The methods of _Warkworth Castle_ were practically those use

THE DEVELOPMENT

OF BRITISH LANDSCAPE

PAINTING

IN WATER-COLOURS

EDITED BY CHARLES

HOLME. TEXT BY

ALEXANDER J.

FINBERG & E. A.

TAYLOR

MCMXVIII “THE STUDIO” LTD.

LONDON PARIS NEW YORK

CONTENTS

ARTICLES

PAGE

THE DEVELOPMENT OF BRITISH LANDSCAPE PAINTING IN WATER-COLOURS.

BY ALEXANDER J. FINBERG 1

(1) Introductory Remarks on the Idea of Development as

Applied to Art 1

(2) The Bearing of these Remarks on the History of British

Water-Colour Painting 3

(3) The Development of Subject-Matter and Technique 4

(4) Some Famous Water-Colour Painters of the Past 8

Paul Sandby 9

Alexander Cozens 10

John Robert Cozens 11

Thomas Girtin 13

Joseph Mallord William Turner 15

John Sell Cotman 17

David Cox 19

Samuel Prout 20

Peter de Wint 21

Richard Parkes Bonington 21

Myles Birket Foster 22

Alfred William Hunt 23

James Abbott McNeill Whistler 24

(5) The Work of To-day 26

THE DEVELOPMENT OF BRITISH LANDSCAPE PAINTING IN WATER-COLOURS:

SCOTTISH PAINTERS. BY E. A. TAYLOR 29

ILLUSTRATIONS

_AFTER ENGLISH PAINTERS_

_PLATE_

Birch, S. J. Lamorna, R.W.S. “Environs of Camborne” V

Cotman, John Sell, R.W.S. “Kirkham Abbey” III

Cozens, J. R. “Lake Albano and Castel Gandolfo” I

Fisher, Mark, A.R.A. “Landscape” VI

Gere, Charles M. “The Round House” VII

Girtin, Thomas. “The Valley of the Aire” II

Goodwin, Albert, R.W.S. “Lincoln” VIII

Holmes, C. J. “Near Aisgill” IX

Little, Robert, R.W.S., R.S.W. “Tidal Basin, Montrose” X

Rich, Alfred W. “Swaledale” XI

Smythe, Lionel, R.A., R.W.S. “Caught in the Frozen

Palms of Spring” XII

Turner, J. M. W., R.A. “Launceston” IV

Walker, W. Eyre, R.W.S. “A Pool in the Woods” XIII

Waterlow, Sir E. A., R.A., R.W.S., H.R.S.W. “In

Crowhurst Park, Sussex” XIV

_AFTER SCOTTISH PAINTERS_

Allan, Robert W. Allan, R.W.S., R.S.W. “The Maple

in Autumn” XV

Brown, A. K., R.S.A., R.S.W. “Ben More” XVI

Cadenhead, James, A.R.S.A., R.S.W. “A Moorland” XVII

Cameron, D. Y., A.R.A., R.S.A., R.W.S., R.S.W.

“Autumn in Strath Tay” XVIII

Flint, W. Russell, R.W.S., R.S.W. “Autumn Evening,

Rydal Water” XIX

Houston, George, A.R.S.A., R.S.W. “Iona” XX

Paterson, James, R.S.A., R.W.S., R.S.W. “Frenchland

to Queensberry, Moffat Dale” XXI

Smith, D. Murray, A.R.W.S. “On the Way to the

South Downs” XXII

Taylor, E. A. “A Bit of High Corrie” XXIII

Walton, E. A., R.S.A., P.R.S.W. “Suffolk Pastures” XXIV

PREFATORY NOTE

_The Editor desires to acknowledge his indebtedness to the artists

and owners who have kindly lent their drawings for reproduction in

this volume_

THE DEVELOPMENT OF BRITISH LANDSCAPE PAINTING IN WATER-COLOURS. BY

ALEXANDER J. FINBERG

(1) INTRODUCTORY REMARKS ON THE IDEA OF DEVELOPMENT AS APPLIED TO ART

The idea of development has played, for considerably more than half a

century, and still plays, a large part in all discussions about art. And

it is obvious that it is a very useful and at the same time a very

dangerous idea; useful, because with its aid you can prove anything you

have a mind to, and dangerous, because it conceals all sorts of latent

suggestions, vague presuppositions, and lurking misconceptions, and thus

misleads and beguiles the unwary. The most insidious and dangerous of

these suggestions is its connexion with the ideas of progress or

advance. The dictionaries, indeed, give “progress” as one of the

synonyms of “development,” and amongst the synonyms of “progress” I find

“advance,” “attainment,” “growth,” “improvement,” and “proficiency.” So

that as soon as we begin to connect the idea of development with the

history of art we find ourselves committed, before we quite realize what

we are doing, to the view that the latest productions of art are

necessarily the best. If art develops, it necessarily grows, improves,

and advances, and the history of art becomes a record of the steps by

which primitive work has passed into the fully developed art of the

present; the latest productions being evidently the most valuable,

because they sum up in their triumphant complexity all the tentative

variations and advances of which time and experience have approved.

Stated thus baldly the idea as applied to art seems perhaps too

obviously at variance with our tastes, experience, and instinctive

standards of artistic values to be worth a moment’s consideration. Yet

we are all too well aware that this is the line of argument by which

every freak, every eccentric, insane or immoral manifestation of

artistic perversity and incompetence which has appeared in Europe within

the last thirty or forty years has been commended and justified.

Certainly in England every writer on art who calls himself “advanced” is

an evolutionist of this crude and uncritical type. At one time it was

Cézanne and Van Gogh who were supposed to have summed up in their

triumphant complexity the less developed efforts of Titian, Rembrandt,

Watteau, and Turner, and at the present moment Cézanne and Van Gogh are

being superseded by Mr. Roger Fry and his young lions of “The New

Movement.”

The worst of it is that the idea of development, of evolution, is a

perfectly sound and useful one in certain spheres of activity. In

science, for instance, the idea works and is helpful. The successive

modifications and improvements by which the latest type of steam-engine

has been evolved from Stevenson’s “Puffing Billy,” or the latest type of

air-ship from the Montgolfier balloon, form a series of steps which are

related and connected with each other, and they are so intimately

connected that the latest step sums up and supersedes all the others. No

one would travel with Stevenson’s engine who could employ a British or

American engine of the latest type. There we have a definite system of

development--of growth, improvement, and increased proficiency. And we

find the same thing if we look at science as a whole, as a body of

knowledge of a special kind. Its problems are tied together,

subordinated and co-ordinated, unified in one vast system, so that we

can represent its history as a single line of progress or retreat.

But art is not like science. Donatello’s sculpture is not a growth from

the sculpture of Pheidias or Praxiteles in the same way that the London

and North-Western engine is a growth from Stevenson’s model; nor was

Raphael’s work developed from Giotto’s in the same way. Works of art are

separate and independent things. That is why Donatello has not

superseded Pheidias, nor Raphael Giotto; and that is why the world

cherishes the earliest works of art quite as much as the later ones.

Yet we are bound to admit that we can find traces of an evolutionary

process even in the history of art, if we look diligently for them. I

remember to have seen a book by a well-known Italian critic in which the

representations of the Madonna are exhibited from this point of view (A.

Venturi, “La Madonna,” Milan, 1899). In it the pictures of the Madonna

are treated as an organism which gradually develops, attains perfection,

gets old, and dies. There is something to be said for this point of

view. When you have a number of artists successively treating the same

subject you naturally find that alterations and fresh ideas are imported

into their work. These additions and modifications can quite fairly be

regarded as developments of the subject-matter and its treatment. But

such developments are always partial and one-sided, and they are

accompanied with losses of another kind. If Raphael’s Madonnas are more

correctly drawn and modelled than those of Giotto, these gains are

balanced by a corresponding loss in the spiritual qualities of sincerity

and earnestness of religious conviction. It depends, therefore, on what

narrow and strictly defined point of view we adopt whether we find

development or decay in any particular series of artistic productions.

From one point of view the history of art from Giotto to Raphael can be

regarded as a process of growth and advance, from another, the same

series can be taken, as Ruskin actually took it, as an exhibition of the

processes of death and decay. The enlightened lover and student of art

will look at the matter from both, and other, points of view, but he

will realize that the theory of development does not help him in any way

to find a standard of value for works of art.

Art must be judged by its own standards, and those standards tell us

[Illustration: PLATE I.

(_In the possession of C. Morland Agnew, Esq._)

“LAKE ALBANO AND CASTEL GANDOLFO.” BY J. R. COZENS.]

that each individual masterpiece is perfect in its own marvellous way,

whether it was produced like the _Cheik el Beled_ or _The Scribe_, some

five or six thousand years ago, or like the paintings of Reynolds,

Gainsborough, and Turner within comparatively recent times.

(2) THE BEARING OF THESE REMARKS ON THE HISTORY OF BRITISH WATER-COLOUR

PAINTING

The direct bearing of these remarks on our immediate subject-matter

will, I hope, be evident to all who are familiar with the literature of

the history of British water-colour painting.

The first attempt to form an historical series of British water-colours

for the public use was begun in 1857, by Samuel Redgrave for the Science

and Art Department of what was then the Board of Education. Thanks to

Redgrave’s knowledge and enthusiasm a worthy collection of examples of

the works of the founders of the school was soon got together, and this

nucleus was rapidly enlarged by purchases, gifts, and bequests. These

drawings were housed and exhibited in what was then called the South

Kensington Museum, and in 1877 Redgrave published an admirable

“Descriptive Catalogue” of the collection. As an introduction to this

catalogue he wrote a valuable account of the origin and historical

development of the art. Both the official character of this publication

as well as its intrinsic merits, literary and historical--for Redgrave

and his brother Richard, who had assisted him in the work, were two of

the best informed historians of English art in the last

century--combined to make it at the time and for many years afterwards

the standard and most authoritative book on this subject. But its

historical part has one serious defect, due perhaps to some extent to

the unfortunate association of science with art in the same museum.

Redgrave’s conception of artistic development was evidently borrowed

ready-made from the ideas of his scientific colleagues. He treats the

chronological arrangement of the drawings in exactly the same way as the

men of science treat the successive alterations and improvements which

Stevenson’s first model steam-engine underwent; and as he found the

earlier drawings approached very nearly to monochrome, while the later

ones were highly coloured and fuller in the statement and realization of

detail, he took it for granted that these changes marked the true line

of progress and development in the art. The early “stained” drawings of

Scott and Rooker were treated as the primitive and undeveloped models

from which the later and more elaborate works of Turner, Copley

Fielding, Sidney Cooper, John F. Lewis, Louis Haghe, and Carl Werner

were developed. Every fresh complication of technique and elaboration of

effect were hailed enthusiastically as signs of “progress,” and

brilliance of colour, richness of effect, and fullness of realization

were treated as the marks of “the full perfection” of which the art was

capable. In this way water-colour “drawing” became “elevated” into the

“perfected” art of _painting_ in water-colours, and the beneficent

cosmic process triumphantly produced paintings in water-colour which

could actually “hold their own” in force and brilliancy of effect with

oil paintings.

As a temporary measure Redgrave’s excursus into evolutionary theory must

have been extraordinarily successful. No more specious doctrine could

well have been invented to flatter and gratify all parties concerned at

the moment; the presidents and leading members of the two water-colour

societies must have found peace and comfort in Redgrave’s theory, and

the general public must have felt that “enlightenment and progress” even

in artistic matters were being duly fostered by an efficient “Committee

Council on Education.” But the theory has serious defects. It sets up a

false standard of artistic value, it withdraws attention from the higher

beauties of art to focus it upon merely materialistic and technical

questions, and, what is perhaps still more serious, it prejudges the

efforts of subsequent artists, and closes the door to future changes and

developments.

The importance of these latter considerations will be seen as soon as we

turn our attention to the art of the present day and that of the period

which has intervened between it and the date of the publication of

Redgrave’s catalogue. Consider for one moment the water-colours of

Whistler, Clausen, Wilson Steer, D. Y. Cameron, Anning Bell, Charles

Sims, A. W. Rich, Charles Gere, and Romilly Fedden, and judge them in

terms of Redgrave’s formula! If we do we are bound to confess that they

one and all stand condemned. If Redgrave’s idea of the line of progress

and advance is correct we are bound to believe that the works of these

fine artists represent, not progress and advance, but decay and loss.

Indeed, the two chief movements in art in the last quarter of the last

century, the discovery of atmosphere as the predominant factor in

pictorial representation--what may be called for the sake of brevity the

whole Impressionistic movement, and the later deliberate search for

simplicity of statement, either in the interests of decorative effect or

emotional expression, were seriously thwarted and hindered by the

demands for “exhibition finish,” so-called conscientious workmanship,

and a standard of professional technique--“real painting, as such,” as

Ruskin called it--set up and maintained by the erroneous theories of

artistic progress of which Redgrave was only one of the exponents.

It is therefore of the utmost importance that any attempt to deal fairly

and generously with the art of more recent times shall consciously and

deliberately dissociate itself from such theories.

(3) THE DEVELOPMENT OF SUBJECT-MATTER AND TECHNIQUE

After what has been written above it is to be hoped that the dangers

attending the use of the word “development” have been exorcised. We

intend to use the word merely as a synonym for chronological sequence,

and we have been careful to point out that the historical order in which

artists appear does not coincide or run parallel with any growth,

advance, progress, or improvement in the artistic value of their work.

Shorn thus of its stolen finery of theoretical prejudice and

philosophical imposture the naked course of chronological sequence

presents few attractions to the enthusiastic lover of the beautiful. It

has, however, its uses. These are mainly mnemonical, for it supplies the

thread on which we string together in our memory the things strewn along

the schedule of the years without apparent rhyme or reason. The dates

will not help us to pick out the good from the bad, but they help us to

place among their proper surroundings the good things which our

sympathies and instincts find for us.

With this grudging apostrophe to the historical maid-of-all-work we will

proceed with our survey of the brief tale of years during which our

national school of water-colour painting has been in existence. The

business of this chapter is to outline the development of form and

content, of subject-matter and technique.

For the beginnings of British landscape painting we must look to the

drawings and engravings connected with the study of topography, using

this word in the ordinary sense of place-drawing, or the description of

a particular building or spot. Generally speaking the designs of the

earlier draughtsmen are now known only through the engravings which were

made from them. Roget, in his “History of the Old Water-Colour Society”

(chapters i and iii, Book I) gives a full and interesting account of

these engravings. The earliest drawings we need refer to are those of

Samuel Scott (1710-1772) and his pupil, William Marlow (1740-1813), Paul

Sandby (1725-1809), William Pars (1742-1782), Michael Angelo Rooker

(1743-1801), and Thomas Hearne (1744-1817).

Working alongside these artists was another group of men who produced

“landscapes” which relied for their interest rather upon the sentiments

evoked by their subject-matter and treatment than upon the purely

topographical character of their work. These painters of poetical or

sentimental landscape may be said to have begun with George Lambert

(1710?-1765), Richard Wilson (1713-1782), and Thomas Gainsborough

(1727-1788). Of these only the latter used water-colour as an

independent medium. His _Landscape with Waggon on a Road through a Wood_

(British Museum) reminds one somewhat of the landscape studies of Rubens

and Van Dyck, at least as regards the colour-effect and the feeling for

atmosphere. Through Gainsborough the influence of Rubens and that of the

Flemish conception of landscape painting was brought to bear on British

art, while Lambert and Richard Wilson familiarized the younger artists

and their patrons with the style and aims of Poussin and Claude. The

same influences are discernible in the works of Alexander Cozens (d.

1786) and his son, John Robert Cozens (1752-1799), both of whom worked

almost entirely in water-colour.

The works of these painters of poetical landscape taught the public to

demand something more emotional in feeling and more dignified and

impressive in treatment than the prosaic transcripts and conventionally

composed drawings of the topographers. Their example also taught the

rising generation of artists, amongst whom we find Edward Dayes

(1763-1804), John Glover (1767-1849), Joshua Cristall (1767?-1847), F.

L. T. Francia (1772-1839), Thomas Girtin (1775-1802), J. M. W. Turner

(1775-1851), John Constable (1776-1837), and John Sell Cotman

(1782-1842), how to meet those demands.

In Turner’s _Warkworth Castle_ (V. and A. Museum), exhibited in 1799,

and Girtin’s _Bridgnorth_ (British Museum), painted in 1802, we find

these two streams of influence uniting. These drawings are at the same

time both topographical and poetical; each represents a particular place

with a good deal of accuracy, but in such a way that the drawing might

just as correctly be called a poetical landscape as a topographical

representation.

This combination of fact with emotion, of representation with poetry,

has remained during the whole of the nineteenth century and down to the

present day the dominant characteristic of British landscape painting.

Sometimes the topographical factor was subdued or almost submerged, as

in the water-colours of George Barret, junr. (1767-1842) and Francis

Oliver Finch (1802-1862), but it is generally predominant, though always

in combination with emotional or poetical expression, in the works of

William Havell (1782-1857), David Cox (1783-1859), Peter De Wint

(1784-1849), Copley Fielding (1787-1855), G. F. Robson (1788-1833),

Samuel Prout (1783-1852), William Hunt (1790-1864), Clarkson Stanfield

(1793-1867), David Roberts (1796-1864), J. D. Harding (1797 or 8-1863),

R. P. Bonington (1802-1828), T. Shotter Boys (1803-1874), J. Scarlett

Davis (1804?-1844), J. F. Lewis (1805-1876), W. J. Muller (1812-1845),

William Callow (1812-1908), Birket Foster (1825-1899), A. W. Hunt

(1830-1896), E. M. Wimperis (1835-1900), Tom Collier (1840-1891), and J.

Buxton Knight (1842-1908).

The course of development of the subject-matter of British landscape

painting in water-colour we may, therefore, say has been somewhat as

follows: it started with the object of recording as clearly and

accurately as was possible the appearance of buildings and places, and

it did this, not for purely artistic reasons, but in the interests of

antiquarian, archæological, historical, or geographical information; by

the side of this place-recording activity there sprang up a series of

painters who aimed at the production of landscapes as the means of

artistic and emotional expression; we then find these two groups acting

on each other, the poetical school teaching the topographers style,

design, “atmosphere,” and emotion, and the topographers directing the

attention of the poetical painters to the observation and study of

nature and the expression of

[Illustration: PLATE II.

(_In the possession of Thomas Girtin, Esq._)

“THE VALLEY OF THE AIRE.” BY THOMAS GIRTIN.]

their own personal emotions; and the outcome of this process is the

present school of British landscape painters in water-colours, which

attempts, both in its highest and in its lowest efforts, to do full

justice to the progressive demands which the educated public has thus

learned to make on the artist.

We turn now to the development of technique. The earliest topographers

worked on white paper, on which, after the subject had been outlined in

pencil--such outlines being sometimes enforced with pen and ink, the

general system of light and shade was washed in monochrome; the local

colours were then washed over this preparation. The method, so far as

the colours were concerned, was somewhat similar to that of tinting or

colouring an engraving. In drawings executed in this manner by Sandby,

Rooker, and Hearne the brilliance of the colours is somewhat subdued by

the grey underpainting. But this is probably due to the fact that the

artists worked only with their washes of transparent colour, relying

upon the white paper asserting itself through these washes. The luminous

effects produced in this way--in drawings like Sandby’s _Windsor: East

View from Crown Corner_ (British Museum) and Rooker’s _St. Botolph’s_

(V. and A. Museum)--have been so much admired that many living artists

have deliberately gone back to this simple way of working.

The effect of the grey underpainting on the finished work is, however,

largely dependent on the artist’s wishes. If he chooses to sacrifice the

luminosity of the white paper he can paint over his preliminary washes

with colour so heavily charged that it will practically annihilate them.

This is what Girtin generally did in his later works, though it must be

added that he also changed the colour of his preparatory washes from

grey to brown. I am inclined to think, therefore, that Redgrave has

exaggerated the importance of the use or disuse of these preliminary

washes.

The earlier poetical painters, like Lambert, and Sandby in his larger

compositions painted for exhibition purposes, worked in body-colour,

i.e., opaque white was mixed with all the colours. In this way some

approximation to the force of oil painting was obtained. Another way of

getting a similar result was to work with the paper wet. A good example

of this method is Turner’s _Warkworth Castle_. In this picture Turner

tries to do in water-colour what Richard Wilson did in oils. He gets his

effects of deep rich tone and force of colour by working with a heavily

charged brush, sponging, and wiping out the lights with a dry brush or

handkerchief or scraping them with a knife.

The methods of _Warkworth Castle_ were practically those used by the

younger Barret, Varley, Copley Fielding, Cox, and De Wint, but after

about 1830 we find opaque white coming into general use, at first merely

to give increased force to the high lights, but later it was mixed

freely with all the transparent colours, and toned or tinted paper was

used to give greater brilliance to the body-colour. John F. Lewis worked

in this way, but the hardness and glitter to which it so easily conduced

led to its abandonment by the later artists who set themselves to render

the delicate gradations of the atmosphere. Yet one must admit that in

the hands of a master technician like Turner all the unpleasant

qualities so often apparent in body-colour work can be avoided, as the

_Rivers of France_ drawings prove. At the present time some artists, who

aim especially at force and brilliance of colour, prefer to work in

tempera, but it is doubtful whether this medium can rightly be regarded

as a form of water-colour painting.

On the whole we may say that the technique of water-colour has changed

very little during the last two centuries. The chief change has perhaps

been connected with the introduction, about 1830, of moist colours put

up in metal tubes, a great convenience to artists in search of bold

effects without the expenditure of much time or trouble. But even this

has proved a doubtful advantage, and many artists have now gone back to

the use of hard cakes of colour, similar to those with which the earlier

men obtained their delicate and luminous results.

(4) SOME FAMOUS WATER-COLOUR PAINTERS OF THE PAST

In the previous section we have deliberately refrained from saying

anything about the purely artistic qualities of the works we have

referred to. This is because we have been engaged in a strictly

historical survey, and to the eye of history there is no difference

between the works of a great artist and those of a bungler. Both are

equally patent and indubitable facts. It is the business of criticism to

appraise the artistic beauty of works of art. And if in our historical

survey we have kept our attention fixed generally on the works of the

greater men, this is more the result of accident than design. Art

criticism has already sifted much of the good from the bad in the work

of the past, and it is more convenient, in a general survey of this

kind, to deal with what is best known and valued. But because history

can thus take advantage of what art criticism has done, that is no

reason why we should confuse the two processes, and it cannot be

repeated too often that historical importance or interest has nothing

whatever to do with artistic value.

The aim of this section is to make good the defects of historical study,

so far, at least, as the limited space at our disposal will permit. With

this object in view we have selected a baker’s dozen of the more famous

artists of the past, and we will endeavour to indicate some of the

qualities which make their works a joy and delight to those who have the

privilege of knowing them. In each case we will supply, in tabloid form,

a certain amount of biographical information, as knowledge of the time

and place in which an artist works and the conditions under which he

produces helps us to understand what he has done; we shall also attempt

to point out the chief public galleries where each artist’s works

[Illustration: PLATE III.

(_In the possession of Messrs. J. Palser & Sons._)

“KIRKHAM ABBEY.” BY JOHN SELL COTMAN, R.W.S.]

can be seen (when happier times bring about the reopening of our museums

and art galleries), and the sources from which those who care for it can

obtain fuller information and more authoritative criticism than we

ourselves can supply. Such information as we can give will be as correct

as we can make it, but it will make no claim whatever to be exhaustive.

PAUL SANDBY

[Born at Nottingham, 1725; entered military drawing office of the Tower

of London, 1746; draughtsman to a survey of the Northern and Western

Highlands, 1748-1751, during which time he published some etchings of

Scottish views; worked at Windsor for some years from 1752, where his

brother, Thomas, was Deputy Ranger; chief drawing-master, Royal Military

Academy, Woolwich, 1768-1797; elected Director of the Society of

Artists, October 18, 1766; original member of Royal Academy, 1768;

introduced the aquatint method of engraving into England; published

first set of twelve aquatints of views in South Wales, 1774, a second

set of views in North Wales, 1776, and a third set in 1777; died 1809.

EXHIBITED: Society of Artists, 1760-’68; Royal Academy, 1769-’77,

’79-’82, ’86-’88, ’90-’95, ’97-1802, ’06-’09; Free Society, 1782,

’83.

WORKS IN PUBLIC GALLERIES: National Gallery; V. and A. Museum

(Water-Colours); British Museum; National Gallery of Ireland;

Greenwich Hospital; Diploma Gallery, R.A.; Manchester Whitworth

Institute; Norwich, Nottingham, Glasgow, etc., Art Galleries.

BIOGRAPHICAL AND CRITICAL SOURCES: “Thomas and Paul Sandby,” by

William Sandby, 1892; “D. N. B.”; Roget’s “History of the Old

Water-Colour Society,” 1891.

REPRODUCTIONS OF WORKS: “The Earlier English Water-Colour

Painters,” by Cosmo Monkhouse; “The English Water-Colour Painters,”

by A. J. Finberg; “Early English Water-Colour,” by C. E. Hughes;

“Water-Colour,” by the Hon. Neville Lytton; “Water-Colour

Painting,” by A. W. Rich; “The Royal Academy” (THE STUDIO Summer

Number, 1904); THE STUDIO, Jan. 1918.]

Sandby was one of the most prolific of the earlier topographical

artists. His numberless drawings and the engravings he made from them

did more than any one man had done before to familiarize Englishmen with

the beauties of their native land. He was an indefatigable traveller,

and he was the first artist to discover the artistic beauties of Wales.

He worked both in transparent colour and in gouache. His drawings in the

latter medium, of which there are several in the V. and A. Museum, are

distinctly inferior to his works in pure colour. They are scenic and

conventional in design, feeble and pretentious in execution. His

drawings in transparent colour, however, are delightfully fresh and

vigorous; luminous in effect, and filled with proofs of keen and genial

observation. They seem full of air and light, vivid human interest, and

in their treatment of architecture and of all natural features they are

at once careful, accurate and lucid without ever showing signs of labour

or fatigue. In the abundance of his work and its variety Sandby

approached nearer to Turner than any other artist. But he had not

Turner’s subtlety of eye and hand, nor his exquisite sense of artistic

form. His landscapes are well composed, but on conventional lines, and

the whole material is never welded together into an original and

impeccable design, as with Turner, Cozens, and Cotman.

Sandby’s Welsh aquatints with their many daring effects of light form

the real forerunners of Turner’s “Liber Studiorum.” They display better

than any single drawing the width and range of the artist’s powers.

As an engraver and water-colour painter Paul Sandby is a genial and

inspiriting personality. He transformed topographical draughtsmanship

into something new and living, instinct with life and emotion. “And if

we may not call him a great artist, we may at least say that he was a

topographical draughtsman of genius.”

ALEXANDER COZENS

[Born in Russia, date unknown; son of Peter the Great and an

Englishwoman; sent by his father to study painting in Italy; said to

have come to England in 1746; drawing-master at Eton School, 1763-1768;

married a sister of Robert Edge Pine; elected Fellow of the Society of

Artists, 1765; died in Duke Street, Piccadilly, April 23, 1786.

EXHIBITED: Society of Artists, 1760, ’63, ’65-’71; Free Society,

1761, ’62; Royal Academy, 1772, ’73, ’75, ’77-’79, ’81.

WORKS IN PUBLIC GALLERIES: V. and A. Museum (Water-Colours);

British Museum; Manchester Whitworth Institute.

BIOGRAPHICAL AND CRITICAL SOURCES: Leslie’s “Handbook for Young

Painters”; Redgrave’s “Dictionary”; “Reminiscences of Henry

Angelo,” vol. i, 212-216; “D. N. B.”

REPRODUCTIONS: THE STUDIO, Feb. 1917; Finberg’s “English

Water-Colour Painters.”]

The date when Alexander Cozens came to England is given above as 1746.

This is what we find in all the reference books, and it is founded on a

memorandum pasted in a book of drawings made by the artist in Italy

which is now in the British Museum. This memorandum states that

“Alexander Cozens, in London, author of these drawings, lost them, and

many more, in Germany, by their dropping from his saddle, when he was

riding on his way from Rome to England, in the year 1746. John Cozens,

his son, being at Florence in the year 1776, purchased them. When he

returned to London in the year 1779 he delivered the drawings to his

father.” Now either the date in this note is wrong or, what seems a more

probable explanation, Alexander Cozens’s journey to England in 1746 was

not the occasion of his first visit to this country, for there is an

engraved _View of the Royal College of Eton_, after a drawing made by

Cozens, which was published in 1742. It was engraved by John Pine, whose

daughter afterwards became Alexander Cozens’s wife. The existence of

this engraving, which has been noticed by none of the writers on

Cozens’s life, seems to point to the probability that the artist came to

England at least four years earlier than has been supposed. It also

shows how little we know about Cozens’s early life, and it suggests a

certain amount of scepticism about the constantly repeated statements on

this subject which rest, apparently, either on dubious authority or on

authority which has not or cannot be verified.

Alexander Cozens’s work attracted little attention in modern times until

the late Mr. Herbert Home perceived its beauties. Public attention was

first drawn to it by the “Historical Collection of British

Water-Colours” organized by the Walpole Society in the Loan Exhibition

held at the Grafton Galleries at the end of 1911, which included five

beautiful drawings by Cozens. This was followed, in 1916, by an

exhibition of Mr. Home’s collection of drawings with special reference

to the works of Alexander Cozens, held by the Burlington Fine Arts Club.

To the catalogue of this exhibition Mr. Laurence Binyon contributed a

valuable article on “Alexander Cozens and his Influence on English

Painting.” In this article Mr. Binyon does justice to Cozen’s

originality of design and to the emotional power of his drawings. “In

his freest vein he uses his brush with a loose impetuosity which reminds

one curiously of Chinese monochrome sketches--the kind of work beloved

by those Chinese artists who valued spontaneous freshness and personal

expressiveness above all else in landscape.” “It was indeed,” Mr. Binyon

adds, “the naked elements” (of landscape structure) “rather than the

superficial aspects of a scene which appealed to his imagination; and in

nature it was the solitary and the spacious rather than the agreeably

picturesque which evoked his deepest feelings.”

Alexander Cozens used colour sparingly and seldom. His best drawings are

either in bistre or in indian ink, and he was fond of working on

stained, or perhaps oiled, paper (which was formerly used for tracing).

Such paper has doubtless acquired a darker tone with age, and it adds to

the “sombreness” of which contemporaries complained in his drawings.

JOHN ROBERT COZENS

[Son of Alexander Cozens, born 1752; made sketching tour in Switzerland

and Italy, with R. Payne Knight, 1776-1779; again visited Switzerland

and Italy, this time in company with William Beckford, 1782; became

insane, 1794; died, it is said, 1799.

EXHIBITED: Society of Artists, 1767-’71; Royal Academy, 1776.

WORKS IN PUBLIC GALLERIES: V. and A. Museum (Water-Colours);

British Museum; National Gallery of Ireland; Manchester Whitworth

Institute; Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge; Oldham Art Gallery

(Charles E. Lees’ Collection); Manchester Art Gallery (James Blair

Bequest).

BIOGRAPHICAL AND CRITICAL SOURCES: Edwards’s “Anecdotes”; Leslie’s

“Handbook”; Redgrave’s “Century” and “Dictionary”; “D. N. B.”

REPRODUCTIONS: Cosmo Monkhouse’s, Finberg’s, Hughes’s and Rich’s

works, already cited; THE STUDIO, Feb. 1917.]

It is really surprising that we know so little about this artist. During

his lifetime his works were much sought after, and he must have been

personally known to a number of distinguished people; both Payne Knight

and the eccentric millionaire, William Beckford, the author of “Vathek,”

and owner and rebuilder of Fonthill Abbey, with whom he travelled in

Italy and Switzerland, and who both possessed a large number of his

drawings, were voluminous writers, yet neither has deigned to tell us

anything of interest about the character, personality, or even outward

appearance of this very great artist. Both Beckford and Knight wrote

accounts of their travels, but one searches them in vain for a single

word that would prove that these highly intelligent men had the shadow

of a notion that the quiet and unobtrusive young “draughtsman” in their

employ was one of the greatest artists their country had produced.

We do not know for certain where or when John Cozens was born nor when

he died. Roget says he “appears to have been born abroad when his parent

was giving lessons in Bath,” but he gives no authority for the

statement, and so far as I know it has not been verified. The best

evidence for the date of his birth seems to be Leslie’s statement that

he once saw a small pen-drawing on which was written, “Done by J.

Cozens, 1761, when nine years of age.” If the date is correct Cozens was

only fifteen when he began to exhibit at the Society of Artists.

Constable stated that Cozens died in 1796, but most of the authorities

give the date as 1799.

That the artist was modest and unobtrusive, like his drawings, we may

feel sure. As Leslie wrote, “So modest and unobtrusive are the beauties

of his drawings that you might pass them without notice, for the painter

himself never says ‘Look at this, or that,’ he trusts implicitly to your

own taste and feeling; and his works are full of half-concealed beauties

such as Nature herself shows but coyly, and these are often the most

fleeting appearances of light. Not that his style is without emphasis,

for then it would be insipid, which it never is, nor ever in the least

commonplace.”

Constable was one of the first to realize Cozens’s true greatness.

“Cozens,” he said, “is all poetry,” and on another occasion he rather

shocked Leslie by asserting that Cozens was “the greatest genius that

ever touched landscape.” Yet this assertion contains nothing but the

plain truth. Genius is the only word we can use to describe the intense

concentration of mind and feeling which inspires Cozens’s work. To the

analytic eye his drawings are baffling and bewildering in the extreme;

it is impossible to find a trace of cleverness or conscious artifice in

them. They make you feel that you are looking at the work of a

somnambulist or of one who has painted in a trance. They are, I believe,

the most incorporeal paintings which have been produced in the Western

world, for the paint and the execution seem to count for so little and

the personal inspiration for so much. The painter’s genius seems to

speak to you direct, and to impress and overawe you without the help of

any intermediary.

In this respect Cozens is quite different from Turner. Even when he

trusted most implicitly to his genius Turner was always the great

artist, the great colourist, the incomparable master of his technique

whatever medium he was working in. Beyond the sheer beauty of his simple

washes of transparent colour there is hardly a single technical or

executive merit in Cozens’s drawings that one can single out for praise

or even for notice. Their haunting beauty and incomparable power are

spiritual, not material. And as we can think of a spirit too pure and

fine to inhabit a gross body like our own, so Cozens seems to be a

genius too spiritual for form and colour and the palpable artifices of

representation. Certainly no English artist relied more serenely and

confidently on his genius, and subdued his art more absolutely to

spiritual purposes. And this is what I think Constable meant when he

called Cozens “the greatest genius that ever touched landscape”; he did

not say that he was the greatest artist.

As one of our illustrations we reproduce the drawing _Lake Albano and

Castel Gandolfo_ by Cozens (Plate I) in the collection of Mr. C. Morland

Agnew.

THOMAS GIRTIN

[Born in Southwark, 1775; apprenticed to Edward Dayes; first engravings

after his drawings published in “Copper Plate Magazine,” 1793; sketching

tours, in the Midlands (Lichfield, etc.), 1794, Kent and Sussex 1795,

Yorkshire and Scotland 1796, Devonshire 1797, Wales 1798, Yorkshire and

Scotland 1799; “Girtin’s Sketching Society” established, 1799; married,

1800; went to Paris, Nov. 1801, and returned to England, May 1802; his

_Eidometropolis_, or Great Panorama of London, exhibited at Spring

Gardens, August, 1802; died Nov. 9, 1802; engravings of his views of

Paris published shortly after his death.

EXHIBITED: Royal Academy, 1794, ’95, ’97-1801.

WORKS IN PUBLIC GALLERIES: V. and A. Museum (Water-Colours);

British Museum; National Galleries of Scotland and Ireland;

Manchester Whitworth Institute; Ashmolean and Fitzwilliam Museums;

Oldham Art Gallery (Charles E. Lees’ Collection).

BIOGRAPHICAL AND CRITICAL SOURCES: Edwards’s “Anecdotes”; Dayes’

“Professional Sketches”; Redgrave’s “Century” and “Dictionary”;

B.F.A. Club’s Catalogue, 1875; Roget’s “History”; Binyon’s “Life

and Works,” 1900; Walpole Society’s Vols. II. and V.

REPRODUCTIONS: Binyon’s “Life”; Monkhouse’s, Finberg’s, Hughes’s,

Lytton’s, and Rich’s works already cited; THE STUDIO (Centenary of

Thomas Girtin Number), Nov. 1902; THE STUDIO, May 1916; Walpole

Society’s Vols. II. and V.]

Compared with John Cozens’s work Girtin’s appears often self-conscious

and artificial. His drawings were admired by his contemporaries chiefly

on account of their style; references to the “sword-play” of his

pencil, the boldness and swiftness of his washes, constantly recur in

their eulogies of his work. Girtin was nearly always a stylist, and

often a mannerist. But his style, at its best, is so thoroughly in

keeping with the spirit of his work that it is difficult to separate the

two. His love of the sweeping lines of the open moorland and his passion

for height and space appeal irresistibly to our imagination, while the

broad simplicity of his vision, his restrained and truthful colour, and

his frank, bold, decisive handling seem the only adequate means by which

his inspiration could find clear and authoritative expression.

We must remember, too, that Girtin died at the age of twenty-seven. The

knowledge of his early and untimely death intensifies our admiration for

all he did; while the few supreme masterpieces of poetical landscape he

has left us, like the _Plinlimmon_, show clearly what our national art

lost by the tragedy of his early death.

Girtin seems to have mastered his art as Robert Louis Stevenson mastered

his, by “playing the sedulous ape” to the men he admired. There are now

in the British Museum copies he made after Antonio Canal, Piranesi,

Hearne, Marlow, and Morland. Of these masters Canal seems to have

impressed and taught him most. The spaciousness and breadth of effect of

all his topographical work are clearly the outcome of his admiration for

Canal’s drawings and paintings. The calligraphic quality of his line

work, what has been called the “sword-play” of his pencil, is also due

to the same influence.

His earlier drawings, made about 1792 and 1793, were, however, modelled

on the style of his master, Edward Dayes. The drawings he made after

James Moore’s sketches--of which several have been recently acquired by

the Ashmolean Museum--might easily be mistaken for Dayes’ work. They

only differ in being more accomplished and workmanlike than those which

his master made for the same patron, and in their deliberate avoidance

of the dark “repoussoir” of which Dayes was so fond in his

foregrounds--an avoidance which gives Girtin’s drawings a greater unity

and a more decorative effect than those of Dayes.

By about 1795 Girtin’s real style began to assert itself, in drawings

like those of Lichfield and Peterborough Cathedrals. From this time we

find him pouring forth an abundance of superb topographical subjects

instinct with style and ennobled with poetry and imagination--drawings

like _Rievaulx Abbey_ (1798), in the V. and A. Museum, _Carnarvon

Castle_, and _The Old Ouse Bridge, York_, both in the possession of his

great-grandson, Mr. Thomas Girtin. The noble studies for his Panorama of

London (made probably in 1801), his _Lindisfarne_ (?1797) and

_Bridgnorth_ (1802), are fortunately in the British Museum. The drawings

he made on his return from Paris, during the last sad months of his

fast-ebbing life--drawings like the _Porte St. Denis_--are amongst the

most superb of his splendid productions.

I will close these brief and inadequate remarks by copying out two

advertisements connected with Girtin’s “Panorama” which I believe have

not been printed or referred to by any one of the writers on his life

and work. The first appeared in “The Times” on August 27, 1802. It runs

as follows: “_Eidometropolis_, or Great Panoramic Picture of London,

Westminster, and Environs, now exhibiting at the Great Room, Spring

Gardens, Admission 1_s._ T. Girtin returns his most grateful thanks to a

generous Public for the encouragement given to his Exhibition, and as it

has been conceived to be merely a Picture framed, he further begs leave

to request of the Public to notice that it is Panoramic, and from its

magnitude, which contains 1944 square feet, gives every object the

appearance of being the size of nature. The situation is so chosen as to

shew to the greatest advantage the Thames, Somerset House, the Temple

Gardens, all the Churches, Bridges, principal Buildings, &c., with the

surrounding country to the remotest distance, interspersed with a

variety of objects characteristic of the great Metropolis. His views of

Paris, etched by himself, are in great forwardness, and to be seen with

the Picture as above.”

The second notice is as follows: “Thursday, 11 Nov., 1802. The Public

are most respectfully informed that in consequence of the decease of Mr.

Thomas Girtin, his Panorama of London exhibiting at Spring Gardens, will

be shut till after his interment, when it will be re-opened for the

benefit of his widow and children, under the management of his brother,

Mr. John Girtin.”

As an example of Girtin’s work we reproduce _The Valley of the Aire with

Kirkstall Abbey_ (Plate II), from Mr. Thomas Girtin’s collection.

JOSEPH MALLORD WILLIAM TURNER

[Born in Maiden Lane, Covent Garden, 23 April, 1775; worked in Life

Academy, R.A. schools, 1792-1799; A.R.A., 1799, R.A. 1802; first tour on

Continent, 1802; first part of “Liber Studiorum” issued, 1807; Professor

of Perspective, R.A., 1807-1837; _Crossing the Brook_ exhibited 1815;

published “Southern Coast” series of engravings, 1814-1826, “Views in

Sussex,” 1816-1820, Hakewill’s “Italy,” 1818-1820, “Richmondshire,”

1818-1823, “Provincial Antiquities of Scotland,” 1819-1826, “England and

Wales,” 1827-1838, Rogers’s “Italy,” 1830, and “Poems,” 1834, “Rivers of

France,” 1833-1835; exhibited _Rain, Steam, and Speed_, 1844; died Dec.

18, 1851.

EXHIBITED: Royal Academy, 1790-1804, ’06-’20, ’22, ’23, ’25-’47,

’49, ’50; British Institution, 1806, ’8, ’9, ’14, ’17, ’35-’41,

’46; Society of British Artists, 1833, ’34; Institution for Enc. of

F.A., Edinburgh, 1824; Cooke’s Exhibitions, 1822-’24; Northern

Academy of Arts, Newcastle, 1828; R. Birmingham S. of Artists,

1829, ’30, ’34, ’35, ’47; Liverpool Academy, 1831, ’45; R.

Manchester Institution, 1834, ’35; Leeds Exhibition, 1839.

WORKS IN PUBLIC GALLERIES: National Gallery; V. and A. Museum;

British Museum; National Galleries of Ireland and Scotland;

Ashmolean and Fitzwilliam Museums; Manchester Whitworth Institute;

Bury Art Gallery, etc. etc.

BIOGRAPHICAL AND CRITICAL SOURCES: Peter Cunningham’s Memoir, in

John Burnet’s “Turner and his Works,” 1852; Alaric Watts’s Memoir,

in “Liber Fluviorum,” 1853; Ruskin’s “Modern Painters” and

“Preterita”; Thornbury’s “Life, etc.,” 2 vols., 1862; Hamerton’s

“Life,” 1879; Monkhouse’s “Turner” (in “Great Artists Series”),

1882; C. F. Bell’s “Exhibited Works of Turner,” 1901; Sir Walter

Armstrong’s “Turner,” 1902; Finberg’s “Turner’s Sketches and

Drawings,” 1910; etc. etc.

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