LE SUEUR
Whilst Poussin and Claude were working in Rome, two pupils of Vouet reaped the highest honours in France. Eustache Le Sueur (1617–1655), whom his compatriots in their incomprehensible over-estimation of his mediocre gifts have called the “French Raphael,” certainly strove to emulate the divine Urbinate; but how badly he succeeded in this endeavour is to be gathered from the fifty-two paintings, by the placing of which his memory is retained at the Louvre. What dignity there is in the simple flow of line in his designs, is completely ruined by the offensive crudeness of his colour. Even allowing for the inevitable fluctuations of taste in matters of art, it is difficult now to understand how enthusiasm could ever have been aroused by the works that were considered his masterpieces, St. Paul preaching at Ephesus (No. 560), which at the beginning of last century was valued at £10,000 (!), and the twenty-two Scenes from the Life of St. Bruno (Nos. 564–585), painted between 1645 and 1648 for the small cloister of the Carthusians in Paris. This series, which is a severe tax on the patience of the conscientious visitor, fills the whole of Gallery XII., whilst other paintings connected with it intrude into the adjoining room, which is consecrated to the brothers Le Nain.
PLATE XXXVIII.—CLAUDE GELLÉE, CALLED CLAUDE LORRAIN
(1600–1682)
FRENCH SCHOOL
No. 317.—VIEW OF A SEAPORT
(Vue d’un Port de Mer: Effet de Brume)
In the foreground, on the beach, are groups of men occupied with unloading merchandise and cattle. Sailing ships are at anchor in the port, and boats are floating on the rippling water. On the left a monumental staircase leads from the landing-steps to a palace, beyond which is seen a fort; a classic temple on the right. Sunset effect, the power of the sun being softened by a mist over the far distance.
Painted in oil on canvas.
Signed on a stone in the left foreground:—“CLAUDE in Roma, 1646”
3 ft. 10¾ in. × 4 ft. 11 in. (1·19 × 1·50.)
Before passing on to Vouet’s most famous pupil, Charles Le Brun, whose despotic power imposed upon French painting during the “grand siècle” its pompous rhetorical character, mention should be made of Sébastien Bourdon (1616–1671), who, but for his prolonged sojourn in Rome, which fed his ambition to excel in the “grand style,” would have been one of the most remarkable artists of his century. This conclusion is, at least, justified by his precious little painting of a group of Beggars (No. 76), which is perhaps unrivalled in French seventeenth-century art for quality of paint and appreciation of tone values; and by his excellent Portrait of the Philosopher René Descartes (No. 78), who was also painted by Frans Hals (No. 2383). In his treatment of scriptural and historical subjects he does not rise above the dull level of his contemporaries.