A Popular Handbook to the National Gallery, Volume I, Foreign Schools

144

The three portraits, 1022, 1023, and 1025, formerly in the Casa Fenaroli at Brescia, were there all attributed to Moretto. Signor Morelli was the first to recognise in the two former the hand and mind of Moroni, under whose name they were sold to the National Gallery.

145

Mr. Dickes's ingenious and interesting explanation is now accepted by the authorities, and there can be little doubt of its correctness. The motto had previously been misread as του λιαν ποθω which was interpreted "by the desire of the extreme." The picture was for many years in the possession of the Martinengo Cesaresco family, and passed for a portrait of their ancestor Count Sciarra. The motto was interpreted as referring to the Count's desire to avenge the death of his father, who had been assassinated. The desire of the extreme, the activity of a restless spirit, was with the Count to the end, and he died fighting in France in the campaign which ended in a defeat of the Huguenots at the battle of Moncontour, October 3, 1569. But the Count Sciarra was a soldier-adventurer, showing no characteristics accordant with the nobleman before us other than that, according to a Brescian historian, "his eyes gleamed with an unconquerable desire." But the inscription is undoubtedly as given in the text, the accents being all clearly marked. The portrait is clearly not of a restless man of action, so much as of a dilettante. The dates of the Count Sciarra's career are also inconsistent with his being painted in this picture of Moretto's best period. The statements on behalf of the traditional identification made by the Contessa Evelyn Martinengo Cesaresco (Athenæum, Aug. 12, 1893) do not touch the points.

146

The feeling which one may thus find in these paintings of four centuries ago still lingers amongst the Italian peasantry, as readers of Miss Alexander's Roadside Songs and Christ's Folk in the Apennine (both edited by Mr. Ruskin) will know.

147

It may be worth noting that, according to the son of Turner's friend, Trimmer, this picture "had an entire new sky painted at the desire of Lawrence and other brother artists, who, when he had altered it, said the picture was ruined" (Thornbury's Life of Turner, i. 175).

148

Dr. Richter, in laying down the law to the contrary, gives too narrow an interpretation to Vasari's words. The Margaritone is certainly inferior to the best Byzantine work, but it adheres to the characteristics noticed above. Dr. Richter says: "This curious, if uninteresting painter, in all probability would never have emerged from his modest sphere of awkward provincialism into the full light of history but for the special praise bestowed upon him by his obliging countryman, Vasari. The latter states definitely, among other things, that Margaritone painted in the maniera greca; nevertheless, a single glance at the picture in the National Gallery is sufficient to convince the beholder that in reality this is not the case. Margaritone's pictures appear to me to be drawn in the wild and grotesque style prevalent in Italy during the early middle ages" (Lectures on the National Gallery, p. 11).

149

Dr. Richter ascribes all these pictures to the School of Duccio (see Lectures on the National Gallery, pp. 4-10.).

150

So described in the Official Catalogue. But "is the female saint on the right wing of the triptych really St. Catherine of Alexandria? Only the beginning of the inscription on either side of the figure containing the name can here still be deciphered. It runs thus: SCA (Saint) AL. The reading 'Catherine' thus apparently becomes inadmissible. Besides, the emblems of this female saint are decidedly not those of Catherine of Alexandria, who is always represented with a wheel as the emblem of her martyrdom, while the saint in the picture before us holds in her right hand a palm branch (?) and in her left a small cross, the emblem of confessors" (Richter's Italian Art in the National Gallery, p. 9).

151

This head is said to bear a marked resemblance to Mr. Swinburne as a young man (see W. B. Scott's Autobiographical Notes, ii. 18).

152

It was a practice at Italian weddings that the bride should be presented, as part of her dowry, with a coffer, which was intended to hold her trousseau and wedding presents. Some very fine specimens of these cassoni may be seen in the South Kensington Museum. They belong principally to the 14th, 15th, and 16th centuries. The typical cassone measured about six feet in length by two in height and two in breadth. The front and ends were decorated with paintings or carvings. The subjects depicted are either marriage scenes or stories borrowed from the Scriptures, from the classics, or from Petrarch. Many of the panel pictures in the National Gallery once adorned these cassoni. See, for instance, Nos. 1218 and 1219. A favourite subject was the allegory entitled "The Triumph of Love, Chastity, and Death," of which an excellent example is at South Kensington. The panel in this Gallery, No. 1196, has a similar subject.

153

This picture and the tondo of the same subject (1033) are by many critics ascribed to Botticelli. "In my opinion," says Morelli, "the two excellent but somewhat defaced pictures in the National Gallery, 592 and 1033, are works not of Filippino, but of Botticelli, whose dramatic powers are well displayed here" (Italian Masters in German Galleries, p. 236). For a full discussion leading to the same conclusion, see Monkhouse's In the National Gallery, p. 73.

154

Miss Betham-Edwards, on a visit to the painter at By, was shown some sketches for "The Horse Fair." "'There you have a Boulonnais,' I observed, as we contemplated the study of a fine black cart-horse. This remark gratified her. 'I am glad to find a stranger so much interested in our cart-horses'" (Anglo-French Reminiscences, ch. xxv.). Rosa Bonheur's knowledge of the animal world of France was very wide and precise.

155

This was Rosa Bonheur's own faith. "I believe," she once said, "in a just God, and a Paradise of the just. But religion (i. e. the religion of Rome) does not altogether satisfy me. I hold it monstrous that animals are supposed to be without souls. My poor lioness loved me. Thus she had more soul than certain human beings who do not know what it is to love anything."

156

"Giulio Romano did a little of everything for the Dukes of Mantua, – from painting the most delicate and improper little fresco for a bedchamber, to restraining the Po and Mincio with immense dykes, restoring ancient edifices and building new ones, draining swamps and demolishing and reconstructing whole streets, painting palaces and churches, and designing the city slaughter-house" (W. D. Howells's Italian Journeys, "Ducal Mantua"). Giulio's departure from Rome to Mantua was due to the scandal caused by the publication of some obscene designs of his (see Symonds, v. 341).

157

"The piece of St. Catherine's dress over her shoulders is painted on the under dress, after that was dry. All its value would have been lost, had the slightest tint or trace of it been given previously. This picture, I think, and certainly many of Tintoret's, are painted on dark grounds; but this is to save time, and with some loss to the future brightness of the colour" (Modern Painters, vol. v. pt. viii. ch. iv. § 17 n.).

158

Robert Browning, however, notes "the bonne bourgeoisie of his pictures; the dear common folk of his crowds, divinely pure they all are, but fresh from the streets and market-place" (Letters of Robert and E. B. Browning, i. 197). Mr. Langton Douglas in an illustrated monograph on Fra Angelico (1900) lays stress on the painter's "strength and freedom" as shown in the "Adoration of the Magi" at San Marco, or the "San Lorenzo giving alms" in the studio of Pope Nicholas; illustrates the influence of contemporary architecture and sculpture on his work; and characterises him not as "a saint with a happy knack of illustration," but as "an artist who happened to be a saint."

159

"This," says Mr. Hipkins of the present picture, "is the grandest and most extended mediæval band on record, worthy of the heavenly Host, to declare the praises of the Blessed Trinity." Mr. Hipkins gives an interesting identification and description of the instruments employed. To the left of the centre compartment we may find a viol, a rebec, a clarion, trumpets, harp, cither, double flute, and psaltery – also a tambourine, beaten with the hand, a tabor, and a portable organ. In the centre, under Christ, are two organs. The player on the pipe and tabor, left of the Redeemer, blows what seems to be a short French whistle. "Next to this musician is a cymbal player. The time beater is apparently no less required where time exists no more than he is in our terrestrial world; such discipline of rhythm is hereby sanctified." "In the upper rows, on the left hand of the Redeemer, we see one of those large guitar-viols which were used by the troubadours" (see further The Hobby Horse, No. 1, 1893, pp. 14-16).

160

"The many small figures which are seen here surrounded by a celestial glory are so beautiful," says Vasari of this picture, "that they appear to be truly beings of paradise; nor can he who approaches them be ever weary of regarding their beauty."

161

Now ascribed by many critics to Bouts (see 783).

162

Or more correctly, Piero dei' Franceschi, after the family name of his mother. Her Christian name was Romana, and Piero's father, it has now been ascertained, continued living during many years of his son's career. The year of Piero's birth is unknown.

163

This is a more charitable judgment than contemporary documents would suggest. In 1450 Fra Filippo was thrown into prison for a debt which he denied, and under torture confessed that he had forged the receipt. He was deprived of his rectory, and appealed to the Pope, who, however, confirmed the sentence, in a brief in which the painter is accused of "numerous and abominable wickednesses."

164

It is interesting to note the cartellino, or little card at the foot of the picture, on which Antonello inscribes his name and the date. This cartellino was taken as a model by Giovanni Bellini and subsequent Venetian artists (see e. g. 189 and 280).

165

Comparing him with Italian painters, his period of activity is seen to be coincident with the earlier work of Carpaccio and Perugino; he died while Raphael was still a boy. Crowe and Cavalcaselle have shown that Memlinc's work was well known and appreciated among Italian connoisseurs of the time.

166

I venture to retain this title, though the Official Catalogue assures us that it is but "a pleasing illusion," as "the features and the general form of head have little or no resemblance to the quite authentic portraits of Andrea" at Florence, "or to that engraved by Vasari, who was personally acquainted with the painter. If (adds the catalogue) the object in the hands represents, as it well may, a piece of modelling-clay, the subject of the portrait was probably a Florentine sculptor." In that case we may perhaps save our "pleasing illusion" by supposing that Andrea interpreted the expression of a fellow-artist by his own experience. But the case is by no means clear. The earlier portrait in the Uffizi is not very unlike ours. In the later some resemblance remains, though the face has coarsened. But this is a matter on which every one must see resemblances or otherwise for himself. (Reproductions will be found in the monograph on the painter in the "Great Masters" series. The author, H. Guinness, considers the authenticity of our portrait to be "beyond question," p. 23).

167

Lucrezia's character has, however, been whitewashed of late years: see Gazette des Beaux Arts, December 1876 and three following months.

168

This delightful picture, which has hitherto been ascribed to Bellini himself, is now (1898) attributed in the official catalogue to Catena (see 234).

169

"The pet portrait of the lecturer was Moroni's 'Tailor.' Luckily the original painting was in the National Gallery, and all interested could judge for themselves whether, for simplicity, expression, drawing, colour, and above all, soul, the portrait had a rival" (Report of a lecture on "Portraiture" by Mr. Harry Furniss).

170

In a red-figured vase in the British Museum (E 477 in the Third Vase Room) there is a picture of this same subject. "The drawing," says Miss Harrison, "is somewhat coarse, and the painter seems to be struggling with a subject that is expressively too much for him. Procris sinks in death in an odd, ill-drawn attitude; her soul escapes in the form of a bird, Kephalos smites his head in despair, the dog Lailaps watches concerned. Erechtheus, the old king-father, is at hand to sympathise; the curt archaic symbolism of attitude, the utterance of mere gesture, is at fault here. The story was pregnant with modern suggestion. It had to wait, so to speak, for the delicate imagination of the Renaissance painter, Piero di Cosimo, to make us feel the contrast between the dead woman, over-sentient, passion-slain, and the shaggy faun, kindly perplexed, and the dumb, faithful dog; between the soft slack peace of the woodland and the terrible tension of humanity" (Magazine of Art, 1894, p. 61).

171

Formerly ascribed to Margaret van Eyck.

172

Formerly ascribed to Van der Goes.

173

The clouds that gather round the setting sunDo take a sober colouring from an eyeThat hath kept watch o'er man's mortality.Wordsworth.

174

The existence of this supposed younger Foppa, and the date 1492 (rather than 1502) must be considered doubtful in view of the researches published by C. J. Ffoulkes in the Athenæum, February 15, 1902.

175

"Velazquez has left a great number of striking pictures, each containing a single figure. The Count de Pourtalès, in the collection at Paris (from which this picture was bought in 1865), has an excellent specimen of one of these studies, called 'The Dead Orlando'" (Stirling's Annals of the Artists of Spain, 1848, p. 680). Other authorities ascribe the picture to Valdes Leal (see 1291).

176

Among other points we may notice the beautiful landscape; "Nothing can be more perfect in pictorial effect than the old wall, the distant roofs, the gleams of light on water, and the exquisite tones of gray" (Gilbert's Landscape in Art, p. 263).

177

It may be interesting to note what Raphael's method actually was. He writes to Count Baldassare Castiglione, in a complimentary way: "To paint a beautiful woman, I must see several, with this condition, that your lordship be near me to select the loveliest. But there being a dearth both of good judges and of beautiful women, I make use of a certain idea that comes into my mind. Whether with benefit to art, I know not; but I strive to form such an ideal in my mind."

178

Readers of Ruskin will remember the high praise accorded to Richter's illustrations of the Lord's Prayer and other engravings in The Elements of Drawing.

179

See their Vittore Carpaccio et la Confrérie de Sainte Ursule, pp. 9-10, and Vittore Carpaccio, Le Vite e le Opere.

180

Raphael was born in 1483. In 1491 his mother died.

181

"Pisano's dragon is a pleasant-looking animal, wild-boar faced, and smilingly showing his fangs, as he crouches by the eminently gentlemanly St. George in the silver-plated and gilt armour; and a word in passing must be said for the lovely hog, with a broad grin overspreading his countenance, who accompanies the placid St. Anthony. Is not St. George, in the broad Tuscan hat, the personification of John Inglesant as il Cavaliere di San Giorgio?" (S. Beale in Good Words, July 1895).

182

"A splendid example of the naïve humour of the painter. There is the father, somewhat sly, and the eldest son resembling him but less 'cute. The next head is that of a jolly, sandy-haired fellow. Then comes the reprobate, with a sensual upper lip, the only one in the family; all the others have thin, long slit mouths, as well as long straight noses. Behind, are the poor relations. We see the good, hard-working cousin, who has found life too much for him; the self-approving fellow, who thanks God he is not as other men are; and above him the man who, if he has been saved from committing some terrible crime, certainly owes his exemption to God's mercy, not, we may be sure, to his own strength of will. On the other side are the ladies of the family. The severe mamma, with flat brow, a veritable Mrs. Grundy. The daughter, evidently a worldling by the jewelled band round her forehead, is praying, because it is the business of the moment. The easy-going maiden above her has taken to religious life because it affords her a certain amount of distinction, with a little soul-saving. Behind, is the old great-aunt, a really pious soul, who has adopted conventual life from a devout conviction that she could live better and do more good as a member of a community than dwelling in the world. Above, are two fat-faced children, both more or less bored; and behind them is another, fascinated by the jewels of her kinswomen" (S. Beale in Good Words, July 1895).

183

See Richter's Italian Art in the National Gallery, p. 44, where a résumé of recent criticism and a facsimile of the Albertina drawing will be found. Signor Frizzoni, cited with approval by Richter, says: "Although the composition seems to me not in the least attractive, nor even successful (and for this very reason the picture might have been left unfinished), yet I cannot but consider it to be an original, and, moreover, a specially interesting one, and worthy of being looked at closely by those who wish to study the master in the numerous characteristic features of his style. In my opinion it is an early work by him; and this becomes evident especially from the purity and delicacy in the features of one of the Maries, standing on the right side, in which, if I am not mistaken, the pure types of his first master, Domenico Ghirlandaio, are much more perceptible than Buonarroti's own grand style. In other parts, however, the sculpturesque manner of modelling peculiar to him is not less noticeable – in the muscles, sturdy as usual, and in the prominent rendering of the corpse." Symonds, on the other hand, has no hesitation in rejecting the picture. "It is," he says, "painful to believe that at any period of his life Michelangelo could have produced a composition so discordant, so unsatisfactory in some anatomical details, so feelingless and ugly. It bears indubitable traces of his influence; that is apparent in the figure of the dead Christ. But this colossal nude, with the massive chest and attenuated legs, reminds us of his manner in old age; whereas the rest of the picture shows no trace of that manner. I am inclined to think that the Entombment was the production of a second-rate craftsman, working upon some design made by Michelangelo at the advanced period when the Passion of our Lord occupied his thoughts in Rome. Even so, the spirit of the drawing must have been imperfectly assimilated; and, what is more puzzling, the composition does not recall the style of Michelangelo's old age. The colouring, so far as we can understand it, rather suggests Pontormo" (The Life of Michelangelo, 1893, i. 68). Sir Edward Poynter, on the other hand, will hear of no doubt: "There is," he says, "no doubt whatever that this picture is the work of the great master. The originality of the composition, the magnificent dignity of the poses, the perfection of the modelling, combined with the profound knowledge and subtle play of the anatomical forms where the work is complete, and the exquisite beauty of the drapery, all stamp it as a work which, if completed, would have been one of the masterpieces of the world, and possible to no one but the great master of design. It is thought desirable to insist on the grand qualities of this picture, because it has been ascribed to Bandinelli, a bombastic sculptor, quite incapable either of the refinement or of the subtle feeling for nature which is evident in all the finished portions of this work" (The National Gallery, i. 72).

184

According to one of the dramatic critics in the daily press, Sir Henry Irving in playing Richelieu was made up to resemble closely this picture; and (added the critic) the actor brought out the three sides of Richelieu's character here depicted. "At times we see him as the pitiless, unscrupulous man who forced himself from obscurity to a power greater than his monarch's; at others we see the fine courteous gentleman who patronised literature, founded the French Academy, and collaborated in half a dozen bad plays; and there is also not a little of the paltry, small-minded tyrant of whom Corneille said —

Il m'a trop fait de bien pour en dire du mal.Il m'a trop fait de mal pour en dire du bien."

185

See Morelli's German Galleries, p. 393. He dismisses the idea of an original Vicentine School as one which "cannot be entertained at all."

186

"By Gentile Bellini, and not by Giovanni, as stated in the Catalogue. The latter artist drew the ear of a different shape than did his brother Gentile" (Morelli: German Galleries, p. 10 n.). If by Gentile, the signature is forged or altered.

187

"I subjoin," writes the poet to his mother (December 23, 1880), "a sonnet I have done on the Michelangelo in the National Gallery. In this picture the Virgin is withdrawing from the child the book which contains the prophecy of his sufferings – I suppose that of Isaiah. The idea is a most beautiful one; and behind the group are angels perusing a scroll. Shields was helpful to me in the interpretation of this" (Letters and Memoir, ii. 365).

188

Signed Joannes Bellini, but by some critics ascribed to Gentile Bellini. See Frizzoni's Arte Italiana del Rinascimento, p. 314.

189

To the same effect, Sir Edward Poynter: "The painting of the green forest is the most perfectly beautiful piece of workmanship that ever was put into a picture" (Lectures on Art, p. 128).

190

But see note on No. 53.

191

"Unfortunately, Hobbema has allowed some one, apparently Wyntrank, to put a few ducks into the foreground. They are not wanted, and the manipulation required to fit them in has caused the lower part of the picture to darken disagreeably" (Armstrong: Notes on the National Gallery, p. 38).

192

Ruskin speaks of him as an artist "first-rate in an inferior line" (On the Old Road, i. 558).

193

Some of Mr. Gladstone's purchases for the National Gallery are noticed in the introduction to Appendix II. The "Ansidei Madonna" was also purchased by a special vote when he was in power. The Gallery owes the present picture to Mr. Disraeli's taste. "I happened," says Sir William Fraser in his Disraeli and his Day, "to be at the saleroom in King Street: the crowd was considerable. A picture was on the easel for sale; I did not know the name of the painter: the subject, 'The Nativity,' of the pre-Raphaelite school. I was so charmed with it that I bid up to two thousand pounds. I then felt that I could not trust my judgment further: that I might be mistaken: and that the picture might be 'run up' for trade purposes. It was bought for £2415. A few days afterwards I met Mr. C. Having noticed him in the crowd, I said, 'Do you happen to know who bought that "Francesca"?' 'I did. Disraeli told me to buy it for the National Gallery.'"