1257. THE BIRTH OF THE VIRGIN.
Murillo (Spanish: 1618-1682). See 13.
A sketch for the large picture now in the Louvre (No. 540). "Like so many of the sketches of Murillo, it is so light in touch," says one of the critics, "so exquisite in colour, as to be, from an artistic point of view, preferable to the finished picture." This, however, is not the only advantage which Murillo gains from smallness of scale. There is a prettiness, and even a sentimentality, permissible on a small scale which offends the dignity of a large canvas. Thus, the "affectation" of the attendant angels is far less "absurd" here than in the large picture. "One of the cherubs shrinks back," adds Mr. Eastlake in his Louvre catalogue, "frightened at a dog, which seems a strangely human act of weakness; another holds up a piece of baby-linen, with a provokingly fantastic air." But herein we have the very characteristics which make the religious sentiment of Murillo's pictures interesting. In the early Italian pictures the Virgin is a great lady, living in a fine house or spacious cloister. But in Spain the symbols of devotion passed into realities; and a combination of mysticism in conception with realism in treatment is the distinguishing "note" of the Spanish religious school. One could not wish for a prettier presentment of this mingled note than is afforded by this little sketch, with its angels half in ecstatic adoration over the "Lily of Eden," and half in human playfulness—a sketch which seems to combine with the frank realities of a humble nursery the religious sentiment of Keble's Christian Year:—
Ave Maria! blessed maid!
Lily of Eden's fragrant shade,
Who can express the love
That nurtured thee so pure and sweet,
Making thy heart a shelter meet
For Jesus' Holy Dove!
1258. A STUDY OF STILL LIFE
J. B. S. Chardin (French: 1699-1779).
Jean Baptiste Siméon Chardin was the contemporary of Boucher (1090), and his pictures may serve to remind us that there was a bourgeoisie in France as well as a noblesse when Louis XV. was king. The simple subject of this picture—a loaf of brown bread, with a bottle of wine, spread out on a piece of old newspaper—takes us far away from the luxurious trifling of the Court painters. Chardin followed the path of frank realism, treating, however, all his subjects with refinement. To Dutch precision he added Gallic grace. He painted either still life (as here) or scenes from the domestic life of the people (as in 1664, and in a picture in the Dulwich Gallery). His treatment was devoid of affectation, and his colouring fresh and agreeable. "He is the best colourist in the Salon," said Diderot of him in his lifetime. Chardin, in the exercise of his honest industry, knew how difficult it was to excel, and said on one occasion to Diderot and the other critics, "Gently, good sirs, gently! Out of all the pictures that are here seek the very worst; and know that two thousand unhappy wretches have bitten their brushes in two with their teeth, in despair of ever doing even so badly." Chardin's fellow-workers appreciated his merits, and he was elected a member of the Academy in 1728, becoming Treasurer of that body in 1755. There is a large collection of his works in the Louvre. They fell into disrepute during the succeeding reign of David and the "classical" school, but they have again won a high position in the estimation of those who know. This picture (which is signed, and dated 1754) was presented to the Gallery; for No. 1664, purchased in 1898, the sum of £721 was paid.
Chardin's pictures show that instinctive "power of reticence" which is one of the secrets of fine art. "It is what gives value to such humble efforts as the study of still-life subjects, and raises them—as in the works of the French painters, Chardin especially, and of some of the Dutch painters—above the level of mere mechanical imitations, and transforms them into works capable of giving us real pleasure" (Poynter's Lectures on Art, p. 195).
1260-1270. EARLY GREEK PORTRAITS.
These eleven portraits are part of the find by Mr. Flinders Petrie, in his excavations at Hawara, in the Fayoum (Middle Egypt), and are of great interest as supplying a fresh link in the historical development of art as exhibited in the National Gallery. Here is portraiture in its infancy. But even these portraits, done probably by Græco-Egyptian artists in the second or third century A.D., are later developments from an earlier stage. They were affixed to the outside covering of mummies in a position corresponding to the head of the corpse:[237] the exact arrangement can be seen in two mummies from the same "find," now in the British Museum. "They are derived," says Miss Amelia B. Edwards, "by a clearly traced process of evolution from the portrait-heads first modelled in stucco upon Egyptian mummy cases, and then painted. From coloured portraiture in high relief to coloured portraiture on flexible canvas, where a certain amount of relief was obtained by the prominence of the bandaged face beneath, was one step; and from the flexible canvas to the panel upon which the semblance of relief was given by light and shadow and foreshortening was another and far more important step. It marked the transition from the Eastern to the Western school of painting." The portraits are painted with pigments of rich colour on thin panels of cedar wood, wax being the medium employed. "The rather lumpy surface or impasto which comes from the use of a wax medium is very obvious. The melted wax rapidly hardened when the brush touched the cold surface of the panel, and so prevented the pigment from being laid in a smooth, even manner. The wood was not, like stucco, sufficiently absorbent for the subsequent application of heat to get rid of the lumpy surface by driving the superfluous wax below the surface" (Middleton's Remains of Ancient Rome, i. 100). The persons buried with these panel portraits were mostly of Greek origin; but some—as, for instance, the man (No. 1265, presented by Mr. Haworth)—seemed rather to be of the Roman type. The faces exhibit all variations, from living grace to the emptiest vacuity. It has been suggested that "the better portraits were painted from the life, whilst in other cases the painter was perhaps only sent for after death, and this may account for the vague and lifeless looks of many of the portraits, inanimate in spite of the wide, open, and vacuous smile." It will be noticed that "the style of the portraits is usually conventional precisely in those details which make the difference between one living face and another. The eyes, which more than any other feature should impart the living expression in all these cases, are executed in a perfunctory and formal manner. And they are, moreover, in many cases too large for the face. This is not merely due to the inability of the artists, for many of these portraits show a real grasp of character and a distinct technical skill in the modelling, notably in that, perhaps, most difficult of tasks, the indication of the play of muscles around the mouth. Under these circumstances I think no one will deny that the measure of success achieved in some of the best of these portraits is very remarkable. The old man in particular (1265) shows a breadth of style and a quiet humour which reminds us of some of the Dutch masters of the Teniers school. Of course there are good and bad among them; the quality probably depended to some extent upon the price which the relative could afford to pay. One wonders what the price may have been, especially when we read of the enormous sums which great pictures fetched in the palmy days of Greek painting. Most of these people seem to have been well to do, as the gold wreaths of the men and the jewellery of the women prove" (Cecil Smith, ch. vi. of W. M. F. Petrie's Hawara, Biahmu, and Arsinoe: 1889). No. 1261 retains the greater part of a gilt gesso border, stamped or modelled with a wavy tendril and bud pattern.