CHAPTER XI

VAN GOYEN AND HOBBEMA

The greatest name in Holland landscape, second only to Rembrandt, as

many believe, in Dutch art, is Jacob van Ruisdael. Of the comparative

merits of the other two leaders of Dutch landscape, opinions may differ;

but personally I give the palm to Van Goyen.

Jan Josephsz van Goyen, to give his full name, was born in Leyden, in

1576. He was the pupil of several teachers, including Esaias van de

Velde. At about the age of twenty-one he made a journey to France in the

company of one of his teachers. Later he visited Belgium and the

northern part of France, the sketches of this trip being still preserved

in the Print Collection of Dresden. Moreover, from the subjects of his

pictures, it is evident that he traveled extensively in Holland. Toward

1634 he settled at The Hague, continuing to work there until his death

in 1656. His pictures found ready sale, but he speculated unfortunately

in houses and pictures and was a victim of that Dutch “South Sea

Bubble,” the speculative mania in tulips. Consequently he died poor.

His work embraces three manners. The first, which lasted until about

1630, shows a tendency to brown, with highly colored figures in which

notes of red predominate. This is the period of Esaias van de Velde’s

influence. In the second period he begins to be himself; the color

becomes more subdued, the skies more clear, and the tonality mingles

grayness with the browns or becomes greenish. This lasts for some years,

and then gradually a finer sense of picturesqueness regulates the

compositions; the technique gains in breadth and authority; the tonality

is attained almost without color.

An example of the early method is _View of Dordrecht_, in the Hague

Gallery. The town is seen in the distance across an expanse of water,

furred by the wind; in the left foreground, the harbor bank with figures

and horses; a sail-boat scudding toward the right. It is a gray day,

translated into tones of brown; an exquisitely impressionistic vision of

the occasion and scene.

A very remarkable picture of the transition stage between the first and

second periods is the _Landscape_ (No. 990) of the Rijks Museum,

illustrated in this book. In the coat of the man on the left the vivid

spot of red appears; his companion’s coat is blue; and these two notes

of color vibrate sharply against the drabbish lowering sky. The ground

is buffish green and the oaks brown. It is a picture of extraordinary

dramatic effect.

Two fine examples of the artist’s middle and later period are in the

Berlin Gallery: _View of Arnheim_ (1646) and _View of Nimwegen_ (1649).

The former shows a horseman in the foreground and a cart farther back,

where a gleam of light strikes, while the distant town is in shadow; and

above this striking contrast is a magnificent height of sky filled with

light and scattered with a few loose, well-constructed clouds. The

tonality is composed of cream, gray, brown, and green. The later

example already shows the prevalence of brown. The architecture is

constructed in tones of pale brown and buff; the water in front is

grayish white, and the ample sky admits a little rose amid the grayish

blue. It is a picture of large feeling, and yet the details are still

drawn in with that wriggling stroke of the brown brush which

characterizes Van Goyen’s work, especially in the beginning and more or

less to the end. It exhibits the feeling of one who is an engraver, as

indeed he was; it is drawing rather than painting. The result is that

some of his pictures seem more than a trifle niggling in their method.

On the other hand, while he never gets away from it, he gets the better

of it. He continues to model with these diminutive curlicues of

vermicelli, now brown, now green, but the method disappears in the big

impression aroused by the ensemble. Other notable examples of his later

period are _The River_ and _Banks of a Canal_, in the Louvre.

But in the final analysis it is not the manner of an artist that is of

most account, but the quality of his appeal. In the case of Van Goyen it

is _spirituel_, not infrequently expressive of spirituality. Transmuted

by his vision, the corporeality of the scene has been dissolved into a

spiritual impression. It is, as it were, a mirage of nature that is

offered to one’s imagination. Van Goyen lacks at once the height and

depth of Jacob van Ruisdael; his moods are dreamy rather than poignant,

and he appeals where the other compels. But his moods are those of a

highly rarefied spirit, that seeks to interpret the bigness and the

subtlety of what it feels by means as abstract as possible.

MEINDERT HOBBEMA

HOBBEMA is the very contrary to Van Goyen. A plain, practical,

matter-of-fact man, he is content to paint what he sees, the objective

appearances of the landscape, viewed through the unimaginative medium of

a healthy naturalism. He was as little addicted to moods of feeling as

to dreams; neither curious for new experiences nor moved to artistic

ambition, for, having found a motive to his liking, he repeated it again

and again with slight variations. Gifted with a strong sense of form and

with an unusual faculty of representing it, he learned from Jacob van

Ruisdael to cultivate both, but was too phlegmatic to receive

inspiration from the master’s genius. Now and then he rose from his

usual level to a height of objective grandeur; but for the most part was

a prosy bourgeois, pottering round the parish.

He was born in 1638, his birthplace being variously assigned to Haarlem,

Koevorden, and the village of Middelharnis, though it may have been

Amsterdam, where he spent his life. At the age of thirty he married a

maid-servant four years his senior. She had been in a well-to-do family,

and through the influence of the latter a place was found for Hobbema in

the Wines-customs. It was sufficient to keep him from actual want, but

the fact did not spur him on to artistic effort. He painted, it would

seem, only when he “felt like it,” which was not often, for the number

of his pictures is for a Dutch artist inconsiderable. The earliest date

on any of his pictures is 1650; the last that can be assigned with

certainty is 1670, for though it is generally accepted that the date

[Illustration: THE AVENUE, MIDDELHARNIS, HOLLAND MEINDERT HOBBEMA

NATIONAL GALLERY, LONDON]

of _The Avenue of Middelharnis_, in the National Gallery, is 1689, the

“8” is scarcely decipherable. If this date is accepted, it leaves the

last twenty years of his life, for he died in 1709, unproductive. No

reason for this is known, nor whether he retained his official position;

the only fact ascertained being that, like his great master and so many

other Dutch artists, he died in extreme poverty.

Neglected by his own countrymen, his best works found their way into

English private collections, from which they are beginning to emerge

into the hands of American collectors: witness _The Water Mill_, known

as the “Trevor Landscape,” and the _Wooded Landscape_, or “Holford

Landscape,” now owned by Mr. J. Pierpont Morgan, and the _Wooded Road_,

in the possession of Mrs. William L. Elkins. Meanwhile Hobbema’s

masterpiece is _The Avenue of Middelharnis_, in the National Gallery,

while the Louvre also owns a fine example in _The Water Mill_, and the

popularity and reputation which these works have so worthily obtained

has led to an overestimation of this artist’s rank. He has even been

classed with Van Ruisdael. On the evidence of _The Avenue_ this is

intelligible, but unfortunately this picture is a unique example. The

other pictures mentioned above are also examples to stir enthusiasm, but

they, too, are exceptional. You will not find their equals anywhere in

the galleries of Europe. On the contrary, those which you do find are

dryly objective reiterations of oak-trees, water, mills, and houses,

perfunctorily seen and rendered. They inspire little enthusiasm and

weary by repetition.

_The Avenue_, on the contrary, is an extraordinary instance of a

moment’s heightened vision of the facts, boldly grasped and carried

through unerringly to a grand conclusion. Again, in the other pictures

named, especially in Mr. Morgan’s _The Water Mill_, there is evidence of

something more than talent. A consummate knowledge of forms, skill of

compositional construction, and ability to create an ensemble of

tonality are here reinforced by a comprehension of the feeling of the

scene, that has lifted it out of mere representation and enhanced its

significance. But unfortunately the talent, transfigured in these

examples, is, in the general run of this artist’s pictures, squandered;

used without conscience and permitted to drift into heartless mannerism.

The fact is that, judged by the final test of the quality of the

painter’s mental and artistic attitude toward his subject, the majority

of Hobbema’s pictures rank considerably below par. It is such work as

the generality of his, which makes the student of Dutch art sometimes

pause in his wanderings through the galleries and ask himself whether

there is not a great deal of perfunctoriness and tedious iteration among

these old masters of Holland. There is, and the fact may as well be

grasped first as last. It is a school of great craftsmen, who sometimes

worked indifferently, punctuated with a considerable number who rise

conspicuously above their fellows, but among these exceptions, save on

rare occasions, Hobbema is not to be reckoned.

[Illustration: VIEW OF HAARLEM JACOB VAN RUISDAEL

FROM HILL OF OVERVEEN

RIJKS MUSEUM, AMSTERDAM]

The Story of Dutch Painting · 第 11 / 12 章