The Spanish school may be said to hold a middle place between the
schools of Italy and Flanders. The most natural and the most indigenous
style it can boast is, unquestionably, that of Murillo, who was never
out of Spain; and although it is true that he formed his manner, in a
great degree, from the study of Ribera and Vandyck, the principles of
those painters are so different, that it would be difficult to recognise
either model in a union of the two. But Murillo superadded much that was
his own, and much that was immediately, and somewhat too
indiscriminately, derived from the observation of nature. The artists of
the school of Seville, of which Murillo is the chief, were generally
called _naturalistas_, as opposed to those who followed the Italian
purity of taste in design, invention, and imitation. Although it is
hardly safe to class all the professors of one province under a
particular designation, the earlier school of Valencia may be considered
the rival of the _naturalistas_: its Italian character is to be traced
from Vincent Juanes, who was compared by Palomino to Raffaelle; in
Ribalta, a work by whom, it is said, was mistaken in Rome for a
performance of Raffaelle’s; in Jacinto Gerónimo di Espinosa, by Cean
Bermudez called a second Domenichino; and in Pedro Orrente and Luis
Tristan, who imitated Bassano and Titian. The appearance in Italy of the
fac-similists and _tenebrosi_ (corresponding with the Spanish
_naturalistas_, with whom they are connected by Ribera’s imitation of
Caravaggio) is considered, with some reason, to have hastened the
decline of painting in that country; in Spain and Flanders, on the other
hand, the art which had before been a feeble or mannered imitation of
the best Italian works, then only began to be great when the style of
the _naturalistas_ was introduced. The practice of the Sevillian
painters in copying objects of still life as a preparatory study, was
probably derived from the Netherlands, and this style again, which was
ominous of degradation and decay in Italy, was the cause of much of the
excellence of the Andalusian painters. The taste of these painters, in
short, was for individual nature; a taste which was in some degree, and
in spite of themselves, corrected by their being almost exclusively
employed in painting for churches. The arts in Spain, from their
earliest introduction, have been devoted to religion; nor is it to be
wondered that this should be the case in a country which seems to have
considered itself in an especial manner the representative of
Catholicism, a natural consequence, perhaps, of its defending the
outposts of Christendom from the infidels. The representation of the
human figure is strictly forbidden by the Koran, and there can be no
doubt that the spirit of opposition was manifested in this point, as in
every other, by the antagonists of the Moors. The conquest of Granada at
the close of the fifteenth century happens to correspond with the
beginning of the great æra of art in Italy, but the demand for
altar-pieces in Spain, before and after that time, is proved by a
constant influx of Italian, Flemish, and even German painters; a fact
which is commonly explained by the wealth which flowed or was expected
to flow into the country by the discovery of America about the same
period. However this may be, so late as the seventeenth century, when
painting may be supposed at length to have been appreciated for itself,
and to have been applied to the ends of general cultivation, as the
handmaid of history and poetry, it is a curious fact that neither
Roelas, Castillo, nor Murillo, not to mention earlier names, ever
painted a mythologic or merely historic subject. From the sublimest
mysteries of the church, and from themes demanding more than ordinary
elevation, the Sevillian painters turned with eagerness to the homely
materials of modern miracles, and from these descended only to indulge
their fondness for indiscriminate imitation. The pictures of Beggar Boys
by which Murillo is perhaps most known in this country, come under the
class of subjects and display the mode of treatment which a school of
mere copyists of nature would prefer. Some works of this kind, however,
attributed to Murillo, and possessing great merit, are said, with
probability, to be the work of Nuñez de Villavicencio, his pupil. It
was, however, precisely such studies as these, which enabled Murillo and
his contemporaries to infuse into their religious subjects that powerful
reality which was among the means of naturalizing the art in Spain, and
which thus produced a new style, uniting sometimes the dignity of the
Italian School with the truth and vivacity of Flemish imitation.
Bartolomé Esteban Murillo is supposed by the writers who follow
Palomino, among whom Cumberland is one, to have been born at Pilas, a
town five leagues west of Seville, in the year 1613; but the discovery
of the memorial of his baptism in Seville, with every proof of identity,
shows that he was born in that city, January 1, 1618. His early fondness
for drawing induced his parents to place him with Juan del Castillo, a
designer of some merit, although not remarkable as a colourist. The
gentle manners and good education of Murillo soon recommended him to his
master, who appears to have preferred him to his other scholars, among
whom were Pedro de Moya, and Alonzo Cano; but this preference did not
exempt the favourite from the servile offices of grinding colours,
preparing canvasses, and all the mechanical preparations which the
Spanish painters considered an essential part of an artist’s education.
It appears that the schools of Seville generally were deficient in casts
from the antique: and in investigating the structure of the human frame,
the studies of the artists were chiefly limited to an anatomical figure
by Becerra, a sculptor who had returned to Spain early in the sixteenth
century, from the school of M. Angelo. The living model was, however,
constantly referred to, and the fellow-students of Murillo were in the
habit of sitting to each other for portions of figures that were wanted,
when they could not afford to pay hired models. It was also the custom
of the schools to study drapery arranged on the mannequin, or
lay-figure, by the master. It was more usual to paint than to draw from
the figures, but no student was permitted to copy the model thus till he
had attained dexterity with the brush by imitating objects of still
life: a practice which accounts for the number of well-painted Spanish
pictures of this class. Such pictures, often representing eatables with
kitchen utensils, are known by the general name of _Bodegones_. Herrera
el Mozo was called by the Italians “Lo spagnuolo de’ pesci,” from his
skill in painting fish, and Pedro de Camprobin equalled the best masters
in fruit and flowers. Velasquez and Murillo, it is said, acquired their
power of execution from their early practice in this kind of imitation.
The mode of copying the human figure was dictated by these preliminary
studies; freedom of hand, a disdain of minuteness more than compensated
by powerful effects, indifference as to selection, and consequently, a
very moderate degree of beauty of form, distinguish the Spanish
_naturalistas_. About the time Murillo began his career, the school of
Seville was rapidly advancing under the influence of four distinguished
masters and teachers of the art, Herrera the elder, or, to give him his
Spanish appellation, Herrera el viejo, Pacheco, (under both of whom
Velasquez studied), Roelas, and Castillo. The greatest emulation existed
among their respective scholars; and in all public works in which the
latter competed, the credit of the master was considered at stake as
well as their own.
Murillo soon distinguished himself in the school of Castillo; his first
commissions from public bodies were a Madonna del Rosario, with St.
Domingo, painted for the college of Santo Tomas; and a Virgin, with St.
Francis and other saints, for the convent of “la Regina.” In these works
the artist followed, in some degree, the style of Castillo. His master
having removed to Cadiz, the young painter remained without
recommendation and without employment, and was compelled to do coarse
altar-pictures and saints for the _feria_, or market, which was held
once a week in the parish “Omnium Sanctorum,” and which seems to have
been chiefly devoted to the commerce with South America. The paintings
offered in this market, or fair, for sale, were generally the work of
the most inferior artists, and the expression “pintura de feria” is
still proverbially applied to pictures of the lowest class. Such was the
rapidity with which these works were done, that it appears it was not
uncommon for the artist to produce his saint while the purchaser was
cheapening the bargain, and the Spanish writer, whose authority is
chiefly followed in this memoir, goes so far as to say, that a San
Onofre was presently transformed to a San Cristobal, or a Virgen del
Carmen to a San Antonio, or even to the representation of the Souls in
Purgatory. Better artists, however, occasionally condescended to paint
such pictures, and with some augmentation of price; but even the worst
performers were known, in some instances, to acquire such dexterity by
this work, that very little additional study in the regular schools
converted them into respectable artists. This singular mode of attaining
mechanical facility must therefore be reckoned among the causes which
influenced the executive style of the Sevillian painters; and Murillo,
among others, no doubt benefited by his practice in the _feria_.
A circumstance occurred about the same time which had great influence on
his life. His fellow-student, Pedro de Moya, who had accompanied the
army to Flanders, conceived a great admiration for the works of Vandyck,
and went to London to study under the Flemish painter, where he soon
formed a style bearing a strong resemblance to that of his master. On
the death of Vandyck, Moya returned to Seville, where he presently
attracted the attention of his former companions by the accurate, yet
powerful manner of painting which he had acquired. To Murillo the style
was so new, that he determined at once to go either to Flanders or
Italy, to perfect himself in the art. It was at this moment that he felt
his poverty to be a serious misfortune; but, not dismayed by
difficulties, he set to work afresh for his South American and West
Indian patrons, and having saved a small sum of money, without
communicating his intentions to any one, and without even taking leave
of his sister, whom he left with an uncle, he quitted Seville for
Madrid, with the intention of proceeding to Italy, at the age of
twenty-four. On his arrival at the capital, he naturally waited on Diego
Velasquez, who was a native of Seville and had received his professional
education there; he was at this time first painter to the king (Philip
IV.). To this distinguished artist Murillo opened his desire to visit
Italy, and begged some letters of introduction for Rome. Velasquez
received him with kindness, promised him assistance, and made him most
liberal offers for his immediate advantage. Meanwhile the desire of the
young painter to see the best specimens of the art was in a great
measure gratified under the auspices of his new friend, by his
inspection of the pictures in the Royal Palace, at Buen Retiro, and in
the Escorial. He immediately expressed a wish to make copies of some of
these works, and while Velasquez accompanied the King to Aragon, in the
year 1642, Murillo copied some pictures by Vandyck, Spagnoleto, and
Velasquez himself. These copies were shown to the King on his return by
Velasquez, and were admired by all the court. The disgrace of the
minister Olivarez, in 1643, was deeply felt by Velasquez, to whom the
Count Duke had been a generous patron; and although it did not diminish
the esteem in which the King held the painter, this circumstance seems
first to have disgusted Murillo with Madrid. On the return of Velasquez
from Zaragosa, in 1644, he was astonished at the progress of his
scholar, and finding him sufficiently advanced to profit by a visit to
Italy, he offered to procure for him letters of recommendation and other
assistance from the King himself. Murillo had, however, already
determined to return to Seville, influenced either by domestic
considerations, or by having already satisfied the wish which first
urged him to leave his native city. Velasquez regretted this resolution,
imagining that the young painter would have arrived at still greater
perfection if he could have studied for a time in Rome.
The first works done by Murillo after his return to Seville in 1645 were
the pictures of the convent of San Francisco. The building was destroyed
by fire in 1810, but several of the paintings are now in the collection
of Marshal Soult. In the pictures of San Francisco, Cean Bermudez
recognises an imitation of Vandyck, Ribera, and Velasquez, the three
painters whom Murillo chiefly studied while at Madrid. His new works
excited general attention; so little had he been known before he left
Seville, and so studious and retired had been his habits, that his
absence had scarcely been noticed, and his re-appearance with so
masterly a style of painting astonished his fellow-citizens. The fame of
Herrera, Pacheco, and Zurbaran, was at once eclipsed, and he was
universally acknowledged the first painter of the Sevillian School. The
obscurity in which he had lived before his visit to Madrid was now
exchanged for the most flattering attentions of the powerful and
wealthy, and many of the chief citizens wished to have their portraits
done by him. Meanwhile he painted the Flight into Egypt, in the church
de la Merced, which has been attributed to Velasquez, and other works
now no longer in Spain. In 1648, he married Doña Beatriz de Cabrera y
Sotomayor, a lady of birth and some fortune, a native of Pilas, from
which circumstance, perhaps, originated the mistake of Palomino in
assigning that town as the birth-place of her husband. A change in his
manner of painting, adopted, as Cean Bermudez asserts, to please the
public, is observable soon after this period. It succeeded in pleasing
all parties, for the new manner was extolled even by the warmest
admirers of the previous performances of the master. The works of
Murillo may be divided into three distinct styles: the first,
necessarily very different from his subsequent manner, is to be sought
in the specimens which date before his departure for Madrid; the second,
is that which he acquired in the capital, and is exemplified by the
works above-mentioned, done immediately after his return; the third
manner dates from about 1650, and the first public work which may be
cited as illustrating it, is an Immaculate Conception (a subject often
treated by the Spanish painters) in the convent of San Francisco,
painted in 1652.
The latter and characteristic style of Murillo may be generally
described as possessing more suavity, and softer transitions of light
and shade, than that of the _naturalistas_ of his time. It is
remarkable, besides, for a general harmony of hues; for considerable,
but by no means uniform, softness of contour; for simplicity and
propriety of attitude and expression; for physiognomies, if not always
distinguished by beauty or refinement, yet interesting from a certain
character of purity and goodness; for free yet well-arranged drapery;
for a force of light on the principal objects, and, above all, for
surprising truth in the colour of the flesh, heightened by an almost
constant opposition of dark-grey backgrounds. The two pictures of St.
Leander and St. Isidore, in the sacristy of the Cathedral, were done in
1655. In the same year Murillo painted the Nativity of the Virgin, now
in the Cathedral; and in 1656 the great picture of St. Antony of Padua,
the altar-piece of the Baptistery of the same church: the picture of the
Baptism of Christ in the same _Retablo_, or architectural frame, is also
by Murillo, but by no means equal to the St. Antony. The four half
circles, formerly in the church of Santa Maria la Blanca, belong to the
same time, as well as a _Dolorosa_, and St. John the Evangelist, done
for the same church. In 1658 Murillo undertook, without any aid from the
government, to establish a public academy in Seville; and, after great
difficulties, owing to the imperious temper of his rivals Juan de Valdes
Leal and Francisco de Herrera el Mozo, who was just returned from Italy,
he succeeded in his object, and the academy was opened in 1660. Murillo
was the first president, but, from whatever cause, he was not re-elected
to that office after the first year: the multitude of his occupations
is, however, the most probable reason to be assigned for this. Although
the best Spanish painters, such as Velasquez, Murillo, Zurbaran, and
others, arrived at the excellence they attained without an early
acquaintance with the antique, there being, as we have seen, no casts
from the Greek statues in the private schools of Seville, yet, on the
establishment of a public academy, it might be supposed that it would
have been furnished with the best examples of form. Such, however, does
not appear to have been the case: except a few drawings by the
professors, which were copied by mere beginners, there were, it seems,
no other models than the living figure and the draped mannequin; and
when once admitted to copy from the life, the students were in the habit
of confining their practice to painting, without considering that of
drawing at all essential. This method of instruction was peculiar to the
Academy of Seville, as distinguished from other similar establishments
in Spain; and it is evident that the object was to follow up the method
which had already been sufficient by itself to render the school
illustrious. It may be observed that the study of drapery in this school
had the effect, to a certain extent, of ennobling the style of the
painters; and they were perhaps led to pay attention to this branch of
the art, from so often witnessing the fine effect of drapery in the
dresses of the religious orders. Sir Joshua Reynolds has somewhere
justly observed, that a grand cast of drapery is sometimes of itself
sufficient to give an air of dignity to a picture.
About 1668, Murillo began the celebrated series in the Hospital de San
Jorge, or de la Caridad, whence came several of the pictures now in the
possession of Marshal Soult. Among those that remain, the most
remarkable and most copious compositions, are the Moses striking the
Rock, and the miracle of the Loaves and Fishes. The Prodigal Son,
Abraham receiving the Angels, the Pool of Bethesda, and the Deliverance
of Peter from Prison are now in Paris; they are all excellent specimens
of the master. The Picture of San Juan de Dios bearing an infirm
mendicant, is celebrated for its strength of effect, and has been
compared, and even attributed, to Spagnoleto. Another composition, now
in Madrid, representing Santa Isabel curing the diseased poor, a
wonderful specimen of imitation, was the greatest favourite of the
series with the common people, when in its original place, owing,
perhaps, to the very familiar and disgusting details of the subject; it
was generally known by the name of el Tiñoso, from the principal figure,
a boy whose sore head the Saint is dressing. The habit of copying to
illusion the merest accidents of nature without distinction, naturally
led the Spanish painters to all the deformities that can be excused by
the epithet “picturesque.” The details of the picture just mentioned
would be loathsome, even in words, yet other Sevillian painters went
beyond it; and Murillo himself, on seeing a picture in which some dead
bodies are painted with repulsive reality by Juan de Valdes, in the
church of the Caridad, observed to that artist, that “it could only be
looked at while holding the nostrils.”
Cean Bermudez remarks of the Tiñoso, that the figure of the Queen Santa
Isabel (whom by the way he makes a Queen of Portugal in one of his works
and a Queen of Hungary in another) is equal to Vandyck; the face of the
boy illuminated by the reflection of a basin of water, worthy of Paul
Veronese; and an old woman and a mendicant unbinding his leg, as fine as
Velasquez. He concludes by asserting, that if instead of the numbers of
copies, good, bad, and indifferent, that have been made from all the
pictures of the Caridad, a series of accurate engravings after them had
been executed, these compositions would be as much celebrated and
admired as those of the best Italian painters. The pictures of the
Caridad were finished in 1674. The Capuchin Convent is another vast
gallery of the fine works of Murillo. Without reckoning smaller pieces,
there are twenty pictures by his hand in the convent with figures the
size of life. Among these one is said to have obtained the especial
preference of the painter himself; the subject is Santo Tomas di
Villanueva distributing alms. In the Nativity, Murillo has followed the
artifice of Correggio, by making the light emanate from the infant: this
picture is one of the best of the series. The Annunciation is remarkable
for the beauty and dignity of the Angel, and for the graceful humility
of the Virgin. Three pictures, done for the Hospital de los Venerables,
about 1678, are mentioned by the author already quoted as admirable
performances: among them the Penitence of St. Peter is described as
surpassing the same subject by Ribera, and an Immaculate Conception as
superior in colour and admirable management of light and shade to every
similar composition by the artist himself. In the refectory of the
convent is the portrait of Don Justino Neve, by whom Murillo was
employed to paint the pictures just mentioned; his biographer says it is
in all respects equal to Vandyck. The altar pictures of the Convent of
San Agustin, and a long list of single figures of saints, some larger
than life, together with many portraits of superiors of religious
orders, scarcely complete the catalogue of Murillo’s public works in
Seville, and it would be too long to enumerate those which exist in
other parts of Spain. The pictures which he executed for private
collections were almost equally numerous, and his biographer asserts,
that at the beginning of the last century there was scarcely a house of
respectability in Seville that was not ornamented with some work of his.
They began to disappear when Philip V. and his court visited the city.
Many were presented or sold to the noblemen and ambassadors who
accompanied the king, and are now in galleries of Madrid and other
cities of Europe. Since that time, however, several of the principal
families have made their pictures heir-looms, and thus guarded, as far
as possible, against a further dispersion of their countryman’s works.
Murillo’s last work was the altar-piece of the Capuchins, at Cadiz,
representing the Marriage of St. Catherine. While employed on this
picture he fell from the scaffold; and a serious malady, which was the
consequence, compelled him to return to Seville, where he soon after
died, April 3, 1682. He was buried in a chapel of the Church of Santa
Cruz. It was to this chapel he was in the habit of going to contemplate
Campana’s picture of the Descent from the Cross; and shortly before his
death, being asked by the sacristan, who wanted to shut the church, why
he lingered there, he answered, “I am only waiting till these holy men
shall have taken down the Lord from the Cross.” The picture of the
marriage of St. Catherine was finished by Francisco Menéses Osorio, one
of the eleven scholars of Murillo enumerated by Cean Bermudez.
The short account of Murillo, in Cumberland’s “Anecdotes of eminent
Painters in Spain,” is taken from the incorrect but amusing “Parnaso
Español pintoresco laureado” of Palomino. A very good general and
concise history of the Spanish school (though containing several errors
of the press in dates), with an interesting list, not to be found
elsewhere, of the early pictures of Murillo, is contained in the Foreign
Quarterly Review, No. 26. There are, probably, no other English works on
the subject, except in a Dictionary of Spanish Painters, not yet
complete, and the incidental notices in books of travels. The foregoing
account is chiefly taken from a Letter by Cean Bermudez, “Sobre el
estilo y gusto en la Pintura de la Escuela Sevillana, &c. Cadiz, 1806,”
published subsequently to his “Diccionario Histórico de los mas ilustres
profesores de las Bellas Artes en España, Madrid, 1800,” which has also
been consulted.
[Illustration:
[Holy Family of Murillo.]
]
[Illustration:
_Engraved by E. Mackenzie._