The greater skill of present-day artists, coupled with the advent of the cinematograph (which has provided them with the means of studying the horse in motion), has been responsible for some wonderfully accurate and lifelike portrayals of the more prominent of our equine celebrities. It may be said with little fear of contradiction, that among latter day artists, few, if any, have been more successful in horse portraiture than Martin Stainforth. His pictures usually represent a horse as possessed of irreproachable manners, standing quite still, and of exemplary docility. But when he leaves this favourite pose and gives us the racehorse in action his art achieves supreme heights.

An Englishman by birth, Stainforth came to this country in 1909 and now claims to have served a sufficient period of probation to entitle him to be an Australian by adoption. A year or so of station life with his cousin in North Queensland inspired him with such enthusiasm for the outdoor life and our genial climate that a return to London was out of the question, so he decided to come to Sydney, there to indulge a long-cherished ambition to paint Australia’s thoroughbreds for which he had conceived so warm an admiration.

I am the fortunate possessor of Stainforth’s picture of “Artilleryman” finishing in his memorable Melbourne Cup. The horse is shown going at top speed, quite off the ground, with his legs well under him. The drawing is absolutely correct, and shows that there is at least one phase of the gallop which is graceful and sightly. But his finest interpretation of the moving horse is to be seen in his great picture of the most exciting finish in a classic race ever seen at Randwick. It was a memorable meeting of four champions in the Craven Plate of 1918, when the faithful Cetigne, ridden by Albert Wood, forced his way through a chance opening at the last moment and snatched victory from the brilliant Wolaroi, the hardy Estland, and the consistent Desert Gold. The canvas brings the scene back to all of us who witnessed the event so vividly that we live those few intense seconds over again; we do not see the impossible horses depicted by Herring; we see four horses, lifelike in the fidelity of their pictured action, and each horse an entity in itself. In a fast and close finish the eye cannot distinguish minute details of the struggling horses, and the painter, cognisant of this, does not attempt that detail which he would portray if he were painting a stationary and specially posed horse. His chief object is to convey the impression of rapid movement. That is the essential, and he has achieved this with such consummate art that the picture is a classic among racing paintings. In Australia the horse is a national asset, and in the Craven Plate picture Stainforth has endeavoured to depict for posterity the most outstanding and memorable classic event in the annals of our turf history. By his signal success he has earned the thanks of all lovers of a good horse.

Stainforth’s art, however, is not confined to the painting of horses alone. As an exponent of that now almost forgotten art, wood engraving, he has proved himself a master. Both Lord Leighton and Sir John Millais, as Presidents of the Royal Academy, selected some of his work for the Exhibitions at Paris, Berlin and Brussels as the best examples of the English engraver’s art. He also exhibited at the Royal Academy on many occasions and has achieved considerable success as an illustrator for the principal English magazines. But his best work as an engraver is to be found, perhaps, in the illustrations to Grant Allen’s “Evolution of Art.” Much of Stainforth’s present-day skill as a painter of horses is no doubt due to the patience and attention to detail with which he became imbued as an exponent of the engraver’s art.

One has only to study his “Head of Trafalgar” to realise that he holds a high place among the great painters of animals. This work is a wonderfully lifelike and faithful reproduction of the erstwhile turf idol. The head is framed in bold relief by the shadow of the empty box, a look of expectancy is in the eyes, and our attention is irresistibly drawn to the well-shaped ears and the long, white blaze that so many of us have watched with anxious hearts as the game old battler was commencing his characteristic finishing run to victory. Note how beautifully the cheek fades away to a neck, whose glossy sheen covers smooth rolls of muscles. Surely his nostrils move, and the old horse breathes again! If Landseer had painted no picture but his “Fighting Dogs Getting Wind,” a work which he executed when quite a young man, that effort alone would have raised him to the first rank of animal painters. And without hesitation I claim that Stainforth’s “Head of Trafalgar” is one of the finest studies of the horse in existence, and, as an experienced student of sporting pictures, I declare that his “Craven Plate” is the greatest racing picture ever painted.

Recently I stood before his “Poitrel,” that great horse whose achievements almost equalled the mighty Carbine. He stands on a trimmed plot of grass with a wall at the rear, his shapely, ruddy chestnut form in such clear relief that we realise at a glance how this strong fellow won a Melbourne Cup with ten stone on his back. He stands poised in his virile beauty of pliant muscles and shining coat, a splendid specimen of the thoroughbred—truly a picture that will bring delight to future generations of horse-lovers. Such a picture should belong to the Nation.

DUKE FOOTE (1). Bay Horse, 1907, by Sir Foote (imp.)—Ortelle (imp.). Winner of £14,069, and a high-class horse. Now at his owner’s (Mr. John Brown) Will’s Gully Stud, N.S.W. From a painting of the horse, at the age of 5 years, in the possession of Dr. Stewart McKay.

DESERT GOLD (2). Bay Mare, 1912, by All Black (imp.)—Aurarius. Winner of £23,133, and one of the best mares bred in Australasia. Now at her owner’s (Mr. T. H. Lowry) stud in New Zealand. From a sketch of the mare, at the age of 5 years, in the possession of the artist.