pictures, is a whole class composed of single figures
of an historical character. Among the first of these is Bellini’s
Christ[175]: several of Raffaelle’s Madonnas find their place here.
His Apostles certainly do[176], as well as his Saint Margaret[177].
There are many beautiful examples of this kind of picture by Giotto
at Florence, by Luini at Milan and Soronno, and by Bellini at Venice,
especially one in the little church of Santa Maria del Fiore. The
Judith of Allori is likewise a fine specimen[178]; but among the very
finest are Fra Bartolomeo’s Christ, and his Saint Mark[179]. These will
not belong to the pictures where supernatural beings are introduced,
they have too much the character of portraits, and might indeed be
called imaginary portraits; and no doubt the feeling intended to be
excited by the earliest of them was, the belief in their being true
representations of the objects of veneration. Among pictures of this
character are many _Ecce Homos_, of which the most afflicting to look
upon is that of Cigoli[180]; and we must also class here Coreggio’s
beautiful Magdalene[181].
The imaginary heads called Sybils, by Domenichino, Guido, and Guercino,
the Magdalenes of Guido, the Cleopatras, Sophonisbas, and Lucretias,
are surely left near enough to their old dignity of historical
pictures, when ranged under the same head with those I have just named.
DRAMATIC PICTURES.
This class is naturally divided into two sections: the higher Tragedy,
and Drama of a mixed character.
The ancients, from what we learn by description, cultivated both kinds.
For examples of the first we have the Iphigenia of Timanthes; the
Theban mother of Aristides, and the Medea of Timomachus.
Of the second kind, there were the Feigned Madness of Ulysses by
Euphranor; the Great Sacrifice by Pausias, and several others, which we
can now never know but by description.
When I speak of the higher tragedy, I do not mean such only where blood
is shed before the spectator, but that grave kind which brings all the
inmost serious thoughts together, and prepares the mind for the sublime
and the terrible.
I do not fear to name the Last Supper of Leonardo da Vinci first in
this class. Seen only in its decay, and only to be studied in separate
drawings of the heads, or in Uggione’s copy[182], it still obtains
a power over the imagination that few other works of art ever reach.
The sublime calmness of the Saviour in pronouncing that one of them
shall betray him, allows us for the moment to sympathise with the
heart-struck apostles, who, according to their various characters,
self-confident, or self-doubting, are ready with the words, “Lord! is
it I?” or, “though I die with thee I will not betray thee.” Never was
expression more intense, or action more true. Again we turn to the
Saviour, and feel that in his soul the sacrifice was already complete,
the bitterness of death had been tasted, and the full agony of the
cross endured[183].
At Viterbo there is in the church of the Franciscans an altar-piece,
designed by Michael Angelo, and painted by Sebastian del Piombo. It is
composed of two figures only. A very pale moonlight shows the figure of
the Virgin seated on the earth, and pressed close to the body of her
crucified son, which is extended on a white linen cloth before her: her
face is turned upwards in the attitude of prayer. Words cannot convey
an idea of the awful and reverential feelings excited by this picture.
But Raffaelle is above all others a Dramatic painter. The Miracle of
Bolsena in the Stanze is a marvellous scene. The officiating priest;
the self-convicted, and now convinced, doubter; the reasoning,
calculating spectators on one side; the enthusiastic believers on the
other, all conduce to the great event which is to produce a further and
permanent effect.
The Incendio del Borgo is another strikingly tragic composition, and
were this a proper place, it would be easy to prove the claims of the
Cartoons to a high rank in the class, but for my purpose it is enough
to name them as belonging to it.
The Crucifixion by Tintoret is among the grandest Dramatic pictures
I have seen[184]; and there is a picture at Venice which accident
prevented my seeing, but which, if it deserves Vasari’s description,
ranks among the first of this class. “A picture (by Giorgione) in the
college of San Marco, where the turbid sky thunders, the very canvass
trembles, and the figures start and disperse themselves through the
scene in the darkness of the shadow[185].” The subject was the bringing
of the body of Saint Mark to Venice on board of ship.
A picture by Caravaggio, less seen than it deserves to be, must be
named here. It is in the chapel of Saint John the Baptist attached to
the great church at Malta, and represents the decollation of the saint.
Saint John and the executioner occupy the immediate foreground: a woman
leaving the court of the prison, where the scene is placed, applies her
hands to her ears that she may not hear the fall of the axe; while two
prisoners are looking, with the curiosity of terror, from the grated
window of the gaol. The composition, colour, and expression are all
terrible and highly dramatic.
To the second, or mixed class of Dramatic pictures, belong many of
Paul Veronese’s great works, such as the Great Supper of Saint Gregory
in the Refectory of the Servites, at Santa Maria del Monte, near
Vicenza: his Marriage at Cana; the pictures in the church of Saint
Sebastian at Venice, and many others. A great number of Tintoret’s
pictures also find their proper place here[186]. Here also I would
place Titian’s Presentation of the Virgin in the Temple[187]; and here
some of Bonifaccio’s beautiful pictures, particularly the Feasting of
the Prodigal Son, a work that, for composition, colour, and expression,
is among the most beautiful I know[188]. I must not omit Andrea
Mantegna’s Triumphs[189], nor Rubens’ imitations of them. Poussin’s
Triumphs of David[190] are certainly dramatic, and so, perhaps, are his
Sacraments[191].
But it is time to consider the variety of character among the
Portraits, and to endeavour to class them.
OF PORTRAIT.
By historical portrait, I do not mean merely the likenesses of persons
whose names are to be found in history, or Lely’s and Kneller’s
works would have a chance of overpowering Raffaelle and Titian.
But such portraits as Apelles painted of Alexander, or Protogenes
of the tragic writer, Philiscus, sitting musing in his study, or as
Raffaelle painted of Giulio II[192], and Cæsar Borgia[193], or Titian
of Charles V.[194], and the Doge Grimani[195], or Andrea del Sarto of
the astute Machiavelli[196], or Velasquez of Pope Innocent X[197],
and King Philip[198], to say nothing of Rembrandt’s Burgomasters, or
Rubens’ Duke of Alva, or Vandyke’s Charles I. and his unhappy Queen,
and scarcely less unhappy courtiers. These are all single portraits
historically treated.
The second division of portraits must comprehend those so treated,
and composed of more than one figure. Such are the Leo X. and his
secretaries at Florence by Raffaelle; Titian’s unfinished Leo with his
two attendants at Naples, and his Cornaro family[199]; Paul Veronese’s
Pisani family in the characters of the family of Darius[200]; Rubens’
Conversation piece, composed of Grotius, Muersins, Lipsius, and
himself; Vandyke’s Charles I. with his Children; and such is also
Holbein’s family of Sir Thomas Moore.
But even the nameless persons painted by great men have often a
character and style which belong to historic treatment, and must not
be confounded with what Fuseli aptly calls “the remembrancers of
insignificance,” a class, however, not without merit, for it often
gratifies the affection of friendship, recals pleasing recollections,
and at worst, affords the painter occasions for the study of nature.
PICTURES OF FAMILIAR LIFE
Admit of being distributed into
Grave familiar subjects;
And subjects of Farce or Caricature.
That the ancients cultivated this branch of painting, I have already
mentioned, and given an example in Pyreicus, nick-named Rhyparographus,
on account of his pictures of shops and booths, of markets, and those
who supplied them, along with their beasts of burden. Callicles and
Calaces were both painters of little pictures, exhibited along with
plays and interludes, and no small number of painters caricatured the
remarkable public and private men of their times, by representing them
under the forms of animals and insects of different kinds.
Of the graver familiar life painters among the moderns, Ostade, Jan
Stein, Gerard Dow, Metzu, Terburg, have left innumerable examples, nor
have they failed in the class where Teniers holds the pre-eminence of
broader farce.
Had I not resolved against naming our own living artists, I should have
great examples to place in both these classes. In caricature, from the
days of Patch and Bunbury to the present time, we have exceeded all
times and nations.
LANDSCAPE.
Of the four distinct kinds of landscape, the Epic landscape in the
hands of Titian or Poussin unites with the grandest subjects of
painting. How admirably the landscape in the Peter Martyr aids the
subject! and in Sebastian del Piombo’s altar-piece at Viterbo, how
grand is the effect of that low horizon and rocky barren distance seen
faintly by the moonlight! Poussin’s Deluge is of the same sublime
character and hue, and as in the other two examples lends force to the
figures to which it is subordinate.
Of a more cheerful character other landscapes of Titian, some of
Mola, and many of Poussin, which I should call historical, divide the
interest with the figures, or rather the figures gain by being placed
in such scenes; Poussin’s Burial of Phocion[201], his two Israelites
bearing the Bunch of Grapes from the promised Land[202], the Exposure
and the Finding of Moses[203], are but a few of those he has painted of
this character, in which he is the great master.
The Antique landscapes must sometimes have resembled these, or they
would have been unsuitable to the subjects to which they formed
backgrounds. Rocky, wild, and terrible must have been the island,
and lurid the colour of the sea and sky, in which Apollodorus placed
his Ajax. When gayer subjects peopled the scene, such as the young
Satyrs watching the sleeping Cyclops, we learn that woody scenery was
imitated, and painting for the theatre had accustomed the ancients to
represent buildings and open country.