Woodcut. Lucas Cranach

The true Northern spirit still greets us in the woodcut productions of that period. Woodcut was used for subjects of wide popular interest, for Passion series, portraits, religious subjects, and all manner of illustration. Dürer had used the relief process extensively for such purposes, likewise Burgkmair, who was, with Dürer, one of the foremost designers for the extensive publications of Emperor Maximilian. Lucas Cranach elected the strong, emphatic woodcut for much of his graphic work, prominently employed in the service of the Reformation. An example of his work, this tournament scene, is a reminder of the times in which he dwelt, and an illustration of his vivid power of presentation, typically Northern with its crowded figures.

Other masters there are in plenty, whom we must neglect, as we shift our abode to Basle for a moment. We find ourselves here, about 1516, in the midst of a thriving publishing center. Enterprising printers seek to secure pleasing decorations and illustrations for their scientific and literary output. They look for a good draughtsman to design some tasteful headings and end-pieces, borders and initials, and are well pleased with the samples submitted by a young newcomer, by name Hans Holbein. At first the cutting of his designs offers some difficulties, but when the right man has appeared, when Hans Lützelburger has joined his skill to the genius of Holbein, their joint productions attain a peerless mastery. High summits in art always invite comparison; this is true of Dürer and Holbein, even though these two great German masters are so widely different from each other. Dürer is nowhere greater than in engraving, while Holbein excels in painting; both are masters of woodcut. Dürer, with his scholarly, analytical nature, ponders over the deep, essential meaning which underlies the multitude of his observations, and sets down his conclusions in types broadly generalized. His St. Jerome—to quote but one instance—is not so much a specific old man in his study as the expression of a mental attitude common to mankind generally. Holbein is more a man of impulse, quick to express himself in a direct manner full of life. He is more sensual, and has much feeling for pleasing form and a beautiful flow of lines. He accents the event itself more strongly than Dürer, who is given to express himself rather by association of ideas. It is a significant fact that Dürer chooses his subjects with preference from the figurative New Testament, with its parables, while Holbein prefers to illustrate the Old Testament, a book of essentially historical character. Every scene is plainly told and intensely human in Holbein’s Biblical illustrations, as well as in that masterpiece of his, the “Dance of Death.” We cannot but marvel at the feeling of spaciousness in these small prints, at the lifelike action of the expressive little figures, at the perfect harmony of these figures and their surroundings.

At the time of Dürer’s death, in 1528, the long period of warfare, devastation, and misery had begun which was to end only after the Thirty Years’ War. Emperor Maximilian was dead; Charles V had broken the power of France in Italy; his mercenaries had sacked Rome, and incidentally ruined Marcantonio, the Italian engraver. His promising school was dispersed. It was a period of decline, both north and south of the Alps.

From that time on, the successive influences of Italy, of the Netherlands, and of France sway the character of German art. A clever superficiality develops, which adapts itself to the characteristics of the art in vogue. Etching, the sister art of engraving, cannot boast any signal triumphs during this period of German art, although, from the early days of its adoption, it was used to a considerable extent by the Hopfer family. Dürer experimented with the process, but soon returned to engraving. The greatest German etcher of the following (seventeenth) century, Wenzel Hollar followed the Earl of Arundel to England, there to build up his fame.


VI
THE NETHERLANDS

The seventeenth century, which witnesses German art in its decline, brings about a wonderful flowering of art in the neighboring Netherlands. This country had passed from Burgundian rule to the Hapsburg dynasty. With the advent of Charles V, it passed under the rule of Spain. The master hand of that emperor had been able to curb the feeling of unrest and ferment caused by the Reformation, but the oppressive measures of his somber successor, Philip II, drove the Dutch and Flemish people to rise in arms for the defense of their liberties. A long, cruel war of emancipation ensued, and near its close there came a parting of the ways which bears directly upon our subject. In 1598, the division occurred; the southern—Flemish—provinces remained true to the House of Hapsburg, true also to the long-established Catholic faith. Consequently their art retained its strongly religious element, tinged with Italian traditions. The great exponent of this Flemish trend of art is Peter Paul Rubens, of whom more presently.

The northern (Dutch) provinces adopted the teachings of Calvin, and soon established their independence. Their churches were bare of any pictorial adornment; their art was forced, therefore, to develop mainly in the sphere of home life. If we term Rubens the leader of Flemish art, Rembrandt stands for the highest development of Dutch art. Between these two leaders lies a broad field with many blending, interweaving influences, many local characteristics, in this magnificent epoch. The only way to approach the subject in a few brief sentences is by considering as one vast unit the whole period of seventeenth-century art in the Netherlands, both Dutch and Flemish.