Quite recently there has been on exhibition at Goupil's gallery a remarkable picture by the French artist Jean Léon Gérôme, entitled L'Almée, which [{284}] may be thus briefly described: Scene, a dilapidated Egyptian Khan or coffee shop; in the foreground and centre of the picture a Ghawazee, or dancing girl, performing a striking but immodest dance, which consists wholly of movements of the body from the hips, the legs remaining stationary; a group of fierce looking and fantastically bedizened Bashi-Bazouks, sitting cross-legged on a divan, spectators of the performance; and in the background some musicians and an attendant or two. It would be almost impossible to over-praise the marvellous finish of this work, the skilful blending of the colors, the subdued yet appropriate tone, or the dramatic force of the composition. If these qualities were all that are demanded in a work of art, we might stop here; but when the subject is repulsive, they prove a source of aggravation rather than of pleasure, and few, we think, will deny that the scene depicted by Gérôme, though illustrating a peculiar and perhaps important phase of Oriental life, is one of too gross a character to subserve the purposes of true art. A vast deal of sentiment has been wasted upon the "moral significance" of pictures of this type. The less said upon that score, the better. We do not instruct children to abstain from vice by putting immoral books into their hands, trusting that some innate sense of propriety may prompt them thereby to see virtue in a clearer light. If disposed to criticise the technical part of this work, we should say that the finish is too elaborate. Everything, to the smallest minutiae, is polished almost to the degree of hardness, and one instinctively longs for an occasional roughness or evidence of the brush—something of that manual movement which indicates the passing thought of the painter. Where all is of so regular and level a merit, the contrasts which should give strength and spirit to a painting are sure to be wanting. In this respect Gérôme compares unfavorably with Meissonier. Both finish with scrupulous exactness; but the latter never makes finish paramount to the proper expression of his subject. Hence the life and action, so to speak, of his most nicely elaborated figures. In the Almée, on the other hand, the group of soldiers, though wearing an admirable expression of stoical sensuality, are too rigid and immovable, too much like well painted copies of the lay figures which served as models for them. So, too, of many of the details, excepting always the draperies, which could not be improved. A little more attention to the ars celare artem would render Gérôme almost unapproachable in his peculiar style.
Before leaving Goupil's, we cannot avoid drawing attention to some studies of trees and foliage, by Richards, of Philadelphia, now exhibited there. One of them, representing the interior of a wood in early autumn, is the best delineation of that phase of nature we have recently seen. Generally, the pictures of this artist are wanting in relief; his foliage lies flat upon the canvas; the trunks of his trees have no rounded outline, nor can the eye penetrate through the recesses of the wood; there is, in fact, no atmosphere to speak of. These defects have been happily overcome in the present instance, and, with no lack of Pre-Raphaelite power in delineating the outward aspect of nature, there is a pervading tone of melancholy appropriate to the scene and the season. Less remarkable than this, but of considerable merit, is a mountain landscape, in which the season depicted is also the autumn.
Foreign.—Abroad there seems to be a perfect fever to buy and sell works of art. "Everybody," says the London Athenaeum, "who has a collection, seems determined to dispose of it, and accident has thrown a large number of works on the art-market; but as those who have taste and means seem just as eager to buy as the collectors are to sell, the activity of the art-marts is but a natural consequence of the law of supply and demand, the natural limit having been extended in several instances by the accidental re-appearance of many works twice or three times during the season." This has been the case especially with respect to the pictures of Delacroix. It is always dangerous to assume the prophetic character; but it appears very improbable that, on the average, works of art will fetch higher sums than they have during the present season.'' In Paris the Pourtalès sale continues, and is daily crowded by eager virtuosi, whose competition runs up prices to an extent bordering on the extravagant. The proceeds of the third portion of the sale, which occupied three days, and included the engraved [{285}] gems, antique jewelry and glass, were 45,743 francs; those of the fourth section, the coins and medals, 18,430 francs; and of the fifth, which comprised the sculpture in ivory and wood, the renaissance bronzes, arms, faiences, glass, and some miscellaneous articles, 505,640 francs. The following are some of the prices obtained for the sculptures in ivory, of which there was a magnificent collection of 70 pieces: A statuette of Hercules resting on his club, one foot on the head of the Hydra, purchased for England, $3,280.—Venus with Cupid at her side, left by Fiamingo as security in the house at Leghorn wherein he died, $1,180.—A renaissance bronze bust of Charles IX., of France, life size, artist unknown, formerly the property of the Duc de Berri, brought $9,000.—"Henry II. ware," the well-known biberon, with cover bearing the arms of France, surmounted by a coronet, and bearing the arms and initials of Diane de Poitiers, uninjured, just over ten inches in height, $5,500.—The celebrated Marie Stuart cup, presented to her when affianced to the Dauphin, was disposed of for $5,420. It is but a few inches in height, but is covered, inside and out, with designs illustrating classical mythology and allegory, and with profuse ornamentation, all in exquisite taste and of perfect workmanship. It was executed by Jean Court dit Vigier, about 1556.—A round basin, in grisaille, by Pierre Raymond (1558), representing the history of Adam and Eve, in enamel on a black ground, brought $4,040; a large oval salver, by Jean Courtois, enamelled in the richest manner, representing the passage of the Red Sea, with borders decorated with figures, medallions, etc., $6,000. These prices, it may be observed, were considered by competent judges to be rather low! The vases and goblets of rock crystal were also well contested. A magnificent head, of Apollo, in marble, formerly in the Justiniani gallery, was bought, it is said, for the British Museum, for $9,000; and the celebrated Pallas vase, the most perfect specimen of Greek work in porphyry extant, fetched $3,400.
The new chapel of the Palais de l'Elysée has just been completed, and is said to be a perfect gem of artistic decoration. The style is Byzantine, the mosaic work of the altar being executed in marbles of the rarest kinds; but the pillars and vaulted roof are in stucco, imitating porphyry, vert antique, and gold, in such perfection that it is difficult to believe that the mines of Sweden and Russia had not been ransacked to produce the rich coloring and massive effect which strikes the eye of the visitor. The twelve patron saints of France are represented—including Charlemagne and St. Louis.
The Aguado pictures were announced for sale, in Paris, on the 10th of April. They include the famous "Death of Sainte Claire," by Murillo, brought from the convent of Saint François d'Asrise in Seville, by Mathieu Fabirer, Commissary-General of Napoleon's army—a very large canvas, including no less than twenty-eight figures.
The collection of ancient and modern pictures and water-color drawings formed by Mr. Thomas Blackburn, of Liverpool, was recently disposed of at auction in London for £8,763. Some of the water-color drawings by Copley Fielding, Louis Haghe, John Gilbert, Prout, Birket Foster, and others, realized very large sums.
Theed's colossal statue of the Prince Consort, which has been cast in bronze at Nuremberg, has recently arrived in London. The model of this figure was originally executed by command of her majesty, and sent as a present to Coburg, where it at present remains, a bronze cast having been taken from it. The town of Sydney being desirous of erecting a statue of the prince, this second cast was executed by command of the Duke of Newcastle, on the ground that of all the numerous likenesses now extant this was the best. The figure is ten feet high, and represents the prince in a commanding attitude, dressed in the robes of the garter.
The alterations in progress in the Wolsey Chapel, at Windsor Castle, have brought to light three full-length portraits of knights of the garter, attired in the military costume of the order, capped with helmets, and wearing cloaks with the insignia. These were hidden by stone slabs, and as there are upwards of twenty similar slabs, it is probable that other similar paintings may be discovered.
Mr. G. T. Doo's large line-engraving from Sebastiano del Piombo's "Resurrection of Lazarus," in the National Gallery, by far the most important of its kind produced for many years past, is [{286}] now finished. The figure of Christ is 13 inches high, that of Lazarus is still larger, and, being naked, invoked the utmost care and knowledge of the engraver to deal with its superbly drawn forms and perfect surface. The execution, if not the whole design, of this figure has been, on good grounds, attributed to Michael Angelo. Mr. Doo has rendered these with great success, even to giving the somewhat hard and positive tone of the original; and with one or two exceptions, the drawing is described as admirable throughout. In view of the few really good line-engravings now produced, and of the prospect of the art perhaps becoming extinct within the present century, the production of such a work possesses a genuine though somewhat melancholy interest.
Kaulbach, it is said, will finish his paintings in the Berlin Museum this spring. The price he has received for them is given at $187,000, with an addition of $18,700 for the cost of materials. One of the smaller pictures for the series represents Germany absorbed in reading Humboldt's "Cosmos," and letting the imperial crown fall off her head in the abstraction caused by her studies. Underneath, the various small states that compose the confederation are poking out their heads as far as possible to escape from under a hat which is coming down upon them—an illusion to the popular phrase of uniting the whole of Germany "under one hat."