which, equally with his portraits, are quite peculiar to himself, but
differing from all others not from any eccentricity of manner, but from
their giving the real essence and character of the scene, when denuded
of any trifling and extraneous matters. Whatever Rembrandt touched was
impressed with the peculiar characteristics of his genius; hence it is
that the smallest stroke in his etchings is pregnant with truth. Though
painting belongs exclusively to no country, but represents the natural
appearance of each, still it is reserved for genius alone to be able to
perceive and place on canvas the essence, as it were, or great leading
features of the subject. I am now more particularly speaking of
landscape scenery. In all countries and climates there are peculiarities
of effect, which, however interesting to the traveller, or a source of
investigation to the philosopher or man of science, yet are necessarily
excluded from the recording pencil of the artist; his appeal is to
mankind at large, not to the isolated few who observe but one side of
the subject. The true artist looks upon nature as the chameleon, capable
of giving out any variety, and yet all equally true; hence it is that
the skies, for example, of Claude, Salvator Rosa, and Gaspar Poussin are
universally subordinate to the general effect of the picture. These men,
living in Italy, were quite aware of the various prismatic effects
observable in sunset, but were also convinced of the necessity of making
the sky subservient, at least conducive to, the breadth and harmony of
the picture. It may be said that Titian and Tintoret embodied the deep
and intense blues of the Venetian atmosphere, but we may remark that
their skies are always held in check by the deep reds and browns of the
draperies of their figures. Let us now, however, turn our remarks more
immediately to Rembrandt, and the scenery and effects observable in
Holland. Any one conversant with the pictures of the Dutch school must
have observed peculiar features in the skies of Backhuysen, Cuyp, and
Rembrandt, arising entirely from the localities of the scenes of their
several pictures. My young friend, E. W. Cooke, long a resident in
Holland, and a keen and observing artist, remarked that the skies in the
pictures of Backhuysen, though dark and inky, were precisely what we see
now--the deep Zuyder Sea swallowing up any refraction of light which
would otherwise have illuminated the clouds; while the skies of Cuyp,
receiving the coruscations arising from the meeting of the two rivers,
the Meuse and the Waal, the scenes of most of his pictures, exhibit
that luminous reflection and unsteady appearance peculiar to his works.
I mention these matters, not to prove that these great observers of
nature followed implicitly what was presented to their observation,
but to show that when even copying the peculiar character of natural
phenomena, it was done with a strict reference to the harmony of their
works, and made subservient to one great broad principle. In a flat
country like Holland, especially where a low horizontal line is chosen,
we perceive a peculiar feature takes precedence of everything else--that
is, the quick diminution of those lines which run to the point of sight,
whilst the lines running parallel with the base line of the picture
retain their length in a greater degree; hence the accumulation of these
lines, such as the division of fields, &c., gradually shade down the
distant parts of the landscape, while the foreshortened lines assume
the appearance of so many spots, or dark touches. In Rembrandt we
perceive this character faithfully rendered, and also, assisted by his
judicious management, the lines, such as the banks of canals or roads,
as they reach the foreground, are strongly pronounced, by either
bringing them in contact with strong light, or giving them breadth and
force by enriching them with broken ground, reeds, or dark herbage. The
objects that stand up, such as trees, &c., are enlarged and darkened
as they approach the eye; thus not only enabling them to keep their
situation, but also to assist the perspective effect in the highest
degree. His small landscape etchings illustrate these remarks, and are
full of the touches of truth and nature; and where objects are wanting
to give variety and interest, he introduces masses of shadow, or dark
clumps of trees, leaving other parts in mere outline. The love of his
art caused him to be always provided with the materials for drawing and
etching, so that we have these transcripts of nature fresh from the
fountain head. We know this from an anecdote mentioned by Daulby. In
describing the etching of "Six's Bridge," in his catalogue, he says,
"This plate was produced by an incident which deserves to be related.
Rembrandt lived in great intimacy with the Burgomaster Six, and was
frequently at his country seat. One day, when they were there together,
the servant came to acquaint them that dinner was ready, but as they
were sitting down to table, they perceived that mustard was wanting.
The Burgomaster immediately ordered his servant to go into the village
to buy some. Rembrandt, who knew the sluggishness of the Dutch servants,
and when they answer _austons_ (a-coming) they are half an hour before
they appear, offered the Burgomaster a wager that he would etch a plate
before his man returned with the mustard. Six accepted the wager, and
Rembrandt, who had always plates at hand ready varnished, immediately
took one up, and etched upon it the landscape which appeared from the
window of the parlour in which they were sitting. The plate was finished
before the servant returned, and Rembrandt won his wager. The etching is
slight, but it is a wonderful performance, considering the circumstance
that produced it." It is not wonderful on account of the rapidity with
which it was done, but the genius and science that pervade every touch,
not only in the general arrangement, but in the judicious management of
the smallest darks; they are all in the most effective situations. When
the plate was bit in, the name was left out; it was afterwards added
with the dry point; also a little shading was given to the hat of one
of the figures on the bridge, which in the rare state is white. I may
notice here that it was also Rembrandt's practice to sketch with the dry
point alone, as several of his landscapes show; this has a very rich
and full effect. His most finished and striking landscape is perhaps the
etching of the "Three Trees." What I have said respecting his giving
force to those parts nearest the eye, may be seen in the strong dark
under the platform of the mill--which etching I have given, as it has
always been considered the mill in which he was born; but I believe it
is merely a mill of a picturesque character, which he consequently
etched. In the rare impressions, the sky is much stained on the plate
towards the house and mill, and I believe intentionally so, as it
enables the subject to melt more softly into the background, by the
outline being less harsh; at least, I found in my copy, when the person
employed to clean the margin of the plate cleaned the stains in the sky
also, that I had to restore them. As it will be necessary to go over the
ground again with regard to Rembrandt's landscapes, when we enter upon
an investigation of his principles of colour, I shall now commence upon
that department, fully conscious how high he stands as an artist in that
difficult branch of the art, at the same time aware how feeble words
must be to express adequately the deep-toned richness of Rembrandt's
colouring.
[Illustration: SIX'S BRIDGE]
[Illustration: REMBRANDT'S MILL]
COLOUR.
Perhaps, if we can comprehend a species of coloured chiaro-scuro, or
the addition of colour to the broad and soft principles of light and
shade, we shall be able to form a clear perception of the effects of
Rembrandt's colouring. Indistinctness of tint, such as colours assume
under the influence of twilight, is a strong characteristic of his
manner--the shadows never so dark that a black or blue cannot tell
firmly in the midst of them; with the total absence of all harshness,
from the outlines of objects melting into their adjacent grounds,
or assuming an importance after emerging from a mass of indefinite
corresponding hues. As he has a mass of shadow with a mass of light, so
he has an accumulation of warm colours in opposition to a congregation
of cold--every combination introduced conducing to the great principles
of breadth. When such is the plan upon which a work is laid down, we can
easily perceive how powerfully the smallest touch of positive colour
will tell--as in the midst of stillness a pin falling to the ground
will be heard. Cuyp has this quality in a high degree, only on another
scale--a uniformity of unbroken tone, and in masses of half-tint
only, like a few sparkles of light touches, dealt out with the most
parsimonious pencil, producing a glitter like so many diamonds. This
it is that prevents a work from being heavy, for by their fewness they
require not the aid of black grounds to give them consequence, and by
their being touched upon colours of the same quality, they avoid the
appearance of harshness; in fact, the principles of these two great
artists were the same; only from the general tone of Cuyp's pictures
being light, his strong darks tell with great power, and Rembrandt's
half tints being of a low tone, his high lights become more forcible.
I may here mention not only the breadth of Rembrandt's shadows,
but their peculiar transparency and clearness, loose in the handling,
and filled with air and space, whereas his lights are solid and
firm--possessing not only the characteristics of nature in
distinctiveness, but also in variety; and though we see always, on a
general principle, light upon light and dark on a dark ground, yet we
perceive inroads made upon each by their several antagonists; hot and
cold colours darting into each other's provinces. This practice is also
conducive to breadth, for tints of different hues may be interspersed
both in the darks and lights, provided they are of equal strength
with those adjoining them. We may observe in Rembrandt--that those
colours introduced into the shadows are more under the influence of
indistinctness, while those in the light are brighter; this is quite
a deviation from the Roman school, where the colours are pronounced
so harshly as to set the influence of chiaro-scuro at defiance.
Barry, in his sixth lecture, speaking of colours, says--"The happy
effects of those sure and infallible principles of light and colour
which Rubens had so successfully disseminated in the Netherlands, were
soon found in every department of art. Landscapes, portraits, drolls,
and even the dullest and most uninteresting objects of still life,
possess irresistible charms and fascination from the magic of those
principles. Rembrandt, who, it is said, was never at Venice, might,
notwithstanding, have seen, without going out of his country, many
pictures of the Venetian school. Besides, he was about thirty years
younger than Rubens, whose works were a general object of study when
Rembrandt was forming himself. But, however it be, there is no doubt,
for the colouring and chiaro-scuro, Rembrandt is one of the most able
artists that ever lived. Nothing can exceed the beauty, freshness, and
vigour of his tints. They have the same truth, high relish, and sapidity
as those of Titian. Indeed, they have the closest resemblance to the
hues of Titian when he had Giorgione most in view. There is identically
the same attention to the relievo and force obtained by his strong
shadows and low deep tones; and his chiaro-scuro, though sometimes
too artificial, is yet often (particularly in contrasted subjects)
productive of the most fascinating effects. In the tones of Rembrandt,
though we recognise the same richness and depth as in Giorgione and
Titian, yet there is a suppleness and lifelike character in his flesh
unlike either, both from his manner of handling, and also his hot and
cold tints being less blended."
The late Sir David Wilkie, in one of his letters, speaking of the death
of Sir Thomas Lawrence, says--"I do not wonder at the impression made
among you in Rome by the death of Sir Thomas Lawrence; here, it
engrossed for a time every other pursuit. One of the last remarks he
made to me indicated his extreme admiration of Sir Joshua Reynolds, who,
he thought, had, with Rembrandt, carried the imitation of nature, in
regard to colours, further than any of the old masters." In many of the
higher qualities of colour and chiaro-scuro, Reynolds comes nearer to
Rembrandt than any other artist who has succeeded him.
Reynolds, in his lectures, speaking of Gainsborough, observes--"We
must not forget, whilst we are on this subject, to make some remarks
on his custom of painting by night, which confirms what I have already
mentioned--his great affection to his art, since he could not amuse
himself in the evening by any other means so agreeable to himself. I am,
indeed, much inclined to believe that it is a practice very advantageous
and improving to an artist, for by this means he will acquire a new
and higher perception of what is great and beautiful in nature. By
candlelight, not only objects appear more beautiful, but from their
being in a greater breadth of light and shadow, as well as having a
greater breadth and uniformity of colour, nature appears in a higher
style, and even the flesh seems to take a higher and richer tone of
colour. Judgment is to direct us in the use to be made of this method of
study; but the method itself is, I am very sure, advantageous. I have
often imagined that the two great colourists, Titian and Coreggio,
though I do not know that they painted by night, formed their high
ideas of colouring from the effects of objects by this artificial light.
But I am more assured that whoever attentively studies the first and
best manner of Guercino will be convinced that he either painted by this
light, or formed his manner on this conception."
How far Coreggio may have formed his principles upon the effects of
lamplight it is impossible to decide, seeing that, though his shadows
have great breadth, yet his lights have more of a phosphorescent
character, tinged, as it were, with the coolness of moonlight; but
Titian has all the glow of this property, or, as Reynolds remarks, "as
if he painted with the sun shining into the room." The Italian pictures
of Vandyke have much of this phosphorescent character--whereas many of
those he painted in England have more of a daylight appearance. With
regard to Rembrandt, he seems to have regulated the entire scheme both
of his chiaro-scuro and colour, on this foundation: his many paintings,
drawings, and etchings of candlelight subjects, show how much his taste
led to this class of art; and his daylight pictures, from the warmth of
colour and breadth of shadow, proclaim the source from which he derived
the cause of their brilliancy and force. From the light being tinged
with yellow, the half-tone partakes of the same warmth, which gives a
greenish tint even to his grey tones. This conduct conveys an emanation
of the principal light passing over the more delicate shadows. In his
daylight subjects it is not so; the light being often comparatively
cool, is allowed to extend its influence to the secondary lights, and
then, as it subsides into the shadow, is led in by the dark being
lighted up by touches of red and brown; thus the light touches in the
dark are warm, though the high light and secondary are cool. In Coreggio
we often find the shadows more hot than even in Rembrandt, from his
principal light and secondary being more cool. Rembrandt never allows
his lights, even though comparatively cool, to pass into the shadow
without a few touches of warm colour; this was the practice of Rubens,
to enrich, as it were, "the debateable land." When this principle of
painting candlelight subjects fell into the hands of his pupils, the
harmony and colouring of the whole were lost or changed. For example,
Hoogstraten, his pupil, instructed Schalcken, as did also Gerard Dow;
but the candlelight pieces of Schalcken are hot and foxy, without any
redeeming grey tones. When he painted by candlelight, he placed his
sitter in a dark room, with a light, while he painted in another
apartment, having a hole cut through the door to communicate with his
sitter; the consequence was, the effect gave exactly what we see in
such cases--a red, dull treatment of colour. We know these facts by an
anecdote told of William the Third. When Schalcken was over in England,
the King wished to sit to him for his portrait, and hearing of his
celebrity in candlelight pieces, wished it painted under that effect.
The painter placed a light in his Majesty's hand, and retired into the
outer room; the candle guttering, kept dropping on the King's hand,
but being unwilling to disturb the artist, the King held on, while the
painter, intent on his work, proceeded without noticing it. Many of our
English artists paint by gaslight; but the tones of the flesh are not
benefited, gas shedding a white cool light compared with lamplight.
The practice of painting by candlelight originated neither with
Rembrandt nor Gainsborough; in fact, we find that all academies, from
the time of Bacio Bandinelli to our own, were always opened at night,
both for the purposes of drawing and painting. But these effects
generally remain where they originated, and are seldom taken advantage
of without the walls, the figure alone being considered, without
reference to the background. Tintoret was one of the first to apply the
principles to his practice. Fuseli, speaking of chiaro-scuro, says--"The
nocturnal studies of Tintoret, from models and artificial groups, have
been celebrated; those prepared in wax or clay he arranged, raised,
suspended, to produce masses, foreshortening, and effect. It was thence
he acquired that decision of chiaro-scuro, unknown to more expanded
daylight, by which he divided his bodies, and those wings of obscurity
and light by which he separated the groups of his composition;
though the mellowness of his eye nearly always instructed him to
connect the two extremes by something that partook of both, as the
extremes themselves by the reflexes with the background or the
scenery. The general rapidity of his process, by which he baffled his
competitors, and often overwhelmed himself, did not, indeed, always
permit him to attend deliberately to this principle, and often hurried
him into an abuse of practice which in the lights turned breadth into
mannered or insipid flatness; and in the shadows into a total extinction
of parts. Of all this he has in the schools of San Rollo and Marco given
the most unquestionable instances--'The Resurrection of Christ,' and
'The Massacre of the Innocents,' comprehend every charm by which
chiaro-scuro fascinates its votaries. In the vision, dewy dawn melts
into deep but pellucid shade, itself sent or reflected by celestial
splendour and angelic hues; whilst in the infant massacre of Bethlehem,
alternate sheets of stormy light and agitated gloom dash horror on the
astonished eye."
Rembrandt, like Tintoret, never destroyed the effective character
of his chiaro-scuro by the addition of his colour, but made it a
main contributor to the general character of the subject; hence that
undisturbed and engulphing breadth which pervades his works. Fuseli,
in the same lecture, defends the Venetian school from being considered
as the "ornamental school." After selecting several of the pictures of
Titian, as proofs of his grand and solemn specimens of colour, he thus
proceeds--"But perhaps it is not to Titian, but to Tintoret and Paul
Cagliari, that the debaucheries of colour, and blind submission to
fascinating tints, the rage of scattering flowers to no purpose,
are ascribed. Let us select from Tintoret's most extensive work
in the Scuola of San Rocco, the most extensive composition, and his
acknowledged masterpiece--'The Crucifixion,' and compare its tone with
that of Rubens and Rembrandt of the same subject. What impression feels
he who for the first time casts a glance over the immense scenery of
that work? a whole whose numberless parts are connected by a lowering,
mournful, minacious tone. A general fearful silence hushes all around
the central figure of the Saviour suspended on the cross, his fainting
mother, and a group of male and female mourners at its foot--a group of
colours that less imitate than rival nature, and tinged by grief itself;
a scale of tones for which even Titian offers me no parallel--yet all
equally overcast by the lurid tone that stains the whole, and like a
meteor hangs in the sickly air. Whatever inequality or dereliction of
feeling, whatever improprieties of commonplace, of local and antique
costume, the master's rapidity admitted to fill his space, and they
are great, all vanish in the power which compresses them into a single
point, and we do not detect them till we recover from our terror."
The picture of Rubens which we oppose to Tintoret was painted for the
Church of St. Walburgha, at Antwerp, after his return from Italy, and
has been minutely described and as exquisitely criticised by Reynolds:
"Christ," he says, "is nailed to the cross, with a number of figures
exerting themselves to raise it. The invention of throwing the cross
obliquely from one corner of the picture to the other, is finely
conceived, something in the manner of Tintoret." So far Reynolds. "In
Tintoret," says Fuseli, "it is the cross of one of the criminals they
attempt to raise, who casts his eye on Christ, already raised. The body
of Christ is the grandest, in my opinion, that Rubens ever painted;
it seems to be imitated from the Torso of Apollonius, and that of the
Laocoon. How far it be characteristic of Christ, or correspondent with
the situation, I shall not here inquire; my object is the ruling tone of
the whole--and of this the criticism quoted says not a word, though much
of local colour, and grey and ochry balance. Would so great a master of
tone as Reynolds have forgot this master-key if he had found it in the
picture? The fact is, the picture has no other than the painter's usual
tone. Rubens came to his work with gay, technic exultation, and by the
magic of his pencil changed the horrors of Golgotha to an enchanted
garden and clusters of flowers. Rembrandt, though on a smaller scale
of size and composition, concentrated the tremendous moment in one flash
of pallid light. It breaks on the body of Christ, shivers down his
limbs, and vanishes on the armour of a crucifix--the rest is gloom."
This is given with all the eloquence Fuseli was so well able to utter;
but it displays, also, a severe castigation on those who would class
Tintoret and Paul Veronese in the catalogue of ornamental painters.
The observations which seem to have kindled his wrath are to be found
in Sir Joshua's fourth lecture, in which he says--"Tintoret, Paul
Veronese, and others of the Venetian school, seem to have painted with
no other purpose than to be admired for their skill and experience in
the mechanism of painting, and to make a parade of that art which, as I
before observed, the higher style requires its followers to conceal."
But, to understand the matter, the whole lecture must be read. With
regard to the two pictures Fuseli brings into comparison with the
Venetian, both are described in Reynolds' Tour to Flanders and Holland.
Sir Joshua certainly criticizes the Rubens correctly with regard to
colouring; but sentiment it has none. The Rembrandt is now in the Munich
Gallery, and though one of his early pictures, it is very grand and
striking. Of it Reynolds remarks--"There are likewise in this room eight
Rembrandts, the chief merit of which consists in his peculiarity of
manner--of admitting but little light, and giving to that little a
wonderful brilliancy. The colouring of Christ in the elevation of the
cross cannot be exceeded--it is exactly the tint of Vandyke's 'Susanna,'
in the other room; but whether the ground of this picture has been
repainted, or the white horse, which was certainly intended to make the
mass of light broader, has lost its brightness, at present the Christ
makes a disagreeable mass of light."