SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS
Monograph Number Six in The Mentor Reading Course
Sir Joshua Reynolds was one of the greatest of English portrait painters; and as a painter of childhood he has no superior. He was a rapid worker, and it is estimated by some authorities that he finished as many as 3,000 portraits. His career was one long series of successes, and he made an immense fortune by his painting.
Reynolds was born in Devonshire, England, on July 16, 1723. Thomas Hudson was his first teacher. Then the young artist visited Italy. There he studied carefully the works of the old masters. He returned to London and almost immediately was accorded first place among the portrait painters of the day. At the same time he became one of the leading members of the famous Literary Club, among whose members were Doctor Samuel Johnson and Oliver Goldsmith, the authors, David Garrick, the leading actor of the time, and other men prominent in the fields of art and letters.
The British Royal Academy was founded in 1768, and its first president was Reynolds. There he distinguished himself by delivering his famous “Discourses” on art. With these he proved himself to be as much a master of words as of the brush.
Reynolds’ success and prosperity naturally made his less fortunate rivals jealous of him; at the same time his attitude towards some of them was not altogether generous. In particular his relations with Gainsborough were not pleasant. Nevertheless, Reynolds went to Gainsborough’s deathbed, and there was an apparent reconciliation.
In 1784, at the death of Ramsay, Reynolds was appointed painter to the king. Two years before a stroke of paralysis had attacked him; but he was able to resume his painting after a month of rest. In the summer of 1789, however, his sight began to fail. Nevertheless, he continued to practise his art until about the end of 1790. But from then on he began to sink gradually. He suffered for only a few months, and on February 23, 1792, passed peacefully away.
Sir Joshua Reynolds, though a great artist, lacked academic education, and therefore he never could draw the human figure properly. He sacrificed this ability to secure a thorough knowledge of the great paintings of the world, their faults and their excellencies.
He also had a tendency to tamper with his pigments. It is said that one day the famous American artist, Gilbert Stuart, was copying one of Reynolds’ fine heads in a very warm room. Suddenly he noticed that one eye on the painting seemed to be moving downward. At first he thought his imagination was playing him false; but finally he was convinced that the eye was moving. He quickly removed the painting to a cold room, and gradually worked the eye back in place. It was then that he discovered that his great predecessor had used wax in his pigments. This explained something that had baffled artists for years—the brilliant transparency of many of Reynolds’ colors.
PREPARED BY THE EDITORIAL STAFF OF THE MENTOR ASSOCIATION
ILLUSTRATION FOR THE MENTOR, VOL. 4, No. 4, SERIAL No. 104
COPYRIGHT, 1916, BY THE MENTOR ASSOCIATION, INC.
GREAT GALLERIES OF THE WORLD
THE NATIONAL GALLERY
LONDON
By JOHN C. VAN DYKE, Professor of the History of Art, Rutgers College
MENTOR GRAVURES
THE DOGE LOREDANO
By Giovanni Bellini
ARIOSTO
By Titian
THE DUCHESS OF MILAN
By Hans Holbein
MENTOR GRAVURES
SAINT GEORGE AND THE DRAGON
By Tintoretto
THE GUITAR LESSON
By Gerard Terborch
LADY COCKBURN AND CHILDREN
By Sir Joshua Reynolds
The National Gallery
Entered at the postoffice at New York, N. Y., as second-class matter. Copyright, 1916, by The Mentor Association, Inc.
THE MENTOR · DEPARTMENT OF FINE ARTS
APRIL 1, 1916
The National Gallery, whether the tourist sees it first or last in his trip around Europe, is sure to make an impression. It is one of the famous galleries of the world, and has a rarefied atmosphere about it, even to those who know the galleries by heart. The walk up the wide stone steps approaching the first room excites a wonder that is almost amazement. The pictures have a richness—a jewel quality about them—that seems preternaturally splendid. You have not perhaps noticed such depth and mellowness of color in other galleries. What does it mean? Well, in some cases it may mean merely that the pictures are framed under glass, and get a certain tone and richness from that; but it more often means that you are looking at very unusual pictures. The National Gallery is full of masterpieces.
THE VIRGIN AND CHILD, SAINT JOHN THE BAPTIST AND SAINT NICHOLAS OF BARI
By Raphael
SAINT HELENA—THE VISION OF THE CROSS
By Paolo Veronese (vay-ro-nay´-zee)
Where did they come from? Out of the famous private collections of England. When nobility dies without an heir, or the heir himself needs money, then the pictures collected by the art-loving elders of perhaps a dozen generations come by bequest to the National Gallery, or find their way to the auction room and are purchased for the gallery. Thus it is that the National Gallery has been the natural inheritor of the rich collections of England. It started less than a hundred years ago (in 1824) with the Angerstein collection, and has been growing ever since with gifts of collections such as those of Vernon, Wynn Ellis, Vaughan, Salting. If it is found necessary to bid for a picture at auction, a government grant or the subscriptions of wealthy art patrons, or both, generally carries the day against any private collector. Thus such famous pictures as Raphael’s “Ansidei Madonna,” Titian’s (tish´-an) “Ariosto,” Holbein’s “Duchess of Milan” were bought for the gallery at enormous prices—the Raphael bringing over $350,000, and the others some $150,000 each.
There are now about 3000 pictures in the gallery, though, of course, all of them are not hung at any one time. There is not enough wall space for that, though the building is in a chronic state of enlargement. New rooms are added from year to year, and new editions of the catalogue are being continually issued. The gallery is very well arranged and lighted, and very well managed. Management of a gallery seems very easy to the public because there is apparently no friction, but the director has his trials. And the pictures have their perils, not only from accidents, but from fanatical visitors. The greatest perils however, are from dust, gas, the tooth of time, and the hand of the careless cleaner. The pictures in the European galleries have suffered more from drastic scrubbing and reckless restoration than from all the other causes combined. The cleaning room has been the graveyard of many a masterpiece.