EUROPEAN SCULPTURE FROM MICHAEL ANGELO TO CANOVA.
Not only Italian artists attempted to follow the great sculptor of Italy, but those of other nations flocked to Rome, and whatever ideas they may have had before reaching that city they seemed to lose them all and to aim simply at one thing—to be Michaelangeloesque.
Giovanni da Bologna (1529-1608) was born in Douai, in Flanders, and was called Il Fiammingo for this reason. Giovanni was intended for a notary by his father, who planned his education with that end in view; but the boy's passion for sculpture was so great that the father was obliged to yield to it, and placed him under the instruction of a sculptor named Beuch, who had studied in Italy. Later Giovanni went to Rome, and finally settled in Florence, where his most important works remain.
He was an imitator of Michael Angelo, and one of his best imitators; but when his works are compared with those of the great master, or with the masterpieces of the fifteenth century, we see a decline in them. In religious subjects Giovanni was not at home; his most successful works were those which represented sentiment or abstract ideas, because on them he could lavish his skill in execution, and use ornaments that did not suit the simplicity of religious subjects. In the Loggia de' Lanzi, at Florence, there are two groups by him, the Rape of the Sabines and Hercules and Nessus. In the Piazza della Signoria is his excellent statue of Duke Cosmo I., and in the Uffizi Gallery a bronze statue of Mercury. The Rape of the Sabines is his masterpiece, and the Mercury is one of the best works of its kind since the days of classic art. It is the favorite Mercury of the world, and has been frequently copied. It is seen in many galleries and collections in its original size, and a small copy is much used in private houses. (Fig. 109.)
Giovanni was especially happy in his designs for fountains, and that which he erected in Bologna, in 1564, in front of the Palazzo Pubblico, is a splendid work of this kind. The statue of Neptune at its summit is stately and free in its action; the children are charming and life-like, and the Sirens at the base give an harmonious finish and complete the outline with easy grace.
He also erected a magnificent fountain in the island of the Boboli Gardens. In the Palazzo Vecchio is a marble group by Giovanni representing Virtue conquering Vice. At Petraja there is a beautiful Venus crowning a fountain remarkable for grace and delicacy, and, all in all, his works prove him to have been the best sculptor of his own time. Tuscany may claim him and be proud of him, for he was far more her son than that of his native Flanders.
Giovanni da Bologna was far less successful in reliefs than in statues, as may be seen in the bronze gates to the Cathedral of Pisa, which he made in the last years of his life. In his character this master was attractive and much beloved by his friends. One of them wrote of him: "The best fellow in the world, not in the least covetous, as he shows by his poverty; filled with a love of glory, and ambitious of rivalling Michael Angelo."
Fig. 109.—Mercury.
By Giovanni da Bologna.
Giovanni decorated a chapel in the Church of the Annunziata with several reliefs in bronze and with a crucifix; he not only wished to be buried here himself, as he was, but he also desired to provide a place of burial for any of his countrymen who might die in Florence. The chapel is called that of the Madonna del Soccorso.
The decline of sculpture in Italy at this period makes its study so unpromising that it is a pleasure to turn to France, where the works of Jean Goujon show that he had the true idea of sculpture in relief. From 1555 to 1562 this sculptor was employed on the works at the Louvre, and during the massacre of St. Bartholomew he was shot while on a scaffold quietly working at a bas-relief on that palace.
Goujon was an architect as well as a sculptor, and also a medal engraver, as is shown by the curious and rare medal which he made for Catherine de' Medici. Many of his works are preserved in different parts of France, and some bas-reliefs in the Museum of the Louvre are excellent specimens of his style.
One also sees in France many works by Germain Pilon, who died in 1590. He executed the monument to Francis I., and took a part in that of Henry II. and Catherine de' Medici at the Church of St. Denis. He was the sculptor of the group of the three Graces in the Louvre, which formerly bore an urn containing the heart of Henry II., and was in the Church of the Celestines.
But the sculptors of France at this time are not of such interest as to hold our attention long. There was a certain amount of spirit in their decorations of palaces and tombs, but there were no men of great genius, and no splendid works upon which we can dwell with pleasure or profit.
In Germany, too, while there was much activity in sculpture, and public fountains and luxurious palaces and rich ornaments employed many artists, yet there was no originality or freshness in these works, and they fell below those of the past. Bronzes are still made at Nuremberg, but they only serve to make one regret that they are so inferior to those of earlier days; and nowhere in all Germany does any one artist stand out and present a man to be studied in his works or remembered as one of the gifted of the earth. And yet a list of the names of German sculptors of this time would be very long, for all over the land churches were being decorated, monuments built, and statues and fountains erected.
Fig. 110.—Relief by Berruguete.
Valladolid.
In England the best sculpture of the sixteenth century was seen in the portrait statues on monuments, and we find no great artists there of whom to give an account.
In Spain Alonso Berruguete (1480-1561), who was the most eminent artist of his time, had introduced the Italian manner. He went to Italy about 1503, and studied in Rome and Florence during seventeen years. This was at the time when Italian sculpture was at the height of its excellence; and Berruguete returned to Spain filled with the purest and best conceptions of what art should be, and the ends it should serve. He has been called the Michael Angelo of Spain, because he was an architect, painter, and sculptor.
Upon his return to Spain he was appointed painter and sculptor to Charles V. Among his most celebrated works in sculpture are the reliefs in the choir of the Cathedral at Toledo; the altar in the Church of San Benito el Real at Valladolid (Fig. 110), for which he was paid forty-four hundred ducats, and his sculptures in the Collegio Mayor at Salamanca. His final work was a monument to the Cardinal and Grand Inquisitor, Don Juan de Tavera, which is in the Church of the Hospital of St. John at Toledo. The sarcophagus is ornamented by reliefs from the story of John the Baptist, which are executed in an excellent manner, simple and expressive.
Other Spanish sculptors were Esteban Jordan, an eminent wood-carver, Gregorio Hernandez (1566-1636), who has been called "the sculptor of religion." His works are so full of a spirit of devotion that they seem to have been executed under an inspiration. Hernandez was very devout in his life, and did many works of charity; he often provided decent burial for the very poor who died without friends who could bury them.
Many of his works have been removed from the chapels for which they were designed, and are now in the Museum of Valladolid, where they are not as effective as when placed in their original positions. He is superior to other Spanish sculptors in his representation of nude figures and in the grandeur of his expression.
Juan de Juni (died 1614) studied in Italy, and acquired much mannerism; his works are seen in Valladolid.
Juan Martinez Montañes (died 1650) was a famous sculptor, and excelled in figures of children and cherubs. His conceptions had much beauty and depth of feeling, and his draperies were most graceful; and to this power of thinking out clearly and well the subject he wished to represent he added the ability to do his work in an artistic manner, and to give it an elegance of finish without taking away its strength. A Conception by him, in the Cathedral of Seville, is a noble work, and in the university church of the same city there is an altar which is one of his important works. Other sculptures by Montañes are in the Museum of Seville.
The great Alonso Cano (1601-1667) was a pupil of Montañes in sculpture, and, like so many other artists of his time, was a painter and architect as well as a sculptor. His personal history is very peculiar. He was a man of violent temper, and was often involved in serious quarrels. He was obliged to flee from Granada to Madrid on account of a duel, and when his wife was found murdered in her bed he was suspected of the crime. In spite of all this he took priest's orders, and was appointed to a canonry in the Cathedral of Granada; but on account of his temper he was deprived of this office by the chapter of the cathedral. He was so angry at this that he would do no more work for the cathedral.
He devoted the remainder of his life to religious and charitable works. He gave away the money he earned as soon as he received it, and when he had no money to give away he was in the habit of making drawings, which he signed and marked with a suitable price; these he gave to the person he desired to assist, and recommended some person to whom application to buy the work could be made. After his death a large number of these charitable works was collected.
He hated Jews with such hatred that he could not endure to look at one, and many strange stories are told of him in connection with these people.
He loved his chisel better than his brush, and was accustomed to say that when weary he carved for rest. One of his pupils expressed great surprise at this, when Cano answered, "Blockhead, don't you perceive that to create form and relief on a flat surface is a greater service than to fashion one shape into another?"
The most beautiful sculpture by Cano which remains is a Virgin about a foot high in the Sacristy of the Cathedral of Granada, where there are several other statuettes by him. These are colored in a manner which the Spaniards call "estofado;" it has the effect to soften the whole appearance of the works, like an enamel. At the entrance of the choir of the cathedral there are two colossal busts by Cano; they are grand works, and are called Adam and Eve.
Pedro Roldan (1624-1700), born at Seville, is an interesting sculptor because of his work, and on account of his being the last one whose manner was like that of Juni and Hernandez. His first celebrated work was the high-altar in the chapel of the Biscayans in the Franciscan convent. When the Caridad, or Hospital of Charity, was restored, Roldan executed the last great work in painted sculpture; it was an immense piece for the centre of the retablo of the high-altar of the church, and represented the Entombment of Christ.
Seville abounds in his works, and he executed bas-reliefs in stone for the exterior of the Cathedral at Jaen. He was so devoted to his art that he felt every moment to be lost that was not spent in its service. He married a lady of good family, and lived in the country; when obliged to go to Seville he was accustomed to carry a lump of clay, and model from it as he rode along. Roldan was not by any means the best of Spanish sculptors, but he had great skill in the composition of his works, and the draperies and all the details were carefully studied. His daughter, Doña Luisa Roldan, studied sculpture under her father's instruction, and became a good artist; he was accustomed to allow her to superintend her studio and his pupils. She often aided him by her suggestions, and on one occasion, when a statue that he had made was rejected, she pointed out to him certain anatomical defects, which he remedied, and the whole appearance of the work was so changed that it was thought to be new, and was accepted for the place for which it had been ordered.
The works executed by Doña Luisa were principally small figures of the Virgin, the Adoration of the Shepherds, and kindred subjects. Several of these were presented to King Charles II., and he was so pleased by them that he ordered a life-size statue of St. Michael for the Church of the Escorial. She executed this to his satisfaction, and he then appointed her sculptress in ordinary to the king. She died at Madrid in 1704, surviving her father but four years. She left works in various convents and churches.
In Italy at the beginning of the seventeenth century a new era in sculpture was inaugurated. Art was now required to serve the Church in the way of appealing to sentiments and feeling in a far coarser and more sensational a manner than formerly. Painting was suited to these purposes far more than sculpture, and it had been raised to great heights, in Spain, by Murillo, in the North by Rubens and his followers, and in Italy by numerous masters.
Lübke says of this period: "All that was now demanded of art was effect and feeling at any price. The one was attained through the other. A passionate excitement pulsates throughout all artistic works; the ideal repose of the former altar-pieces no longer satisfied. Longing, devotional ardor, passionate rapture, enthusiastic ecstasy—these are the aims of the new art. No longer the solemn dignity of the saint, but the nervous visions of enraptured monks, are its ideal. It delights in thrilling delineations of martyrdom, seeking to render such scenes as effective and touching as possible. A desire for substantial power, a political-religious tendency, had taken possession of art, and had adapted it to its own objects. That, under such circumstances, painting reaches a new and truly artistic importance may be traced above all to the great masters who now cultivated the art, and still more to the tone of the age, which promoted it in a rare measure.... The same spirit, however, which imparted such genuine importance to painting produced the ruin of sculpture. This epoch, more than any other, is a proof that the greatest men of talent, appearing in a perverted age, are carried by their very genius all the more certainly to ruin. All that, in a more favorable period, would have raised them to be stars in the art firmament, now made them fall like some ignis fatuus, the brilliant light of which owes its illusory existence only to miasma. This striking fact appears, at first sight, inexplicable; but it is easy to understand, if we consider the different character of the two arts. Plastic art had formerly emulated painting, and thus, especially in relief, had suffered unmistakable injury to its own peculiar nature. At that time, however, painting itself was full of architectural severity and plastic nobleness of form. Now, when everything depended on striking effect and speaking delineation of passionate emotions, it was compelled to have recourse to naturalistic representation, to freer arrangements and to more striking forms that emulated reality. If, however, sculpture, which could not keep pace with its rival in the enamelled coloring and mysterious charm of the chiaro-oscuro which it brought into the field, would, in anywise, do the same as painting, it was compelled to plunge regardlessly into the same naturalism of forms and into the same bold display of passion with which painting produced such grand effects. And this sculpture did without the slightest scruple, and in this lack of an artistic conscience its whole glory perished. It is true in this passion for excited compositions an excess of splendid works were produced; it is true immense resources were expended, and able artists were employed; but such inner hollowness stares at us with inanimate eye from the greater number of these works that we turn from them with repugnance, and even often with disgust."
The artist who first met this new demand upon sculpture, and may be called the founder of a new style, was Giovanni Lorenzo Bernini (1598-1680), a very gifted man. When but ten years old this remarkable genius was known as a prodigy in art, and it was at this early age that his father took him to Rome. Pope Paul V. was soon interested in him, and Cardinal Barberini assisted him in his studies; from this fortunate beginning all through his life good fortune attended his steps. He lived through the pontificate of nine popes, and was always in favor with the reigning head of the Church. This gave him the opportunity to fill Rome with his works, and he imprinted himself upon the art of the Eternal City; no artist since the time of Michael Angelo held such sway, and Bernini acquired his power easily, while the grand Michael Angelo was disputed at every step, and fought a long, hard battle before he was allowed to take the place which was so clearly his by right.
The fame of Bernini extended to other lands, and he was invited to France, where he went when sixty-eight years old, accompanied by one of his sons and a numerous retinue. He was loaded with favors, and received large sums of money and many valuable presents. In Rome, too, he was much favored; he held several church benefices, and his son was made a Canon of Santa Maria Maggiore; and it was in this church that Bernini was buried with great magnificence, as became his position and his wealth, for he left the immense fortune of four hundred thousand Roman crowns.
Bernini had great versatility of talent, a remarkable imagination and power of conceiving his subjects clearly, and, more than all, he had marvellous power of execution and compelling his marble to show forth his thought. It has been said that marble was like wax or clay beneath his hand. He was subject to no rules; indeed, he believed that an artist must set aside all rules if he would excel. This sounds very fascinating, but a study of Bernini's works will show that it is a deceitful maxim. A man of small talent could do nothing in this way, and even Bernini, who without doubt had great gifts, often failed to make up in any way for the sins against rules of which he was guilty. Westmacott, in his writing upon sculpture, says it would have been better for art if Bernini had never lived; and it is true that in his struggle for effect he was an injury rather than a benefit to the art of his own day and the succeeding years.
The worst defect in the sculpture of Bernini is his treatment of the human body. At times he exaggerates the muscular power beyond all resemblance to nature, and again he seems to leave out all anatomy and soften the body to a point that far exceeds possibility. This softness is seen in his Apollo and Daphne, which shows the moment when she is suddenly changed into a laurel-tree in order to escape the pursuit of the young god. This group is in the Villa Borghese, at Rome; it was executed when Bernini was but eighteen years old, and near the close of his life he declared that he had made little progress after its production.
But he reached the height of this objectionable manner in his representation of the Rape of Proserpine, which is in the Villa Ludovisi. The Pluto is a rough, repulsive man, with whom no association of a god can be made, and the Proserpine is made a soulless, sensual figure, so far from attractive in a pure sense that we are almost willing that Pluto should carry her to some region from which she is not likely to come back. At the same time we are sorry not to provide her with an ointment for the blue marks which the big hands of Pluto are making on her soft flesh. The plain truth is, that this work makes a low and common thing of a subject which could be so treated as to be a "thing of beauty" in a charming sense. (Fig. 111.)
Fig. 111.—Rape of Proserpine.
By Bernini.
Bernini executed a statue of St. Bibiana for the church of that saint at Rome, and one of St. Longinus in one of the niches to the dome of St. Peter's; he also made the designs for the one hundred and sixty-two statues in the colonnades of St. Peter's, and for the decorations of the bridge of St. Angelo; in such works, almost without exception, he chose some moment in the lives of the persons represented that called for a striking attitude and gave an opportunity for an effect that is often theatrical. As a mere decoration such statues have a certain value of an inferior sort; but as works of art, as intellectual efforts, they are worthless. However, this decorative effect, as it is seen on the façade of the Lateran, where the figures stand out against the sky, or on the bridge of St. Angelo, is not by any means to be despised; only we cannot call a sculptor a great artist when he can do nothing finer than this.
Some of Bernini's works in which he shows intense suffering have more genuine feeling, and are finer in artistic qualities. One of these is Pietà, in the chapel of St. Andreas Corsini in the Lateran. But he frequently goes beyond the bounds of good taste, as, for example, on the monument to Pope Urban VIII., in St. Peter's, where he represents Death with his bony hand writing the inscription on the panel; this is truly terrible, and not less so is another Death upon the monument of Alexander VII., raising the marble curtain before the entrance to the vault, as if he were inviting one to walk in. Many objections can be made to his draperies. He exaggerated the small curtains seen on some ancient tombs until they were huge objects of ugliness; the drapery upon his figures is so prominently treated that instead of being a minor object it sometimes seems like the principal one; it no longer serves to conceal forms, and at the same time show their grace and motion, but it is inflated, fluttering, grotesque in form and quite absurd when compared with statues in which it answers its true purpose.
Charles I. of England heard so much of Bernini that he desired to have a statue of himself executed by this sculptor; three of Vandyck's portraits of the king were sent to him, and the likeness of the statue was so satisfactory to the monarch that he sent the artist six thousand crowns and a ring worth as much more.
Bernini executed a colossal equestrian statue of Constantine for the portico of St. Peter's; he made another of Louis XIV., which was changed into a Marcus Curtius, and sent to Versailles. He also executed the fountain in the Piazza Navona, at Rome, which is one of his exaggerated works.
François Duquesnoy (1594-1646) was born at Brussels, and was known in Rome as Il Fiammingo. The Archduke Albert sent him to Rome to study, and he was a contemporary of Bernini. When his patron died Duquesnoy was left without means, and was forced to carve small figures in ivory for his support. His figures of children, which were full of life and child-like expression, became quite famous. An important work of his in this way is the fountain of the Manneken-Pis, at Brussels.
His masterpiece is a colossal statue of St. Andrew in the Church of St. Peter's; it occupied him five years, and is one of the best works of modern art. His statue of St. Susanna in the Church of Santa Maria di Loreto, in Rome, is simple and noble, and is much admired. Little is known of this artist's life, and it is said that he was poisoned by his brother when on his way to France.
There was a goodly company of sculptors following Bernini, but none whose works or life was of sufficient importance or interest to demand our attention here, and we will pass to the sculpture of France, where the arts were less devoted to the service of the Church and more to the uses of kings, princes, and noblemen. The court of France was devoted to pomp and pleasure, and sculpture was used for the glorification of the leaders in all its follies. In one sense this is more agreeable than the art in Italy which we have been considering, for nothing can be more disagreeable than a false religious sentiment in art; it is only when the artist is filled with true devotion and feels deeply in his own soul all that he tries to express in his work that religious representations can appeal to us agreeably or benefit us by their influence.
Simon Guillain (1581-1658) is especially interesting as the sculptor of the statue of Louis XIV. as a boy, which is in the Louvre; those of his parents are also there; formerly they decorated the Pont au Change. Other works by this master are in the same museum.
Jacques Sarrazin (1588-1660) is only known by his works, which are now in the Louvre, of which a bronze bust of the Chancellor Pierre Séguier is worthy of notice.
François Anguier (1604-1669) was born at Eu, in Normandy, and was the son of a carpenter, who taught his son to carve in wood at an early age. When still quite young François went to Paris to study, and later to Rome. He became one of the first artists of his time in France, and was a favorite of the king, Louis XIII., who made him keeper of the gallery of antiquities, and gave him apartments in the Louvre. Most of his important works were monuments to illustrious men. His copies of antique sculptures were very fine.
Michel Anguier (1612-1686) was a brother of the preceding, with whom he studied until they both went to Rome. Michel remained there ten years, and was employed with other artists in St. Peter's and in some palaces. In 1651 he returned to Paris, and assisted François in the great work of the tomb of the Duke de Montmorenci at Moulins.
Michel executed a statue of Louis XIII., which was cast in bronze. He adorned the apartments of Queen Anne of Austria in the Louvre, and for her executed the principal sculptures in the Church of Val de Grace; a Nativity in this church is his best work. His sculptures are seen in various churches, and he also executed statues of ancient gods and vases for garden ornaments. He was a professor in the Academy of Arts in Paris, and wrote lectures on sculpture.
François Girardon (1630-1715), born at Troyes, was a protégé of the Chancellor Séguier. Louis XIV. gave him a pension, by which he was enabled to study in Rome, and after his return to France the king gave him many commissions. The monument to Cardinal Richelieu in the Church of the Sorbonne is from the hand of this sculptor. Perhaps his best-known work is the Rape of Proserpine at Versailles. He made an equestrian statue of Louis XIV., which was destroyed in the Revolution; a model of it in bronze is in the Louvre. His bust of Boileau is a strong, fine work. Many of his sculptures were destroyed by the revolutionists.
A devoted follower of Bernini was Pierre Puget (1622-1694). His works are seen at the Louvre and at Versailles. His group of Milo of Crotona endeavoring to free himself from the claws of the lion is full of life and is natural, but the subject is too repulsive to be long examined; his Perseus liberating Andromeda is more agreeable, and is noble in its forms and animated in expression. His Alexander and Diogenes is in relief, and is effective and picturesque.
Antoine Coysevox (1640-1720) was born at Lyons, and manifested his artistic talent very early in life. Before he was seventeen years old he had distinguished himself by a statue of the Virgin, and progressed rapidly in his studies, which he made in Paris. In 1667 he was engaged by Cardinal Furstenburg to go to Alsace to decorate his palace; this occupied him four years. When he again went to Paris he became a very eminent artist. He executed a statue of Louis XIV., and received a commission from the province of Bretagne for an equestrian statue of the same monarch.
Among his best works are the tomb of Cardinal Mazarin; the tomb of the great Colbert in the Church of St. Eustache; the monument of Charles le Brun in the Church of St. Nicolas; the statue of the great Condé; the marble statue of Louis XIV., in the Church of Notre Dame, and others. In the tomb of Mazarin he showed fine powers of construction and excellence of design. The kneeling figure of the minister is a dignified statue and well executed; the statues in bronze of Prudence, Peace, and Fidelity, and the marble figures of Charity and Religion are each and all noble works, and free to a remarkable degree from the mannerisms and faults of his time.
Nicolas Coustou (1658-1733) was a nephew and pupil of Coysevox. He took the grand prize at Paris, and went to Rome to study when he was twenty-three years old. He made many copies of the antique. After his return to France he was much employed. His chief work was a colossal representation of the Junction of the Seine and the Marne. He also made for the city of Lyons a bronze statue representing the river Saone. Some of his sculptures are in the Church of Notre Dame.
Guillaume Coustou (1678-1746), brother of Nicolas, also gained the grand prize and went to Rome, and on his return made a fine reputation. Much of his best work was for the gardens of Marly; he executed a bronze statue of the Rhone at Lyons; a bas-relief of Christ with the Doctors, at Versailles, and statues of Louis XIV. and Cardinal Dubois, in the Museum of French Monuments.
Jean Baptiste Pigalle (1714-1785) is the last French sculptor of whom I shall speak here. He was born in Paris, and gained his first fame by a statue of Mercury; but his masterpiece was the tomb of Marshal Moritz of Saxony, in the Church of St. Thomas, at Strasburg. The soldier is represented in his own costume, just as he wore it in life, about to enter a tomb, on one side of which stands a skeleton Death, and on the other a mourning Hercules. A statue representing France tries to hold him back, and a Genius attends on him with an inverted torch. There are many accessories of military emblems and trophies. There have been several engravings made from this tomb, the best part of which is the figure of the Marshal.
Pigalle was a favorite with Mme. Pompadour, of whom he made a portrait statue. She employed him to do many works for her. His best monument in Paris is that of the Comte d'Harcourt, in the Church of Notre Dame.
In the Netherlands, as in Italy, the painting of the time had a great effect upon sculpture, and it was full of energy, like the pictures of the Rubens school; at the same time there remained traces of the traditions of former days, and while a great change had come since the days of Vischer, there was still a firm adherence to nature, and no such affectations and mannerisms existed here as were seen in the works of Bernini and his followers in Italy and France.
Fig. 112.
Caryatide.
Quellinus.
One of the ablest sculptors of his day was Arthur Quellinus, who was born at Antwerp in 1607. He studied under Duquesnoy, and was especially happy in his manner of imagining his subjects, and of avoiding the imitation of others or a commonplace treatment of his own. The magnificent Town Hall of Antwerp was commenced in 1648, and Quellinus received the commission to decorate it with plastic works. His sculptures are numerous, both on the interior and exterior of the edifice. In the two pediments he introduced allegorical representations of the power of the city of Antwerp, especially in her commerce. These compositions are picturesque in their arrangement, but the treatment is such as belongs to sculpture; in one of these a figure which represents the city is enthroned like a queen, and is surrounded by fantastic sea-gods, who offer their homage to her. (Fig. 112.)
We cannot give a list of many detached works by Quellinus, but one of the best of the old monuments in Berlin is attributed to him. It is the tomb of Count Sparr in the Marienkirche.
At the present day Berlin is a city of much artistic importance, and the beginning of its present architectural and sculptural prominence may be dated at about the end of the seventeenth century, not quite two hundred years ago. One of the most influential artists of that time was Andreas Schlüter (1662-1714), who was born in Hamburg. His father was a sculptor of no prominence, but he took his son with him to Dantzig, where many Netherlandish artists were employed upon the buildings being constructed there. Andreas Schlüter was naturally gifted, and he devoted himself to the study of both architecture and sculpture, at home and later in Italy. Before he was thirty years old he was employed in important affairs in Warsaw, and in 1694 he was summoned to Berlin, where he executed the plastic ornaments of the Arsenal; the heads of the Dying Warriors above the windows in the court-yard are remarkable works. They are very fine when regarded only as excellent examples of good sculpture, and they are very effective placed as they are, for they seem to tell the whole tragic story of what a soldier's life and fate must often be (Fig. 113).
Fig. 113.—Heads of Dying Warriors.
By Schlüter.
However, the masterpiece of this sculptor is the equestrian statue of the Great Elector for the long bridge at Berlin, which was completed in 1703 (Fig. 114). Lübke says of this: "Although biassed as regards form by the age which prescribed the Roman costume to ideal portraits of this kind, the horseman on his mighty charger is conceived with so much energy, he is filled with such power of will, he is so noble in bearing and so steady in his course, that no other equestrian statue can be compared with this in fiery majesty. Equally masterly is the arrangement of the whole, especially the four chained slaves on the base, in whom we gladly pardon a certain crowding of movements and forms."
Fig. 114.—The Great Elector.
By Schlüter.
Schlüter also made a statue of the Elector Frederic III., which is now in Königsberg. Besides his works in sculpture he was the architect of the royal palaces at Potsdam, Charlottenburg, and Berlin, and there are many sculptures by him at these places. When he was thus in an important position and at the height of professional prosperity he met with a sad misfortune, from the effects of which he never recovered. A chime of bells had been purchased in Holland, and Schlüter was commissioned to arrange an old tower for their reception. He carried it higher than it had been, and was proceeding to finish it, when it threatened to fall, and had to be pulled down. On account of this Schlüter was dismissed from his position as court architect; and though his office of sculptor was left to him his power was gone, and he was broken down in spirit. He was called to St. Petersburg by Peter the Great, and died soon after. Now, the verdict of judges is that he was one of the greatest artists of his age, and that his works, both in sculpture and architecture, belong to the noblest productions of his century.
