Nineteenth-Century French Painting : National Gallery.
ART
PUBLIC interest in good painting has increased astonishingly since the beginning of the war. One-man shows, mixed shows, travelling shows and stationary shows have been equally popular. One result is that English art has been able to blow its own trumpet loudly, and in the past two years we have had opportuni- ties of seeing more English painting of the nineteenth and twen- tieth centuries—in spite of the closing of the national collections— than we could ever have seen in previous corresponding periods. It is excellent that this should have been so, and it is also excel- lent that the present exhibition should be provided before the noise of our own trumpet began to seem raucous. As the fore- word to the catalogue puts it: " the exhibition will not only give pleasure, but will help to dispel the slight mist of provincialism which may settle on this country in its present isolation when not even the great painting of the past is available to set a standard of achievement." It comes as a good time for another reason, too. It is the English habit to be fifty years behind the times in the appreciation of masterpieces ; and so, though the discerning few know roughly what to expect among the flowers of Impressionism and nineteenth-centnry French romance at its pictorial best, many of the visitors will be seeing many of these pictures for the first time.
There is no pretence that the collection gives a total or even a balanced view of French painting of the century. It overbalances on the romantic side (there is nothing by Ingres or David) and focuses finally on Cezanne and the Impressionists. The Portrait of a Nubian is the only picture with news value. Attributed to Gericault, it is a fine painting recently acquired by the National Gallery—unrepresentative of that artist, but a pleasure to see. A fine Gericault Battle Piece has been added since the opening of the show. The pictures by Delacroix are all illuminating: The Lion, of wonderful dexterity, the Tasso of wonderful restraint and the Sardanapalus (study for the Louvre picture) of wonderful energy and inventiveness. An Odalisque is a welcome late arrival. The Daumiers are small but splendid. Of the Manets Le Bon Bock has the most interest and charm; of the Corots, L'Orrnes-l'Eglise. Seurat's Bec de Hoc and Sous Bois demonstrate once again that his work was one of the chief spurs of modern art, and his early death one of its major tragedies. The nine paintings by Cezanne include the Tate Gallery Landscape at Aix with its warm Naples yellow glow, and the rich-coloured Chateau Noir. All seem to have gained rather than lost with time, and with retirement in their war-time resting places. Those who complain that Renoir's Blonde is too sweet should return and prove that to be merely a deceptive first impression. A Sisley snow-scene, Degas interiors (including a version of the Ironers, that favourite subject), Boudin beach-scenes (their charm can be overstressed, the excellence of their work- manship cannot), Monet eye-fulls—all are here. Courbet and Berthe Morisot are in danger of being under-estimated on this showing ; the single Jongkind, the Forain and the Gauguin are obviously only vague reminders of their artists' powers. The triumph of Pissarro is a surprise, and.an exciting one. The whole
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