This apartment, which serves as a sort of antichamber to the great
Gallery, is, at the present moment, appropriated to the annual
monthly exhibition of the productions of living painters, sculptors,
architects, engravers, and draughtsmen. Of these modern works, I
shall, perhaps, speak on a future occasion. But, in the course of a
few days, they will give place to several master-pieces of the
Italian School, some of which were under indispensable repair, when
the others were arranged in the great Gallery.
It would be no easy task to express the various sentiments which take
possession of the mind of the lover of the arts, when, for the first
time, he enters this splendid repository. By frequent visits,
however, the imagination becomes somewhat less distracted, and the
judgment, by degrees, begins to collect itself. Although I am not,
like you, conversant in the Fine Arts, would you tax me with
arrogance, were I to presume to pass an opinion on some of the
pictures comprised in this matchless collection?
Painting being a representation of nature, every spectator, according
to the justness of his ideas, may form an opinion how far the
representation is happily pourtrayed, and in beholding it, experience
a proportionate degree of pleasure: but how different the sensations
of him who, combining all the requisites of a connoisseur,
contemplates the composition of a masterly genius! In tracing the
merits of such a production, his admiration gradually becomes
inflamed, as his eye strays from beauty to beauty.
In painting or sculpture, beauty, as you well know, is either
natural, or generally admitted: the latter depends on the perfection
of the performance, on certain rules established, and principles
settled. This is what is termed _ideal_ beauty, which is frequently
not within the reach of the vulgar; and the merit of which may be
lost on him who has not learned to know and appreciate it. Thus, one
of the finest pictures, ever conceived and executed by man, might
not, perhaps, make an impression on many spectators. Natural beauty,
on the contrary, is a true imitation of nature: its effect is
striking and general, so that it stands not in need of being pointed
out, but is felt and admired by all.
Notwithstanding this truth, be assured that I should never, of my own
accord, have ventured to pronounce on the various degrees of merit of
so many _chefs d'oeuvre_, which all at once solicit attention. This
would require a depth of knowledge, a superiority of judgment, a
nicety of discrimination, a fund of taste, a maturity of experience,
to none of which have I any pretension. The greatest masters, who
have excelled in a particular branch, have sometimes given to the
world indifferent productions; while artists of moderate abilities
have sometimes produced master-pieces far above their general
standard. In a picture, which may, on the whole, merit the
appellation of a _chef d'oeuvre_, are sometimes to be found beauties
which render it superior, negligences which border on the
indifferent, and defects which constitute the bad. Genius has its
flights and deviations; talent, its successes, attempts, and faults;
and mediocrity even, its flashes and chances.
Whatever some persons may affect, a true knowledge of the art of
painting is by no means an easy acquirement; it is not a natural
gift, but demands much reading and study. Many there are, no doubt,
who may be able to descant speciously enough, perhaps, on the
perfections and defects of a picture; but, on that account alone,
they are not to be regarded as real judges of its intrinsic merit.
Know then, that, in selecting the most remarkable productions among
the vast number exhibited in the CENTRAL MUSEUM, I have had the good
fortune to be directed by the same first-rate connoisseur who was so
obliging as to fix my choice in the GALLERY OF ANTIQUES. I mean M.
VISCONTI.
Not confining myself either to alphabetical or chronological order, I
shall proceed to point out to you such pictures of each school as
claim particular notice.