You will all remember how John Evelyn, writing to Samuel Pepys, advised
him to collect engraved portraits--since, in his own words, “Some are
so well done to the life, that they may stand comparison with the best
paintings.” He then adds: “This were a cheaper, and so much a more
useful, curiosity, as they seldom are without their names, ages and
eulogies of the persons whose portraits they represent. I say you will
be exceedingly pleased to contemplate the effigies of those who have
made such a noise and bustle in the world; either by their madness and
folly; or a more conspicuous figure, by their wit and learning. They
will greatly refresh you in your study and by your fireside, when you
are many years returned.” We know by his “Diary” that Pepys became an
enthusiastic collector and that he went over to Paris to buy many of
Robert Nanteuil’s engraved portraits--at a later date commissioning his
wife to secure for him many more, which he strongly desired.
From the time of Evelyn and Pepys in England, and that prince of
print-collectors in France, the Abbé de Marolles--who in 1666 could
boast of possessing over 123,000 prints, “and all the portraits
extant”--portraits have had, for the student, a peculiar fascination,
and it may be interesting to consider briefly the work of some six or
eight of the acknowledged masters of the art.
Aside from two unimportant plates by the Master of the Amsterdam
Cabinet, which may, or may not, be portraits, the earliest engraver
to address himself to portraiture, pure and simple, is the anonymous
German master with the monogram =W caduceus B=. So far as we know, he
executed four plates only (c. 1480-1485). In them the characterization
is strong, the drawing clear and vigorous. The artist’s technique may
have owed something to Martin Schongauer, but it is singularly lacking
in the refinement and balance which mark the work of that engraver.
DANIEL HOPFER, who, in 1493, was already working in Augsburg,
has left us an etching, which certainly cannot be later than 1504,
and may have been executed five, or even ten, years earlier. It is a
portrait of _Kunz von der Rosen_, the Jester-Adviser of the Emperor
Maximilian I. The etching is upon iron, and the quality of the line
is well adapted to the rugged character of the personage. This plate
was copied, in reverse, with some modifications, by an anonymous North
Italian engraver and reappears as _Gonsalvo of Cordova_, who was in
Italy, in command of the army of Ferdinand V of Castile, between 1494
and 1504, when Ferdinand’s jealousy caused him to be superseded in the
Vice Royalty of Naples.
[Illustration: MASTER =W caduceus B=. HEAD OF A YOUNG WOMAN
Size of the original engraving, 4¾ × 3⅜ inches
In the Royal Print Room, Berlin]
[Illustration: ALBRECHT DÜRER. ALBERT OF BRANDENBURG
Size of the original engraving, 5¾ × 3⅞ inches
In the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston]
The earliest in date of DÜRER’S engraved portraits is likewise the
best. _Albert of Brandenburg_ was twenty-nine years of age, in 1519,
when Dürer engraved this plate. There is a concentration upon the
purely portrait element lacking in some of the later prints. The burin
work is singularly delicate and beautiful. Indeed, nothing better,
from a technical standpoint, has ever been done on copper than Dürer’s
six portrait plates; and if he at times succumbs to the temptation of
rendering each minor detail with the same loving care which he bestows
upon the face itself, he remains, notwithstanding, one of the greatest
masters of the burin the world has seen.
Dürer engraved a second plate of _Albert of Brandenburg_, in 1523.
The intervening four years had left their mark upon the Cardinal,
and neither as a portrait nor as an engraving is it as pleasing
as the earlier one. In the following year, 1524, there are two
portraits--_Frederic the Wise, Elector of Saxony_ and _Wilibald
Pirkheimer_. The former was one of the earliest patrons of Dürer and
likewise one of the most liberal-minded princes of his time. The
plate is executed in Dürer’s painstaking and careful manner, nor
does it lack, as a portrait, the directness and immediacy of appeal
of the silver-point drawing, which may have served as its original.
Wilibald Pirkheimer, the celebrated patrician and humanist, was Dürer’s
life-long and most intimate friend, and it is to him that Dürer’s
letters from Venice were addressed.
_Philip Melanchthon_ is the simplest in treatment and the most
satisfying, in its elimination of unnecessary detail, of Dürer’s
portrait engravings, and is the best likeness of the mild reformer.
The inscription reads: “Dürer could depict the features of the living
Philip, but the skilled hand could not depict his mind.” Here Dürer
does himself less than justice, for it is the portrait-like character
which makes this engraving still noteworthy after the lapse of four
centuries.
To the same year, 1526, belongs _Erasmus of Rotterdam_. It is a
technical masterpiece. Dürer has lavished all his skill upon this
plate. It is magnificent; but from a purely portrait standpoint, it is
a magnificent failure.
[Illustration: ALBRECHT DÜRER. PHILIP MELANCHTHON
Size of the original engraving, 6⅞ × 5 inches
In the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston]
[Illustration: ANTHONY VAN DYCK. PORTRAIT OF HIMSELF (First State)
Size of the original etching, 9½ × 6⅛ inches
In the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston]
For a full hundred years we have no portraits of note; then there
enters upon the scene one of the great princes of the art--VAN
DYCK--whose etched portraits vie with those of Rembrandt in vitality,
and surpass them in immediacy of appeal. Van Dyck had not that
deep humanity, that profound reading of human character, which raises
Rembrandt above all rivals; but upon the purely technical side,
working within the truest traditions of etching, with due regard to
its possibilities and its limitations, Van Dyck may claim precedence.
His fifteen original portrait etchings (together with _Erasmus of
Rotterdam_, after Holbein) undoubtedly belong to the period between his
return from Italy to Antwerp, in 1626, and his settlement in London, in
1632. From the very first, Van Dyck seems to have been in possession of
all his powers. His etchings show various modes of treatment, according
to the character of the sitter, and it would be difficult to speak of
the _development_ of his art, since, by the grace of God, he seems to
have been a born etcher.
Van Dyck’s _Portrait of Himself_ naturally interests us most, on
account of its subject. So far as Van Dyck has seen fit to carry it, it
is a perfect work of art, not the least remarkable feature being the
splendid placing of the head upon the plate. Unfortunately, the first
state is of such excessive rarity that the majority of print students
can know this superb portrait only through reproductions (in which much
of its delicacy is necessarily lost) or, in the later state, where the
plate is finished with the graver by Jacob Neefs--a distressing piece
of work, strangely enough, countenanced by Van Dyck himself; since
in the British Museum there is a touched counter-proof of the first
state, which proves that Van Dyck directed the elaboration of the
plate, no doubt with the intention of using it as a title page to the
_Iconography_, a series of a hundred engraved portraits of his friends
and contemporaries.
Of even subtler beauty is _Snyders_, unfortunately--like the portrait
of Van Dyck himself--of the greatest rarity and also, like that plate,
finished with the graver by Jacob Neefs. It is perfectly satisfying
from every point of view, combining, as it does, the greatest freedom
with absolute certainty of hand. The treatment of the face shows a
thorough knowledge of all the technical resources of the art, the high
lights having been “stopped out” exactly where needed, the etched dots
and lines melting into a perfect harmony.
In marked contrast to the delicacy of _Snyders_ is the bolder and
more rugged treatment of _Jan Snellinx_. Fortunately, the plate has
remained, until our own day, in essentially the same condition as when
it left Van Dyck’s hands, and we can better realize what an artistic
treasure-house the _Iconography_ might have been, had the public
possessed the intelligence to appreciate, at their true worth, these
fine flowerings of Van Dyck’s genius, instead of demanding, as they
did, that a plate be absolutely “finished” to the four corners by
the professional engraver.
[Illustration: ANTHONY VAN DYCK. FRANS SNYDERS (First State)
Size of the original etching, 9⅛ × 6⅛ inches
In the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston]
[Illustration: ANTHONY VAN DYCK. LUCAS VORSTERMAN (First State)
Size of the original engraving, 9⅝ × 6⅛ inches
In the Collection of Charles C. Walker, Esq.]
_Lucas Vorsterman_ is, in some ways, the most purely pictorial of
Van Dyck’s portrait etchings. Even the taste of the time demanded no
further elaboration than an engraved background, which, judiciously
added, left undisturbed Van Dyck’s original work.
It would be interesting to know whether REMBRANDT was acquainted with
the etched work of Van Dyck. If so, it is all the more astounding that
his work should betray no trace of any outside influence.
Rembrandt’s earliest dated etching is also, seemingly, his first
etching--a _Portrait of His Mother_, of the year 1628--an unsurpassed
little masterpiece. In its own mode of simple, direct, open, linear
treatment, there is nothing finer, even in the work of Rembrandt
himself. _Saskia with Pearls in Her Hair_, of 1634, as also the _Young
Man in a Velvet Cap with Books Beside Him_, which belongs to the year
1637, are in Rembrandt’s best manner, but the crowning triumph of this
period is unquestionably _Rembrandt Leaning on a Stone Sill_, bearing
the date 1639 and showing Rembrandt at the happiest period of his
life--successful, prosperous, and perfect master of his medium.
The portrait of an _Old Man in a Divided Fur_ _Cap_, of the following
year, is likewise admirable--not a line too much and every line full
of significance. _Jan Cornelis Sylvius_, of 1646, shows in a marked
degree Rembrandt’s sympathy with, and appreciation of the beauty of old
age. The face is treated in a delicate and sensitive manner, and, with
the fewest possible strokes, Rembrandt has indicated the texture and
growth of the sparse beard of his aged sitter. Sulphur-tint has been
used to give additional modelling to the face, while the background
and costume are finished in a way which would have won the admiration
of Dürer himself. _Ephraim Bonus_, _Jan Asselyn_, and _Jan Six_ are
Rembrandt’s three portrait etchings for the year 1647. _Jan Six_ is
Rembrandt’s masterpiece, so far as elaborate finish is concerned. He
has availed himself of all the resources of etching, dry-point, and of
the burin--used freely as an etcher may use it--to carry forward this
plate. The center of the room is bathed in subdued light, which melts
into rich and mysterious shadows in the corners.
[Illustration: REMBRANDT. JAN CORNELIS SYLVIUS
Size of the original etching, 10⅞ × 7½ inches
In the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston]
[Illustration: REMBRANDT. REMBRANDT LEANING ON A STONE SILL
Size of the original etching, 8⅛ × 6½ inches
In the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston]
[Illustration: REMBRANDT. CLEMENT DE JONGHE (First State)
Size of the original etching, 8⅛ × 6⅜ inches
In the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston]
[Illustration: REMBRANDT. JAN LUTMA (First State)
Size of the original etching, 7⅞ × 5⅞ inches
In the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston]
_Rembrandt Drawing at a Window_ is one of the most characterful of
his portraits. It shows him at the age of forty-two. Years of sorrow
have left their mark upon his countenance, but what a strong, resolute
face it is! _Clement de Jonghe_ (which should be seen in the first
state before the expression of the face was entirely changed) is
executed in Rembrandt’s open, linear manner, without strong
contrasts of light and dark. For beauty of drawing and subtlety of
observation, it is one of his finest plates. _Old Haaring_, of 1655,
is a magnificent dry-point, in which Rembrandt has built up, with many
lines, a completely harmonious picture; but for grip of character and
straightforward presentation of the personality of his sitter, it must
yield precedence to the unsurpassed _Jan Lutma_, of the following year.
This portrait, in the first state, before the introduction of the
window in the background, is one of Rembrandt’s most mature works, in
that the method is perfectly adapted to the result desired.
In France there is little of significance in portrait engraving during
the sixteenth century. THOMAS DE LEU and LÉONARD GAULTIER based
their style upon the miniature portrait engravers of the Northern
School, such as the WIERIX. Although their graver work is often quite
beautiful, it lacks originality, and when, as frequently happened,
they endeavored to interpret the wonderful drawings of the Clouets
or Dumonstier, they signally failed in capturing the charm of their
originals.
CLAUDE MELLAN, who was born at Abbeville in 1598, is, in a sense,
the fountain-head of French portrait engraving. His work is
characteristically French, in that it is the result of a system
carefully worked out to its logical conclusion. In his desire to keep
strictly within the limits of what he considered to be the proper
province of engraving, he carried his insistence upon line to a point
which borders on mannerism and which, for over two centuries, has
militated against his full recognition.
Mellan’s earliest engravings recall the work of Léonard Gaultier, but
his first teacher is not known. Dissatisfied with his instruction in
Paris, in 1624 he went to Rome where, while studying engraving under
Villamena, he came under the influence of the French painter, Simon
Vouet, who not only provided his protégé with drawings to engrave, but
persuaded him to base all his training upon a thorough ground-work of
drawing. It is this severe training as a draughtsman which lies at the
foundation of Mellan’s style. His original drawings were executed in
pencil, silver-point, or chalk, and in his engravings he preserves all
the delicate and elusive charm of his originals.
[Illustration: CLAUDE MELLAN. VIRGINIA DA VEZZO
Size of the original engraving, 4½ × 3 inches
In the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston]
[Illustration: CLAUDE MELLAN. FABRI DE PEIRESC
Size of the original engraving, 8⅜ × 5⅝ inches
In the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston]
His manner of engraving is peculiar to himself. The inventor of a mode,
he so uses it as to exhaust its possibilities and leaves nothing for
his successors to do along similar lines. Consequently, although his
influence on French portrait engraving was great and far-reaching, he
cannot, in any true sense, be considered as the founder of a “school.”
Even in his early portrait plates (incidentally, among the most
charming and perfect), such as _Virginia de Vezzo_, the wife of Simon
Vouet, engraved in Rome in 1626, we find his style fully developed.
Save for four little spots of deepest shadow, the entire portrait is
executed in single, uncrossed lines, indicating, by their direction,
the contour of the face, which is delicately modelled, while the flow
of the hair is realistically and beautifully expressed. From this
simple, linear method, adopted thus early, Mellan, with few unimportant
exceptions, never departed; and although he lived and worked until
1688, surviving Morin by twenty-two years and Robert Nanteuil by ten,
he held to his own self-appointed course, his work showing no trace
whatever of the influence of his two most distinguished contemporaries.
Among his many portraits choice is difficult, but, by general consent,
his style is seen at its very best in _Fabri de Peiresc_, which excels
in point of drawing, grip of character, and straightforwardness of
presentation. It is dated 1637 and was engraved on his way from Rome to
Paris, in which city he settled, enjoying for many years a reputation
and success second to none. Of his other portraits mention must be
made of _Henriette-Marie de Buade Frontenac_, of a delightful silvery
quality, and of her husband, _Henri-Louis Habert de Montmor_, the
richest toned of all his works. _Nicolas Fouquet_ likewise is of
peculiar interest, inasmuch as in this plate Mellan has departed for
once from his invariable method of pure line work and has modelled the
face with an elaborate system of dots, in the manner of Morin.
JEAN MORIN was Mellan’s junior by two years. His style is in the
greatest contrast to that of the older master, not only technically,
but in that he was always a _reproductive_ engraver, never designing
his own portraits, the majority of his plates being after the paintings
of Philippe de Champaigne. His plates are executed almost entirely in
pure etching, with just sufficient burin work to give crispness and
decision. The heads are elaborately modelled, with many minute dots,
recalling somewhat Van Dyck’s manner in such a portrait as _Snyders_.
_Antoine Vitré_, the famous printer, shows Morin’s method at its
richest; its brilliancy and color place it in the forefront of French
portraits, though for charm it may not rank with _Anne of Austria_ or
_Cardinal Richelieu_, both after paintings by Philippe de Champaigne.
_Cardinal Guido Bentivoglio_, after Van Dyck, well deserves the
reputation which it has so long enjoyed. It is, furthermore,
significant as an example of Morin’s power of concentrating all the
attention upon the countenance of his sitter. He was primarily a
_portrait_ engraver and never allowed himself to be seduced, as were
such eighteenth century masters as the Drevets, into lavishing his
skill upon the purely ornamental accessories, to the detriment of the
portrait itself. Fine though Van Dyck’s full-length painting is, Morin
is more than justified in taking from it the head and bust only, since
thereby he gives to his plate a vivid and compelling quality which
otherwise would be lacking.
[Illustration: JEAN MORIN. CARDINAL GUIDO BENTIVOGLIO
Size of the original engraving, 11½ × 9¼ inches
In the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston]
[Illustration: ROBERT NANTEUIL. POMPONE DE BELLIÈVRE
Size of the original engraving, 12⅞ × 9⅞ inches
In the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston]
ROBERT NANTEUIL is not only the greatest of French portrait engravers;
he is one of the greatest portraitists in the history of French art. In
his work the clarity and logic of the French temperament is enriched
by a study of the engravers of the Flemish and Dutch schools, though
in Nanteuil’s plates color is never sought at the expense of balance.
His technique is a fusion of the best elements of Mellan and of Morin.
From Mellan he derived his carefully balanced system of open line work,
while Morin doubtless suggested to him the use of graver flicks in
modelling the face.
The date of Nanteuil’s birth is variously given as 1623, 1625, and
1630, the last-named date, which is accepted by Robert-Dumesnil,
corresponding best with what we know regarding the development of his
work.
His first portrait plates were done in 1648, the year in which he
came to Paris, and from that time onwards he devoted himself almost
exclusively to portraiture, until his death in 1678. His engravings
form a gallery illustrating the reign of Louis XIV, from the King
himself, whom he engraved no fewer than eleven times, to the Norman
peasant and poet, Loret (incidentally, one of Nanteuil’s finest
portrait plates), whose “Gazette” satirized each day “the intriguing
nobles who were not afraid of bullets, but who were in deadly fear of
winter mud.”
An interesting story is told of Nanteuil’s début in Paris. It is said
that he received his first order by following some divinity students to
a wine-shop, where they were wont to take their meals. There, having
chosen one of the portrait drawings he had brought from Rheims, he
pretended to look for a sitter whose name and address he had forgotten.
It is superfluous to add that the picture was not recognized, but it
was passed from hand to hand, the price was asked, the artist was
modest in his demands, and before the end of the repast his career had
begun.
One of the most interesting portraits, in his early manner, is that
of _Cardinal de Retz_, engraved in 1650. Morin has likewise left us a
portrait of this personage, and it is instructive to compare the two
engravings. In Nanteuil’s the background is still somewhat stiff, but
the costume is treated simply and directly, while the face shows a
judicious blending of line and dot work.
Nothing could be finer and more reticent than _Marie de Bragelogne_
of 1656. The pale, elderly, and somewhat sad face of this old love
of Cardinal Richelieu is treated with the greatest sympathy. For the
most part, it is modelled with delicate flick work, and where lines
are employed, they are so used as to blend perfectly into a harmonious
whole. In contrast to the face, the collar is rendered in long, flowing
lines, without cross-hatching, entirely in the manner of Claude Mellan.
It is from Nanteuil’s own drawing from life and is perhaps the most
beautiful of the eight engraved portraits of women we have from his
hand.
_Pompone de Bellièvre_, of 1657, after Le Brun’s painting, has enjoyed
among collectors the reputation of being the most beautiful of all
engraved portraits. Fine it undoubtedly is; but it lacks that grip of
character which is so conspicuously present in Nanteuil’s engravings
from life, and for compelling portrait quality it falls short of
_Pierre Seguier_, engraved in the same year, likewise after Le Brun’s
painting. _Jean Loret_ certainly does not owe its fame to the beauty
of the personage portrayed. It is one of Nanteuil’s most convincing
and vital plates. The modelling of the face and the means employed are
absolutely adequate. This engraving alone would explain why, in his
day, Nanteuil’s greatest fame rested upon the surprisingly life-like
quality of his work, whether it be pastel, drawing, or engraving.
To the year 1658 also belongs _Basile Fouquet_, brother of Nicolas
Fouquet, the famous Superintendent of Finance. Not less beautiful than
_Pompone de Bellièvre_, there is a vitality about the _Basile Fouquet_
lacking in the better-known plate.
Three years later, in 1661, Nanteuil engraved the portrait of _Nicolas
Fouquet_--one of his masterpieces of characterization. Nothing could
be finer than the way in which he has portrayed the great finance
minister, whose ambition it was to succeed Mazarin as virtual ruler of
the kingdom. It is a historical document of prime importance, of the
greatest beauty, and preserves for all time the features of the then
most powerful man in France, gazing out upon the world with a half
quizzical expression, totally unaware of the sensational reversal of
Fortune already drawing near.
A plate not less admirable in its way--a little masterpiece--is
_François de la Mothe le Vayer_, who was regarded as the Plutarch
of his time for his boundless erudition and his mode of reasoning.
Nanteuil’s engraving shows him at the age of seventy-five, in full
possession of all his intellectual powers and in the enjoyment of that
good health which lasted until his death, eleven years later, at the
ripe age of eighty-six.
[Illustration: ROBERT NANTEUIL. BASILE FOUQUET
Size of the original engraving, 12⅞ × 9⅞ inches
In the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston]
[Illustration: ROBERT NANTEUIL. JEAN LORET
Size of the original engraving, 10⅛ × 7⅛ inches
In the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston]
The masterly portrait of _Turenne_, engraved in 1663, after a painting
by Philippe de Champaigne, is one of the engraver’s most vigorous
plates, of a size somewhat larger than had hitherto been his wont.
From this period date the life-size portraits, thirty-six of which
were completed before he died in 1678, the last four years of his life
being devoted entirely to these large plates--seven of them of the
King himself. They were obviously intended to be framed and hung above
the high wainscots used in those times, and although they do not show
Nanteuil at his best, and--in the majority of cases--are, in part, the
work of assistants, they are a remarkable performance.
Nanteuil established the tradition of portrait engraving in France once
and for all, and although his successors, profiting by his example,
have left us many superbly engraved plates, none of them were able to
combine the qualities of great engraver with great portraitist, which
make Nanteuil supreme in the history of portrait engraving.
The nineteenth century has produced three master portrait etchers. Of
what previous century can we say as much? Other portraits may possess
more charm, but none have a greater measure of dignity than those by
ALPHONSE LEGROS. He has been called a “belated old master,” and in his
portrait plates are combined the qualities which prove him to be a
master indeed--not old, in the sense of out of touch with his time, but
displaying the same qualities which make the portraits of Rembrandt or
Van Dyck so compelling and of such continuing interest.
_Cardinal Manning_--the triumph of spirit over flesh--simple, austere;
_G. F. Watts_, in which the gravity and beauty of old age is portrayed
as no one since Rembrandt has portrayed it, are plates which will
assure his artistic immortality.
MR. WHISTLER, when asked which of his etchings he considered the best,
is reported to have answered, “All.” Fortunately for us, in the case of
his portraits he has indicated his preference. “_One of my very best_”
is written beneath a proof of _Annie Haden_, now in the Lenox Library;
and Whistler, in the course of conversation with Mr. E. G. Kennedy,
told him that if he had to make a decision as to which plate was his
best, he would rest his reputation upon _Annie Haden_. It is the
culmination of that wonderful series to which belong such masterpieces
as _Becquet_, _Drouet_, _Finette_, _Arthur Haden_, _Mr. Mann_ and
_Riault, the Engraver_. Whistler himself never surpassed this portrait,
which for perfect balance, certainty of hand, and sheer charm, is not
only one of the most delightful portrait plates in the history of the
art, but one of the few successful representations of the elusive charm
of young girlhood.
[Illustration: J. A. McN. WHISTLER. ANNIE HADEN
Size of the original dry-point, 13⅞ × 8⅜ inches
In the Collection of Howard Mansfield, Esq.]
[Illustration: J. A. McN. WHISTLER. RIAULT, THE ENGRAVER
Size of the original dry-point, 8⅞ × 5⅞ inches
In the Collection of Howard Mansfield, Esq.]
Hardly less beautiful are the portraits of _Florence Leyland_,
standing, holding her hoop in her right hand, every line of the slender
figure rhythmic and beautiful; or of _Fanny Leyland_, seated, the
soft flounces of her white muslin dress indicated with the fewest and
most delicate lines; or _Weary_, lying back in her chair, with hair
outspread. _Weary_ suggests the _Jenny_ of Rossetti’s poem, but it is
a portrait of “Jo”--Joanna Heffernan--whom Whistler painted as _The
White Girl_ and _La Belle Irlandaise_, and of whom, in 1861, two years
previously, he had made a superb dry-point.
Of Whistler’s portraits of men, _Riault_ is assuredly one of the
finest, both in execution and in portrayal of character. The
concentration of the wood-engraver on his task is expressed with
convincing power, and those who mistakenly attribute to Whistler grace
at the expense of strength could hardly do better than study this
dry-point.
Could there be a greater contrast than the work of Whistler and ZORN?
Could anything better illustrate the infinite possibilities of the
art, the pliability of the medium to serve the needs of etchers as
dissimilar in method as in point of attack? With the fewest possible
lines (_slashed_, one might almost say, into the copper) Zorn evolves
a portrait of compelling power, vibrant with life. Mere speed counts
for little, and it is of small significance that a masterpiece such
as _Ernest Renan_ is the result of a single sitting of one hour only.
It was done in Renan’s studio in Paris, in April, 1892. “His friends,”
the artist relates, “came and asked me to make an etching of him. He
arranged for a sitting. He was very ill, but I sat studying him for a
little while, then took the plate and drew him. I asked him if it was a
characteristic pose and he replied, ‘No, I very seldom sit like this.’
But his wife came in and said, ‘You have caught him to perfection, it
is himself. When he is not watched he is always like that.’ She was
really touched by it.” What is significant in the portrait of _Renan_,
astounding, one might say, is that with lines so few Zorn has given
us not only the outer man, but a character study of profound insight.
Renan, sunk in his chair, the bulky body topped by the massive head,
the hair suggested with a mere handful of lines, was like a bomb-shell
to such print-collectors as previously were unacquainted with Zorn’s
work. It was, however, only one of a group of masterpieces with which
the artist made his début in America, in 1892: _Zorn and His Wife_,
_Faure_, _The Waltz_, _The Omnibus_, _Olga Bratt_, with its elusive
charm, and the piquant _Girl with the Cigarette_, and _Madame Simon_,
which still remains one of his most powerful portraits.
[Illustration: ANDERS ZORN. ERNEST RENAN
Size of the original etching, 9¼ × 13⅜ inches
In the Collection of the Author]
[Illustration: ANDERS ZORN. THE TOAST
Size of the original etching, 12⅝ × 10½ inches
In the Collection of Albert W. Scholle, Esq.]
[Illustration: ANDERS ZORN. MADAME SIMON
Size of the original etching, 9⅜ × 6¼ inches
In the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston]
[Illustration: ANDERS ZORN. MISS EMMA RASSMUSSEN
Size of the original etching, 7⅞ × 5⅞ inches
In the Collection of the Author]
_The Toast_ is etched from Zorn’s picture painted by him to
celebrate the thirtieth anniversary of the Society of the Idun, a
scientific and artistic society in Stockholm. Wieselgren, the President
of the Society, a Viking-like figure, is about to propose a toast;
beyond him, characterized with the fewest lines, are seen Nordenskjöld,
the Arctic explorer; Hildebrand, the archæologist; Axel Key, professor
of medicine; and Woern, the Minister of Finance. The plate has all the
freshness, all the spontaneity, of an etching done directly from life
and at a white heat.
Among his many portraits of women, it is difficult to make a selection.
_Miss Anna Burnett, seated at the Piano_, is charming. _Annie_, _Mrs.
Granberg_, and _Kesti_--each, in its own way, fascinates us; but if
one were to express a personal preference, it would be for _Miss Emma
Rassmussen_. The blond beauty of her hair, the fair, tender flesh,
sparkling eyes, and lips slightly open, showing the firm, small, even
teeth, are in perfect harmony. The line is more delicate than is the
artist’s wont, and both as a portrait and as an etching it is a lasting
delight.