Mark Fisher is a nineteenth-century Morland; the disposition of mind
and character of vision seem the same in both painters, the outlook
almost identical: the same affectionate interest in humble life, the
same power of apprehending the pathos of work, the same sympathy for
the life that thinks not. But beyond these qualities of mind common to
both painters, Morland possessed a sense of beauty and grace which is
absent in Mark Fisher. Morland's pig-styes are more beautifully seen
than Mark Fisher could see them. But is the sense of beauty, which was
most certainly Morland's, so inherent and independent a possession
that we must regard it as his rather than the common inheritance of
those who lived in his time? Surely Mark Fisher would have seen more
beautifully if he had lived in the eighteenth century? Or, to put the
case more clearly, surely Morland would have seen very much as Mark
Fisher sees if he had lived in the nineteenth? Think of the work done
by Morland in the field and farmyard--it is in that work that he
lives; compare it with Mark Fisher's, subtracting, of course, all that
Morland owed to his time, quality of paint, and a certain easy sense
of beauty, and say if you can that both men do not stand on the same
intellectual plane.
To tell the story of the life of the fields, and to tell it sincerely,
without false sentiment, was their desire; nor do we detect in either
Morland or Mark Fisher any pretence of seeing more in their subjects
than is natural for them to see: in Jacques, yes. Jacques tried to
think profoundly, like Millet; Mark Fisher does not; nor was Morland
influenced by the caustic mind of Hogarth to satirise the animalism of
the boors he painted. He saw rural life with the same kindly eyes as
Mark Fisher. The difference between the two men is a difference of
means, of expression--I mean the exterior envelope in which the work
of the mind lives, and which preserves and assures a long life to the
painter. On this point no comparison is possible between the
eighteenth and nineteenth century painter. We should seek in vain in
Mark Fisher for Morland's beautiful smooth painting, for his fluent
and easy drawing, the complete and easy vehicle of his vision of
things. Mark Fisher draws well, but he often draws awkwardly; he
possesses the sentiment of proportion and the instinct of anatomy; we
admire the sincerity and we recognise the truth, but we miss the charm
of that easy and perfect expression which was current in Morland's
time. Mark Fisher is a man who has something to say and who says it in
a somewhat barbarous manner. He dreams hardly at all, his thoughts are
ordinary, and are only saved from commonplace by his absence of
affectation. He is not without sentiment, but his sentiment is a
little plain. His hand is his worst enemy; the touch is seldom
interesting or beautiful.
I said that Morland saw nature with the same kindly eyes as Mark
Fisher. I would have another word on that point. Mark Fisher's
painting is optimistic. His skies are blue, his sunlight dozes in the
orchard, his chestnut trees are in bloom. The melodrama of nature
never appears in his pictures; his lanes and fields reflect a gentle
mind that has found happiness in observing the changes of the seasons.
Happy Mark Fisher! An admirable painter, the best, the only
landscape-painter of our time; the one who continues the tradition of
Potter and Morland, and lives for his art, uninfluenced by the clamour
of cliques.