THE BROTHERS LE NAIN
Of far greater artistic significance are the three brothers, Antoine, Louis, and Matthieu Le Nain, who were born at Laon, and flourished in Paris during the first half of the seventeenth century. Antoine and Louis died in 1648, and Matthieu in 1677. Very little is known of their history, but the splendid array of their works in Gallery XIII. proves them to have had close affinities with the contemporary Dutch and Flemish schools, even if their manner of composition suggests close acquaintance with Spanish art. Their subjects, too, like those of many of the Northern masters of their time, are taken from the daily life of the people, which is rendered with naïve honesty, and at times with a real appreciation of beautiful pigment. So far it has been impossible to distinguish between the works of the three brothers, as even the signatures “le nain, fecit 1647,” on the Portraits in an Interior (No. 543), and “le nain, fecit anno 1642,” on the Peasants at their Meal (No. 548, La Caze Gallery), afford no clue to the solution of the problem. The striking differences in brushwork and colouring, which are to be noticed in the eleven Le Nain pictures at the Louvre, would certainly suggest that the three brothers did not, or did only rarely, collaborate on the same pictures. The painter of The Return from Haymaking (No. 542), with its prophetic suggestion of the plein-air effects of late nineteenth-century art, cannot have had much in common with the painter of the dull and dingy Denial of St. Peter (No. 547).
NICOLAS POUSSIN
The founder of the Classicist school of French painting, which has had official approval and support from his time to the present day, was Nicolas Poussin (1594–1665). Born at Les Andelys in Normandy, he went to Paris at the age of eighteen, and became so fascinated by the examples of antique sculpture that, in spite of his extreme poverty, he determined to continue his studies in Rome. It is unnecessary here to relate the struggles that preceded his arrival at Rome in 1624. He frequented the school of Domenichino; but what was more decisive for the formation of his style was his unceasing study of antique sculpture, in which he was guided and encouraged by his friend, the sculptor Duquesnoy. After some years of continued poverty, he found at last liberal patronage, and rose to such fame that on his return to Paris in 1640 he was appointed Painter-in-Ordinary to the King. However, the duties and restrictions attached to this position proved so irksome to Poussin, that after two years he returned to Rome, where he spent the rest of his life.
At the Louvre is to be found an imposing array of forty canvases by Poussin, whose art is as typical an expression of French genius as the poetry of Corneille. It is essentially intellectual, based on theoretical rules of design and composition, not in the least sensuous or emotional, but always coldly classical. The vast majority of his paintings at the Louvre are in such a deplorable state of deterioration and neglect that it is almost impossible to form an adequate idea of their original colour, but even the most ardent admirers of the master do not maintain that he was a great colourist. His pictures are entirely dependent on beauty of form and rhythmic design. They might almost be described as painted reliefs. This applies at least to his treatment of the human figure. His conception of landscape, though still severely classical, is more pictorial and testifies to a genuine love of Nature—Nature idealised by a lofty imagination. To appreciate his greatness as a landscape painter, one has only to examine the glorious setting to his Orpheus and Eurydice (No. 740). The figures here are really of quite subordinate importance—mere incidents in a landscape painted with consummate mastery, perfect in linear and aerial perspective.
The Shepherds in Arcadia (No. 734, [Plate XXXVII.]) may be quoted to illustrate the calculated rhythm of his design and his indebtedness to classic art from which he derived his nobility of form. Real dramatic action was beyond Poussin’s range. His famous Rape of the Sabine Women (No. 724) is a striking instance of his failure to grasp the significant difference between dramatic movement and mere heroic posturing. Far more inspired, and therefore more natural and dramatically effective, is the superb circular painting for a ceiling commissioned by Cardinal Richelieu and representing Time rescuing Truth from the Attacks of Envy and Discord (No. 735). The allegory is said to have been intended as an allusion to the circumstances which induced Poussin to leave Paris for good. The design has more real vitality than is generally to be found in Poussin’s work; the action of the figures is more natural; and the colour music is not drowned by the prevalence of dingy browns. The decorative effect heralds in a strange way the art of the next century, and particularly that of Boucher.
To see Poussin in the right perspective as regards the world’s great masters, one need only compare his two Bacchanals (Nos. 729 and 730) with Titian’s rendering of a similar theme. The comparison is disastrous for the eclectic Frenchman. A Portrait of the Painter (No. 743) from Poussin’s own brush is to be found in Room XIV., where no fewer than thirty-seven of his pictures are on view.
PLATE XXXVII.—NICOLAS POUSSIN
(1594–1665)
FRENCH SCHOOL
No. 734.—THE SHEPHERDS IN ARCADIA
(Les Bergers d’Arcadie)
In the centre of a landscape with receding ranges of hills, three shepherds, leaning on their long staves, and a maiden in classic garb, are gathered around an ancient tomb surrounded by trees. An inscription on the tomb, “Et in Arcadia Ego,” engages their attention. One of the shepherds is kneeling and reading the inscription to his companion on the left, whilst the third man of the group leans forward to point out to the maiden the significance of the inscription.