ART has never been reformed, after a lapse from high eminence, by
mere imitation of examples, however excellent; nor by only following
rules for the correction of error. It is here as in morals, example
succeeds where precept would fail. Some mind of uncommon firmness and
good sense is required, who, beginning with nature, brings to the
work of reformation original powers and severe judgment; fancy and
feeling, with correctness and cultivated taste: one, in short, of those
rare minds whose merits, great in themselves, become incomparably
greater viewed with the times in which they commenced their career;
whose exertions, wonderful in their own accomplishments, are yet more
admirable from the progress which thereby others have been enabled to
effect. Such a genius was that possessed by Canova, a name venerable
alike for virtue and for talents. Born, in 1757, in a distant and
otherwise unknown hamlet, in the territory of Treviso--fallen upon
evil days in his art--of the most obscure parentage, destined to fill
the humble and laborious occupation of village stone-cutter--remote,
in the first instance, from every advice and assistance, he rose to
be the companion of princes, the restorer of art, and the generous
patron of merit friendless as his own. We know not whether more to
love or to admire Canova. In his fifteenth year, repairing to Venice,
the cloisters of a convent supplied him, through the benevolence of
the good fathers, with a work-shop; and only fifteen years afterwards,
through a struggle of poverty, yet redeemed by prudence and industry,
and sweetened by independence, he erected in St Peter's the monument
of Ganganelli--the first fruits of a spirit, whose sobriety of
temperament, more valuable and more rare than mere original invention,
here exhibited a correctness which would amend, with a vigour which
would elevate, a fallen age.
A series of more than two hundred compositions, of which this was the
first, standing itself nobly conspicuous, yet only a step from previous
imbecility, presents too extensive a field for particular description,
or minute examination. The remembrance is yet fresh upon our memory,
when, arranged in a funereal hall, representations of these works
might well have been deemed the labours of a generation; and while
now about to describe the originals, we bear in recollection, that to
view these a considerable portion of Europe has been traversed. Thus
numerous, and widely extending the influence of their style, these
productions certainly, require careful notice. Avoiding details, then,
we shall class them under Heroic subjects; Compositions of softness and
grace--Monumental erections and Relievos.
The superiority of Canova, has been questioned in the first of
these departments only. He has been admitted a master of the
beautiful--hardly of the grand. Or rather, perhaps, while his claims
have been universally recognised in representing the softer graces
of loveliness, his powers in the sublimities of severe and masculine
composition are less generally appreciated. This estimation is unjust,
having been originated and maintained by causes entirely extrinsic to
the genius or labours of the artist. In not one, but many groups and
single statues, he has attained some of the loftiest aims of sculpture.
In manly and vigorous beauty of form, the Perseus; in forceful
expression and perfection of science, the Pugilists--a work, in its
peculiar range, one of the most classical of modern art; in harmonious
and noble composition, uniting nature and poetic feeling, the Theseus
combating the Centaur; in the terrible of sentiment and suffering,
the Hercules;--these, with the Ajax, Hector, Paris, Palamedes, all
belonging to the grand style of art, may challenge comparison with
any works of the modern chisel, in the beauties of sustained effect,
learned design, boldness yet exquisite delicacy of execution; while as
to number, the series here is unparalleled in the history of any single
mind. In the majestic or venerable realities of portraiture, again,
there is Napoleon, Pius VI., Washington, Ganganelli, Rezzonico.
In the second department, the compositions of Canova have enriched
modern art with the most glowing conceptions of elegance and grace;
raised, and yet more refined, by the expression of some elevating or
endearing sentiment. Here, indeed, has been allotted his peculiar
and unapproachable walk. Yet it may justly be doubted, whether he be
not superior in the former class, where his merit has hitherto been
denied or doubted. True, one or two works in the second, as the Venus
recumbent, the Nymph, and Cupid, are superior, as examples of beauty
and grace, to any one of masculine character which might be compared
with them; but, as a class, the second is less uniformly dignified and
excellent than the first. The great defect here, indeed, is a want of
dignity in the female figures; which, though equally removed from the
flimsy affectations of his immediate predecessors, as from the robust
and austere proportions of the Tuscan school, are not always free from
the meagre and the cold where grace is to be united with sweetness.
This seems to be occasioned by a want of harmony between the just
height and roundness of the forms--from an absence of those firm, yet
gracious contours, meeting, yet eluding the eye, rounded into life
and dissolving in the animated marble, which render, for instance,
the Medicean so incomparably superior to the Venus of Canova.
Throughout the whole of this class, there frequently runs a character
of composition too ornate--too elaborately pleasing, and which would
appear still more decidedly, were it not accompanied by inimitable
ease, and were not every part, even to the minutest ornament, an
emanation of the same refined taste and cultivated mind. It is this,
chiefly, which spreads their delightful charm of consistency over these
works; there is, on close examination, little derived immediately and
simply from nature. Every choice has finally, but not obviously, been
determined after much thought and many trials. All is that perfection
of art, by which art itself is best concealed, and which to its
creations lends the enchantment of nature's own sweetest graces.
In the monumental series of works, Canova displays all the practical
excellences of his genius, with more, perhaps, of originality and
simplicity than generally characterise his other labours. This class
consists of architectural elevations, supporting colossal statues, and
of tablets in relievo. Of the former, the tombs of the Popes at Rome,
of Alfieri at Florence, and of the Archduchess Maria Christina at
Vienna, are magnificent examples. The second constitutes a numerous and
very beautiful class, which, though composed of nearly the same simple
elements of design, a female figure, or a genius, in basso relievo,
mourning over a bust or an urn, yet exhibit much diversity of character
and arrangement. From each of these an example might be selected in
the tomb of the Archduchess, and the grand relievo of the O'Hara
family mourning over the funereal couch of the deceased daughter and
wife--equal to anything in the whole compass of art. To those who deny
the merit of Canova in relief, we recommend the study of this monument.
The former, representing a procession bearing to the tomb the ashes of
the dead, is one of the most arduous and noblest compositions extant;
and, judging from our own impressions, no record of mortality ever
better accomplished its purpose, whether to awaken regret for departed
virtue, or to tell, by its own perfection, that in man there exists an
intelligence which shall survive beyond the grave.
Although, from the series of works briefly mentioned, it would not be
difficult to prove Canova the most indefatigable--nor, when we consider
their influence, the principles they are calculated to enforce, and
the fallen state from which they rescued art, the most respectable--of
modern sculptors; yet, in estimating truly the rank and constituents
of his genius, there is no small difficulty. The very fertility of
that genius, diffusing its richness over every province of the art,
and, in each varied exercise, constantly displaying the same judgment
and taste, increases this difficulty, by blending into one harmonious
and regular effect, those outbreakings of peculiar energies usually
accompanying, and indicative of, great powers. Hence the character
of his mind might be pronounced, at first, as distinguished rather
by correctness than by force. Yet, of his talents generally, such
would be an erroneous estimate. His mind was deeply embued with both
fire and enthusiasm; his imagination, uncommonly active, was stored
with materials, but over the treasures thus lavishly poured forth by
fancy, severe scrutiny was held by the understanding. Energetic, and
even rapid, in composition, in correcting, and finally determining, he
was slow and fastidious--often changing, but always improving. Such
intellectual organization is by no means favorable to that grandeur
usually associated with highest genius, which frequently hurrying alike
the artist and spectator beyond reality, derives its very mastery from
daring disregard of rule, grasping, with dangerous hardihood, those
lofty graces, pardoned only when successful; and even then, however
they may elevate the individual subject or artist, not enriching art
with useful examples or solid acquisitions. But a mind thus constituted
was eminently fitted for correcting public taste, especially in
the serene majesty, the orderly magnificence, which compose the
true grandeur of Sculpture. Hence Canova is uniformly dignified
and consistent; correct without coldness, if he rarely attains the
highest sublimity; neither does he fall beneath himself, nor into the
extravagant. Compared with the ancients, many of his works remind us
of more than merely casual imitation; but it is no less true, that in
others of novel invention, he has applied, in not unsuccessful rivalry,
their own principles, the discovery of which forms his highest praise,
as constituting one of the most essential services ever rendered to
Sculpture. Among the moderns he claims pre-eminence, as the first who
established improvement upon genuine and universal precepts of art.
The perfection to which Canova seems to have aspired in the ideal,
appears to have been the union of the two elements of sculptural
design, keeping each in just subordination to beauty. Hence, in his
figures, form does not, as in the antique, constitute so entirely the
primary, and almost sole thought, neither is it so much subservient to
action and effect, as in the most eminent of the modern masters. In
like manner, the expression holds an intermediate character between the
unmoved serenity of the ancients, and the marked lineaments of Michael
Angelo. In some instances this union is very happily accomplished; but
generally, though always true, the expression is not often simple. The
only defect which can be discerned in Canova's selection of form, and
which is more especially to be found in his female, is a meagreness
and want of vigour; sometimes they too much remind us of the individual
model, and of those manners of life whence such models are usually
obtained. But speaking universally, the contours of this master are
full, flowing, and well sustained. And here we can discover the same
principles of design and practice which were pointed out in the best
era of the Grecian schools, with this novel precept, the discovery, or
at least uniformly successful application, of which belongs to Canova,
namely, that all grand parts may be resolved into a primary and two
secondary forms. As this ternary combination is sweetly, yet decidedly
marked, blending yet separating its constituent lines, the graceful
ease and infinite variety of natural outline is obtained. In every
statue of the modern, also, we find exemplified the principle adopted
from Phidias, and already noticed, namely, that from whatever resources
of imagination any figure may be composed, the final surface--all that
meets the eye at last--must be finished, and faithfully imitated from
individual nature.
There is still one characteristic which pre-eminently distinguishes
those works we are examining, namely, the exquisite beauty of
composition. They unite the dexterity and force which constituted
the peculiar praise of the masters of the sixteenth century, with a
delicacy, a refinement, and truth, exclusively their own. This is an
excellence of the highest import--not so much in itself as in its
consequences--for it can be introduced with good effect only when
the nobler elements of composition are present. A statue defective
in the higher qualities of art, would by high finish become only the
more ungracious: works of unblemished merit only admit with advantage
of elaborate technicality. Hence, among the ancients, the perfect
statues, in all other respects, are also the most highly wrought.
This excellence Canova seems to have been the first to remark and
to emulate, which he has done successfully, especially in the most
difficult parts--the extremities.
In short, when we view Canova in himself and in his works singly,
isolated from the age that preceded, and separated from that which now
follows his own, in concentrated energy and originality of mind, he
may hardly compare with Donatello, still less with Buonarotti, perhaps
not with our own Flaxman; but when we estimate his genius in the
varied, yet uniform excellence of his labours, in the principles upon
which these are conducted,--when we recollect the state of degradation
in which he found, and the elevated condition in which he left art;
and remember, too, that his own works and practice between these
extremes, were marked by no false splendors of talent, but must prove
a shining light, guiding to yet higher attainment; we must pronounce,
in truth and gratitude, that none other name is in merit so inseparably
associated with the progress of sculpture.
Since the death of his illustrious contemporary, Thorwaldsen, born at
Copenhagen, 1771-2, has occupied the public eye as head of the modern
school. The character and powers of this master are doubtless of a very
elevated rank; but neither in the extent nor excellence of his works,
do we apprehend his station to be so high as sometimes placed. The
genius of the Danish sculptor is forcible, yet is its energy derived
more from peculiarity than from real excellence. His ideal springs less
from imitation of the antique, or of nature, than from the workings of
his own individual mind--it is the creation of a fancy seeking forcible
effect in singular combinations, rather than in general principles;
therefore hardly fitted to excite lasting or beneficial influence upon
the age. Simplicity and imposing expression seem to have hitherto
formed the principal objects of his pursuit; but the distinction
between the simple and rude, the powerful and the exaggerated, is not
always observed in the labours of the Dane. His simplicity is sometimes
without grace; the impressive--austere, and without due refinement. The
air and contours of his heads, except, as in the Mercury--an excellent
example both of the beauties and defects of the artist's style--when
immediately derived from antiquity, though grand and vigorous, seldom
harmonize in the principles of these efforts with the majestic
regularity of general nature. The forms, again, are not unfrequently
poor, without vigorous rendering of the parts, and destitute at times
of their just roundness. These defects may in some measure have arisen
from the early and more frequent practice of the artist in relievos.
In this department, Thorwaldsen is unexceptionably to be admired.
The Triumph of Alexander, originally intended for the frieze of the
government palace at Milan, notwithstanding an occasional poverty
in the materials of thought, is, as a whole, one of the grandest
compositions in the world; while the delicacy of execution, and poetic
feeling, in the two exquisite pieces of Night and Aurora, leave
scarcely a wish here ungratified. But in statues, Thorwaldsen excels
only where the forms and sentiment admit of uncontrolled imagination,
or in which no immediate recourse can be had to fixed standards of
taste, and to the simple effects of nature. Hence, of all his works,
as admitting of unconfined expression, and grand peculiarity of
composition, the statues of the Apostles, considered in themselves, are
the most excellent. Thorwaldsen, in fine, possesses singular, but in
some respects erratic genius. His ideas of composition are irregular;
his powers of fancy surpass those of execution; his conceptions seem to
lose a portion of their value and freshness in the act of realisement.
As an individual artist, he will command deservedly a high rank among
the names that shall go down to posterity. As a sculptor, who will
influence, or has extended the principles of the art, his pretensions
are not great; or, should this influence and these claims not be thus
limited, the standard of genuine and universal excellence must be
depreciated in a like degree.
We have hitherto made little or no mention of British sculpture, for
two reasons. The number of ancient monuments of the art with which
the cathedrals of England, and Westminster Abbey in particular, are
ornamented, is considerable: yet very little is known regarding their
authors. There is reason to believe, however, that by far the greater
part are the work of foreigners, members of those confraternities
of itinerant artists, which have been noticed as existing in Italy
so early as the middle of the fourteenth century. This opinion is
corroborated by the circumstance, that the object in these societies
was to undertake buildings in whatever country, and for this purpose
were composed of architects, sculptors, workers in mosaic, builders,
designers, each strictly attending to his own department, except the
architect, who seems to have acted as the general overseer. Thus,
companies of individuals, more or less numerous, were engaged by the
proper ecclesiastical authorities, wherever a building of magnitude
was to be erected. Of this, the plan appears uniformly to have been
prescribed by the ecclesiastics, the foreign masters superintending
and availing themselves of local assistants for the mere workmanship.
Again, between the early productions of sculpture in England, when
these first attract notice by their excellence, we very decidedly trace
the style, and in some instances, as in the beautiful monuments of
Eleanor, queen of Edward I., the designs of the school of Pisa. About
this time, the very improvements introduced by Giovanni da Pisa, son of
Nicolo, especially in the drapery, are decidedly apparent in those and
other English works. Hence, although we find English names mentioned
as masters of the works in several of our most splendid erections,
and even in one instance as sculpturing the images of saints, it is
doubtful whether they were not the ecclesiastics directly employed by
the chapter to communicate their plans to the actual artificers. But
it must also be observed, that the natural consequence of introducing
foreign art would be to create native artists. There can be little
doubt, therefore, that many of the really fine monuments of our Henrys
and Edwards, during the fifteenth century, are the works of home-bred
talent. During the sixteenth century, again, we do certainly know
that two Italian sculptors, Cavallini, and especially the celebrated
Torregiano, were in England, when the latter erected the monument in
Henry VII.'s chapel, for which he received so large a sum as a thousand
pounds. Henry VIII., again, had for his master of works an Italian
sculptor, John of Padua, scholar of Michael Angelo. In 1615, we at
length find a work erected by an Englishman, the monument of the 'good
Thomas Sutton,' by Nicholas Stone; and, towards the conclusion of
the same era, lived Francis Bird, a native of London, whose labours,
however, only show the miserable state of art. Sculpture has never been
practised as a separate branch in the early history of Scotland, who
appears to have obtained her masters rather from France than Italy. In
both countries, our first historians have been most culpably remiss in
attention to the progress of native art. On the present occasion, to
attempt a detailed account of the scattered notices they have left us,
or, what might prove still more satisfactory, an examination of the
rich remains we possess, would be irrelevant, as we touch merely upon
the general history of the arts, in which our own isolated labours,
even at best, form only an episode.
Not till towards the conclusion of the last century can there properly
be said to have existed a school of British sculpture. Cibber,
Roubilac, Scheemakers, Carlini, Locatelli, Rysbrack--all the sculptors
who flourished in England during the greater part of the eighteenth
century, were foreigners. It is well that the fame of our good and our
brave finds a memorial in the records of history, and in the breasts
of their countrymen, more worthy of their virtues than these men have
often erected, in the noblest, too, of our temples. Now, British worth
can be commemorated by British art. Our native school of Sculpture may
be considered as commencing with Banks, born in 1738, died in 1805;
for Wilton, as an artist, was educated abroad. In power of modelling
few have excelled Banks, whose name merits eulogium, and is mentioned
by foreign writers as among the very few at Rome, who, previous to
the appearance of Canova, presented in their works the dawnings of
reviving art. Bacon, born in 1740, was in every respect an English
artist, and we may almost say self-taught. In simplicity his works
have great merit; they are often wanting in feeling. Bacon was not
unacquainted with the literature of his art. Proctor and Deare died
too early for the arts, after they had given evidence of the highest
abilities. Deare has indeed left works, young as he was, not surpassed
by any in modern art. We approach our more immediate contemporaries
with respectful diffidence, and shall touch only upon the merits of
those who are removed from the effects of praise or censure. Nollekins
knew his _art_, but wanted _science_, dignity, and fancy. Flaxman
belongs to posterity, and has more widely extended the influence
of his genius--more intimately connected his labours with general
improvement, than any other English sculptor. Towards the propitious
revolution which rescued the arts from utter imbecility, in the latter
end of last century, he largely contributed, by his learned, powerful,
and simple style. From 1787 to 1794, he continued in Italy; and had
his sojourn been longer, he would have divided not unequal honors with
the great reformer of taste. This is known and acknowledged by the
intelligent critics of that country, of whom one of the most judicious,
Count Cicognara, thus writes:--'To Flaxman our obligations are very
great, since, as far as our acquaintance with his works extends, they
served nobly to elevate from a certain monotonous lethargy, and to
create afresh, that taste for the severe and golden style of antiquity,
which he applied to his own inventions.' From his youth, Flaxman was
distinguished by the strength of his genius, by devotion to the study
of the ancient models, and by fearless but judicious disregard of those
conventional affectations by which art was disgraced. He was among
the first, if not the earliest, to awaken the long dormant energies
of sculpture, to unite anew art with nature. The simple and the grand
of antiquity he made his own; nor, since the best ages of Greece,
do we anywhere find, in the works mentioned in these pages, greater
meaning, more deep feeling of truth, with less pomp of art, than in the
sculpture of Flaxman. The wonderful designs from Homer, the statues of
Mr Pitt and Sir Joshua Reynolds, the monuments of Montague, Howe, and
Nelson, the group of Michael and Satan, will alone fully justify this
character. If, in the works of this master, a defect may be pointed
out, it is an excess of the severe and simple, which nearly approaches
to harshness. Surpassing both Canova and Thorwaldsen in the loftiness
of his conceptions, and perhaps in classic purity of taste, in the
graces of composition, and the facilities of modelling, he is inferior
to the former. But in all that constitutes the epic of the art, Flaxman
is not surpassed.
We must omit with regret, though not unadmired, the names of living
English artists. To their honor be it remarked, that, at this
moment, in rectitude and sobriety of precept, in the walk which has
hitherto been followed, where nothing is yet to be unlearned, and
which must infallibly conduct to higher perfection, no school in
Europe can boast of happier auspices, of more vigorous practice,
nor of sounder principles, than the British school of Sculpture.
In Italy, the numerous--we may say universal--imitators of Canova,
appear to be following, with exaggerated effect, the only failing
towards which his style inclines--elaborate grace. In Germany, the art
languishes for want of encouragement. Sculpture is more pre-eminently
the nursling of freedom. The French sculptors are, at the present
time, more distinguished for science than for feeling or invention.
They want individuality of character in their works; the symmetry
and proportions, the mechanical art of antiquity, their chisel has
transferred,--but the sentiment, the essence which unites art with
nature, which breathes into Grecian statuary the breath of life, has
escaped. It is a singular fact, that from the school formed under the
empire, while the most valued treasures of existing art were collected
in the French capital, not a sculptor, hardly one artist of eminence,
has issued. The cause is plain. These monuments were torn from their
resting places by the hand of violence; they were viewed by a vain
and mistaken people as the trophies of victory; but they were never
venerated with that enthusiastic yet humble devotion, with which the
disciple regards the sources of knowledge. During a shorter period, how
different have been the effects of our own unsullied and bloodless
collection. Since the public exposition of the Phidian Marbles, in
particular, every department of taste has been improved, and every
artist has been ready to exclaim, with the late venerable president,
that till he saw these works, he was ignorant how much of his art he
had yet to learn. Let the British sculptor, then, continue in the same
principles as have heretofore guided his practice; let him follow
nature, and these the noblest remains of art in existence, and he
must excel. Sculpture seems especially calculated to flourish amongst
us. The grave and manly character of the art agrees with the tone of
national genius, harmonizes with our free institutions, and may find in
our history sources of the brightest inspiration.
THE FINE ARTS.
PAINTING.