[6]. Epigram here being used in the old Greek sense.
[7]. Now dead.
Durer and Rembrandt etched, and Mr. Whistler etches from Nature direct, not impertinently—there is no other word for it—tampering with other men’s work. But the public will buy these reproductions, and an artificial value is thus given to them, and the dealers will of course encourage whatever pays. |Print-sellers.| One etching by Rembrandt himself is worth all these reproductions of pictures by engraving, etching, mezzo-tint, or photo-etching, because it is an original work of art, the outcome of the loving study of nature. Not long ago a letter appeared in one of the literary “weeklies,” complaining of the stamping of photogravures by the Print-sellers' Association. The obvious answer to this print-seller’s letter is, of course, that with the works of living painters, the style of reproduction rests with the painter, and if the artist is satisfied with photo-etching, what has any one else to say—painters are the best judges of these things. Very few painters we know would entrust the reproduction of their pictures to etchers or engravers, or would countenance the publication of another man’s view of their work. We have seen photographs of Whistler’s Sarasate, but never engravings of it. With bad paintings on the other hand, the engraving of them has often made the painter’s name as well as the engraver’s. We could cite an example of a living painter who owes his reputation chiefly to the engravings of his works, and poor things they are even when embellished by the process. At the time this discussion was raging amongst the philistines, it was gravely asserted that “engravings always rose in price,” and this was given as a reason for buying them. Have the engravings of Mr. Landseer’s pictures risen in price! Ask the poor subscribers to the first copies. Will the engravings of Doré’s works rise in price? Quien sabe? If the reader is under any such erroneous idea, let him attend a few sales of engravings in London, and he will see proofs of etchings and engravings knocked down for a few shillings.
Van Ostade.
Leaving with regret the great Rembrandt, we pass over several smaller but often-quoted names, the most influential name we come to is Van Ostade, another naturalist of great power, of whom we have already spoken. |De Hooghe.| Next we come to De Hooghe. This is the man who first really gripped thoroughly and expressed truly on canvas the mystery and poetry of the open air. There are two specimens (courtyards) of this wonderful painter’s work at the National Gallery. They are an education in themselves, and are well worth long and careful study for hours, indeed there are few pictures more worthy of study. There they hang, fresh as nature and beautiful as paint can express, good, valuable for all time—why? Because the painter has known how to give the sentiment of plein air. There they hang true and lovely, pictures of Dutch life in the seventeenth century. No history can come up to them in historic value, none can be so true.
Cuyp.
Cuyp we will pass over with few words. A great second-rate man he undoubtedly was, but his hot colouring smacks of the imagination rather than of nature. Paul Potter and Ruysdael also are men with unduly great reputations; they are both false in sentiment, and they handled nature with impertinence. Any careful observer can see that Ruysdael played with the lighting of landscapes as did Turner, and of course it is well known that he was not particular as to painting his landscapes on the spot. There is no nature in him, it is all Ruysdael, Ruysdael, Ruysdael, eternally Ruysdael.
Hobbema.
Hobbema at times verged near the truth and greatness, as for instance in the painting of a road with trees, in the National Gallery, which our readers will do well to study; but he is insincere and untrue all through and was not a naturalist. |Van der Velde.| In sea painting, Van der Velde the younger is wonderful in his truth and love of nature. Good specimens of his work can be seen in the National Gallery.