What an amusing city is Munich, with its architectural follies! I do
not know another outside of France which seems to me so attractive.
Ludwig I. probably had a great love for memorials, and certainly, he
hesitated at nothing. It was he who wished to reproduce and bring
together in his capital, all the edifices which he had admired in the
course of his travels; so this pretty city resembles the "Rue des
Nations" of some universal exposition.
Do you love the Florentine style? Here is the library and its majestic
marble staircase leading to the "loggia dei Lanzi," copied exactly from
that of Florence; a little farther on, under the name of Königbau you
will see a reproduction of the famous Pitti Palace. If you prefer Roman
art, the arch of Constantine is close at hand, and you will also come
across a fifteenth-century dome. If it is Greek art that attracts you,
you may see the Propylæum of Athens, the Glyptothek in the Ionic style,
or the palace of Fine Arts in the Corinthian style: or better still,
near a consecrated wood, the Hall of Fame. If you dream of Venice, you
have only to listen to the fluttering wings of the pigeons of Saint
Mark's, who have, evidently, all migrated to Munich!
There are some buildings like cathedrals, high and loaded down with
sculptures, but they are of moulded terra-cotta. The Renaissance style
is well represented, the rococo abounds, Egyptian art, even, is not
forgotten. In order to commemorate a noble feat of arms, they have
erected a metal obelisk, modelled upon the monolith of Luxor, but this
one has not the merit of being a single casting of bronze.
The International Exposition of Painting, ostensible reason for our
journey, was, I think, very remarkable; it did honour to the group
of artists who organized it and brought into prominence the Bavarian
school of painting. But I am forced to admit that in spite of the
very conscientious accounts that I published in I cannot remember how
many journals, I recall only very confused memories of them. But I do
remember one painter, perhaps forgotten today, who was then at the
beginning of his career and was much talked of: Gabriel Max--I can
still see in my mind his lovely martyr, who, in the whiteness of death
seemed to sleep so easily upon the cross.
On the other hand, a visit to the Pinakothek made an ineffaceable
impression upon me. The Rubens collection above all seemed to me
superb: the artist triumphs there in all his fleshly glory--he is
jubilant, dazzling!
And what perfect taste was shown in the placing of the canvases! What
a sensible arrangement! As far as possible, each room held the works of
a single master grouped upon a favourable background and under a well
managed lighting. In this way the intensity of effect was doubled. One
experienced to the full the painter's charm, and the contrast between
one master and another was startling. For instance in the hall of Van
Dyck, as one entered after viewing the resplendent walls of the hall
of Rubens, the subdued colouring gave the impression of restful and
mysterious shadows, out of which seemed to steal wonderful white masks
of a distinction that is without equal. Then, too, the catalogue,
translated into French, did not lack amusement for us: one read such
things as these:
"The Virgin is seated at evening before an edifice: at her knee the
little Jesus seizes with the right hand the lung border of her robe."
"Vanity under the guise of a beautiful woman of luxurious form,
supporting herself with the left hand which holds a dying candle, upon
a round mirror."
"A wolf devours a lamb while a fox also enters there."
"A woman seated beside an ass which brays on the ground nursing her
infant."
"Two dogs quarrel with a calf's head."
"Portrait of the Elector Maximilian fully braced."
"St Martin on white horseback."
"The Christ, after having suffered death, receives graciously the four
repentant sinners."
It is a good thing to laugh a little!