The two galleries—the south-east and the north-east—those usually appropriated to the new works, contained one hundred and eighty pictures, which, with some half dozen scattered through the old collection, made about one hundred and ninety new pictures, by modern artists. Of this number some seventy or eighty were foreign—the majority of these German. How many were submitted for the “prizes or sums of money” we are not informed.
328 of the catalogue—Death of Abel, etc., by Edward du Jardin, is probably, so far as subject is involved, the most important work in the collection. As a whole, we look on these pictures as a failure, as a dead failure. Parts of the works are well drawn, and carefully, even laboriously studied, but what could be more absurd than the habiliments, attitude and expression of the angel in the first of the three? The Adam in the centre is a regular property figure—one of those stock studies which embellish the portfolio of every young artist who has ever been to Europe. The attitude and expression are such as can be purchased by the franc’s worth from any one of the scores of models to be found in almost every city in Europe. The Eve possesses more of the character of a repentant Magdalene than the “mother of mankind.” The third picture is to our mind the best; but, taken all together, the works are barely passable—not by any means what we should have expected from a professor of painting in one of the first schools in Europe. Religious art requires abilities and perceptions of the first order—feelings different from any manifested in this production.
Of a different order is 56—Rouget de Lisle, a French officer, singing for the first time the Marsellaise Hymn, (of which he was the author,) at the house of the Mayor of Strasburg, 1792—Painted by Godfroi Guffens. Every thing here is fire and enthusiasm—the enthusiasm that ought to pervade every work of art—which makes the intelligent spectator feel as the artist felt in its production. We have heard various and conflicting remarks made upon this work, and the general feeling among competent judges is that it is the best of the foreign works. In our opinion it is, perhaps, the best modern picture in the collection. The grouping, actions, and expressions of the figures are in admirable keeping with the subject, and the color is rich, agreeable, and subdued.
Murray’s Defense of Toleration.—P. F. Rothermel. If to the exquisite qualities of color, composition, etc., Mr. Rothermel would add (we know he can) expression, he would unquestionably be the historical painter of America. In a refined, intellectual perception of the general character of his subject, Mr. R. is unsurpassed, perhaps unapproached by any painter in the country. His pictures give evidence of the greatest care and study—no part is slighted—nothing done with the “that will do” feeling, which dreads labor. The picture under consideration embraces a great number of figures—in fact the canvas is literally covered, but not crowded, every inch giving evidence of intelligence and design. Concerning the work, we have heard, from the public press as well as from individuals, but one expression, that of the strongest commendation—in which we heartily concur.
150, from the Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act IV., Scene 1st., also by Mr. Rothermel, is conceived in the true feeling of the great poet. The figures of Bottom, and Titania and the other fairies, are fine conceptions. Some comparatively unimportant defects in drawing might be remedied, without injuring the general effect.
Mr. Winner contributes a large work—Peter Healing the Lame Man at the Beautiful Gate of the Temple. This picture possesses great merit, and evinces a most commendable ambition. The grouping is well managed—the expressions of Peter and John are good—the cripple capital. A stumpy shortness of the figures mars the general character of this otherwise beautiful production. Mr. Winner paints drapery well, and perhaps unconsciously loads his figures with it. This defect is conspicuous in his grand work of “Christ raising the Daughter of Jairus,” now in our Art Union Gallery. The heads and extremities of Mr. Winner’s pictures are perfect studies of color and modeling, and evince a masterly knowledge of anatomy. We should be rejoiced to see the efforts of our artists liberally sustained, as they ought to be, in the higher departments of art.
41, The Happy Moment—105, The Recovery—Carl Hubner. These, no doubt, are popular works—as works of certain classes always will be. We have heard much said in praise of them. They are beautifully, exquisitely painted—especially the “Happy Moment,” in which the color and execution are admirable. But in sentiment, or any of the ideal qualities of such subjects, they are lamentably deficient. Like nearly all the German painters, Carl Hubner possesses much greater executive than imaginative powers—he is more of a mechanic than an artist. He gratifies the eye at the expense of the mind. Surely rustic love is suggestive of something more than any thing hinted at in the “Happy Moment.” “The Recovery” is composed of the usual conventional material of such subjects—a simpering physician, with a nice diamond ring on his finger, friends, with the old, upturned eyes and clasped hands, are mechanically put together—all standing or sitting evidently on purpose to be painted.
In landscape, the best works in the collection are Nos. 35 and 136, by Diday, a Geneva artist—a Moonlight, No. 46, B. Stange, and No. 78, a Roman Aqueduct at Alcala, with caravans of muleteers, F. Bossuet. The two first are grand and imposing representations of scenery in the High Alps—in color they are deep and rich in tone. The Moonlight, by Stange, is the best we have ever seen. The tremulous luminousness of the moonshine is rendered with matchless truth. The Roman Aqueduct, by Bossuet, is, beyond question, the finest landscape in the collection. Sunlight, local color, and texture were never painted with greater truth than in this splendid production. Light and heat pervade every nook and corner of the picture, from the dry, dusty foreground, off to the distant mountains which close the scene. The work furnishes a grand example of artistic execution and detail. No 52—Lake George—Russel Smith—is a beautiful piece of open daylight effect, possessing great truth. A Scene on the North River—Paul Weber—possesses much merit. The color is fresh and natural, and the sky is the best we have seen by this artist.
In the Marine department we have works from Schotel, De Groot, Pleysier, Mozin, and other foreign artists, and from Birch, Bonfield, and Hamilton, American. Hamilton stands preeminent in this department—his “Thunder Storm,” and a poetic subject from Rogers’ Columbus, are the best marines in the Academy. All his works in the present exhibition have been so minutely described in the daily and weekly papers, and so universally commended, that we deem it unnecessary to do more than add our unqualified acquiescence in the favorable judgment thus far expressed concerning them. Not one of our artists is attracting so much attention at the present moment as Mr. Hamilton. We have no doubt he is fully able to sustain the high expectations created by his works within the last two years. Birch and Bonfield, each, maintain their well-earned and well-deserved reputations. Of the foreign marines, those of Pleysier and De Groot are the best—but there is nothing remarkable in either.
A Still Life piece by Gronland, a French artist, is a splendid example of its class—as is, also, one of a similar character by J. B. Ord, the best painter of such subjects in the United States.