BEZZUOLI'S CHARACTER.
Here ends the anecdote of that famous portrait. Further on I will speak of others that I had the order for and could not make, and why I could not make them.
CHAPTER XVIII.
ONE OF MY COLLEAGUES—A MYSTERIOUS VOICE—THE GROUP OF THE "PIETÀ"—VERY CLEAR LATIN—A PROFESSOR WHO IGNORES THE 'DIVINA COMMEDIA'—COMPOSITION OF THE GROUP OF THE "PIETÀ"—DIGRESSION—A GOOD LESSON AND NERVOUS ATTACK—MANCINELLI AND CELENTANO.
But if some of my very dear colleagues set themselves against me on account of the great Haynau portrait, not knowing that I had refused to make his statue, others were alienated from me, I do not know for what reason. I will speak of one of them, to show how a most respectable artist and colleague of mine, having been led into error, chose strenuously to abide by it, and thus broke up a relation that one might call friendship; for esteem is the first bond that draws one together and creates love, and I esteemed this colleague of mine, and pitied him for the error into which he had fallen.
When Augusto Rivalta came from the school at Genoa (his birthplace) to complete his studies in sculpture in Florence, his masters, and he himself, had great faith in my school, and I was, with him as with all my scholars, an open and free expounder of those principles that I believe to be good, and to lead directly towards the beautiful, under the guidance of truth. Rivalta was always confiding and studious with me; and as by nature he is endowed with no common genius, he is to-day a professor and active master at our Academy of Fine Arts. Now it happened one day, during the early days that he was under my direction, that I saw hanging on his studio walls a bas-relief of a Madonna by that above-mentioned colleague of mine, and the head of Bartolini's "Fiducia in Dio." I thought it wise to warn my pupil of the error into which too often even tried artists have fallen, which is that of looking at and reproducing in their own works reminiscences of such originals hanging in their studios to attract poor artists. Therefore that morning my lesson consisted of the following words:—
HOW TO PRESERVE ONE'S ORIGINALITY.
"When the idea comes to you to make a statue, it forms itself naturally in your mind, and takes a movement and character all its own, be it ever so undecided and vague, as an idea always is, until it has been fixed materially into shape; but the idea is there (for him who has it), and is original. Then begins attentive study, and sometimes a long research to be able to find a live model who approaches nearest the idea that you have formed to yourself, and that you have already in your mind in embryo, or have indicated in your sketch. From the moment, however, that you have found the model or models, you must remain alone with them and your idea; no extraneous images must come between you and your work. I am afraid that those casts there facing me, will in some way take from the originality of the character and expression that you wish to give to your statue, and you will do well not to look at them. Let us understand, however, that I say not to look at them whilst you are at work on your statue: afterwards you may look at them and study them as much as you wish."