Henriette Browne (French: 1829-1901).
2057. VENUS WITH THE MIRROR.
Velazquez (Spanish: 1599-1660). See 197.
This celebrated picture—commonly called "Venus and Cupid," but known in Spain as the "Venus del Espejo"—is one of the master's rare studies of the nude, and it is characteristic of his genius. The subject is professedly mythological, but Velazquez seeks no adventitious interest from legendary association or idealistic grace. Here, as everywhere, his standpoint is frankly realistic, whilst the work is saved from commonness by purity of colour and sincerity of artistic purpose. It has been truly said that the flesh-painting here makes many another picture in the Gallery look lifeless and unreal. The face of "Venus" in the mirror—with broad features enframed in plainly dressed hair—does not realise the promise of the pretty outline of the head with the brown hair tied in a knot; and it has been suggested (by Dr. Justi) that "perhaps the damsel did not wish to be recognised." However this may be, the very plainness of the face emphasises the artist's intention. The picturesqueness of the outline and modulations of the back in a youthful female figure was the artistic effect which he set himself to render.
The history of the picture is well authenticated.[258] It was painted about 1650, and passed into the possession of the Duke of Alba on his marriage in 1688 with Doña Catalina de Haro of Guzmom, Condessa-Duquesa de Olivares, the picture forming part of her dowry. It is mentioned in an inventory of the paintings belonging to her family as "a Venus of life size reclining nude with a child who holds up for her a mirror into which she gazes. This picture is an original work by Don Diego Velazquez." In an account of the Duke of Alba's palace in 1776 it is described as "the very celebrated Venus depicted from the back, in the reclining posture, with her face reflected in a mirror towards which she directs her gaze." Subsequently the picture became the property of the Spanish statesmen, Godoy. In 1808 it was sold and brought to this country; and purchased through Mr. Buchanan for the sum of £500, by Mr. Morritt, the friend of Sir Walter Scott. It became an heirloom in Mr. Morritt's family at Rokeby Hall, Teesdale. "Twice," says Dr. Justi in his life of Velazquez, "in 1879 and 1885 I had the privilege of seeing it there and convincing myself of its faultless preservation and the original brilliancy and freshness of its colour." It was exhibited in 1857 among the "Art Treasures" at Manchester and in 1890 at the "Old Masters." It was ultimately sold under an order of the Court of Chancery, the price obtained being £30,500. It passed into the hands of Messrs. Agnew, and its sale out of this country was believed to be imminent when the National Art Collections Fund came to the rescue and raised by subscription the amount now necessary for its purchase.
The sum paid was £45,000,[259] and the picture was presented by the Fund to the nation.
2058. SUNNY DAYS IN THE FOREST.
Diaz (French: 1809-1876).
Narciso Virgilio Diaz de la Peña, one of the members of "the Barbizon School" (see p. 698), was born, of Spanish extraction, at Bordeaux. Left an orphan at the age of ten, he was adopted by a Protestant clergyman, living at Bellevue, near Sèvres. He was of a truant disposition, and sleeping once upon the grass in the woods he was bitten by a viper; the accident cost him his left leg, and he had to go through life with a wooden one, which he called his pilon. In after years, when his pictures were rejected at the Salon, he would make a hole in the canvas with his wooden leg, saying with a laugh "what's the use of being rich? I can't have my pilon set in diamonds." His early years were of uncertain fortune, spent in earning a precarious living, sometimes as a painter on china at Sèvres, sometimes as an errand-boy in the streets. But he had confidence in his talent, and gradually found a market for his pictures. These were at first of figures, flowers, or other genre. A meeting in 1830 with Théodore Rousseau sent him to Fontainebleau and nature. For Rousseau, he entertained the most profound admiration, the story of "the toast of Diaz," is well known. Diaz had been preferred to Rousseau in admission to the Legion of Honour. In attending a dinner given in 1851 to the new officiers, Diaz rose and invited the company to drink "À Rousseau, notre maître oublié!" Of his figure-subjects, one of the best "La Fée aux Perles" is in the Louvre, but it is on his landscapes that his fame chiefly rests. "Go into the forest," it has been said, "lose yourself among its trees, and you can only say 'À Diaz'." To him, however, the forest was not, as to some others of the school, or as to Ruysdael, sombre or serious. It was a keyboard on which to play colour-fantasies. "You paint stinging-nettles," he said to Millet, "I prefer roses." "Pearls," said Théophile Gautier of his pictures, "brilliant as precious stones, prismatic gems and rainbow jewels." His pictures have been called not so much landscapes, as "tree-scapes." "Have you seen my last stem?" he used to say himself to his visitors. But it was the play of sunlight on the stems that he chiefly loved. Diaz is the colourist of the Barbizon School.