XXVI.—CLAUDE LORRAINE, Flight into Egypt.
And this decorative motive, which was the first consideration, remains to the last the most enduring feature of art. The history of a marble or a picture may be lost; its subject or theme may be forgotten; what it meant or signified to a past generation may be incomprehensible to a present generation; but what it looks is substantially the same for all times and all peoples. What, I wonder, makes the glory of the “Venus of Milo”—the fact that she is a Venus? It has been gravely questioned, is still questioned, just what character that figure is intended to personify; but it has never been doubted that it is a wonderful piece of line and form—something beautiful to look upon. What makes the glory of Titian’s “Sacred and Profane Love”? There is nothing either sacred or profane about it; the title is a misnomer—something attached to the picture long after the painter’s death—and no one knows what Titian intended to say in the picture. But is the picture less beautiful for that? It is a splendid panel of form and color; any name or no name could not render it less splendid. Its decorative quality is quite perfect. All those altar-pieces, frescoes, and mosaics in the Italian churches—how much meaning have they and their sacred subjects for the unbelieving art-lover of to-day! Very little indeed; but how beautiful they are to look upon just as pictures! (Plates 23 and 27). Who really cares to-day for the characters of Lear, Hamlet, and Macbeth as compared with the deathless language of their decorative setting! Who does not care for Shakespeare’s jewelled sentences!
It is the common experience of art-lovers that the more they study pictures the more certainly do they lose interest in the theme or narrative illustrated. The historical or poetical incident portrayed fades into insignificance beside well-drawn forms and impressive schemes of color. No one who knows much about painting ever looks twice for the meaning of a Watteau or a Lancret group. The only meaning of it lies in its vivacity and gayety expressed in color and handling. Even where the meaning is important, as in Reynolds’s “Lady Cockburn and Family” (Plate [25]) or Leighton’s “Summer Moon,” it is not possible to overlook or ignore the intertwining and blending of the group in both form and color, which makes it so attractive decoratively.
Such in brief is the artist’s view of art. It is firmly based upon the decorative, though all artists do not advocate it to the extinction of every other feature of the painting. On the contrary there are many who believe in sentiment, feeling, and emotional expression as the final aim. And some there are who stickle for the value of history, archæology, and story, as others for the value of the natural and the real. Indeed, there are several kinds of painting, representing several different points of view, and if we would cultivate catholicity of taste we should consider them all. There is a large body of intelligent people in this world who are even heretical enough to believe that art has some value as illustration; and since we have given the painter’s contention, perhaps it would be as well that we now state the case for the other side.
CHAPTER VI
SUBJECT IN PAINTING
It has been intimated, more than once in these lectures, that the artist, deep down in his heart, has no great respect for the public’s taste concerning works of art. He has always arrogated to himself and his fellows the exclusive right of saying what was and what was not art; and he would have us believe that after all art is made only for the appreciation of artists. Such a feeling is comforting and comfortable, no doubt. It possibly pervades branches of industry other than the arts. The shoemaker probably feels that he knows more about shoes than the people that wear them and the cook more about dinners than the people that eat them; but neither of them would contend that shoes were made only for shoemakers or dinners only for cooks. Nor can the contention of art exclusively for the artist be made good save in the extravagant atmosphere of the art-school. Unless the picture appeals to someone without the studio, unless it is accepted by someone in the outside world, its excuse for being would seem to be very slight. The work may please the worker and he may be as absorbed and happy in his occupation as a child making sand houses on the sea-shore; but in neither case is energy put to a profitable purpose. An author writes a book to be read by the public, and an orator speaks to be heard by the public; why should not a painter paint to be seen by the public?
XXVII.—TINTORETTO, Marriage in Cana, S. M. della Sa’ute, Venice.