PICTURES AND ARTISTS.
EXHIBITION OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY, SOMERSET HOUSE.
THIS is perhaps the best exhibition, viewed as'a whole, that we have seen at the Royal Academy; for though it may not contain a larger number than usual of pictures of the higher class, they are more uniformly of a greater excellence. The artists seem generally to have rightly estimated their powers, and have exerted them accordingly with better effect. Taken as one of a series of annual displays of the elite of the British school, it is highly creditable to our native artists. There is only one very large picture ( APCsiss's), and none of which the figures are of the life size, excepting of course the portraits ; the majority of which would have been better if less. Grandeur is not measurable by the foot-rule. Size in a picture is no criterion of elevation; and mere physical greatness sinks under its own weight unsupported by a powerful genius. We are glad to see historical as well as poetical subjects painted on a small scale, suited to private dwellings. As the encouragement of art in this country mainly depends on individual patronage, the temptation to purchase works of a high class should be made as strong as possible. We are also pleased at noting a -decided improvement in the mode of painting of more than one artist of talent. This 'deference to the general opinion manifests that good sense which is the characteristic of all well-disciplined minds, whatever be the amount of genius. We have frequently had the unwelcome as well as ungracious task of finding fault; and we enter with alacrity on the agreeable duty of bestowing praise.
HISTORICAL AN D POETICAL DESIGN.
LESLIE here claims precedence, by right, on the ground of his preeminent merits, and by courtesy on the score of his absence last year. We joyfully welcome his return to England and the Academy. He exhibits two pictures, both of first-rate excellence. " Gulliver's introduction to the Queen of Brobdignag " (89), is a subject that, as far as regards the representation of the gigantic size of the Brobdignaglans, must either be successful or the reverse; there is no medium : LESLIE has failed in this respect. They look like ordinary mortals, and Gulliver a Liliputian, or rather a little toy mannikin, for his dress assists the stiff and wooden attitude of his figure. It may be asked how could this defect have been prevented? By making Gulliver's form the scale of the picture, as Swirl' does in his descriptions. LESLIE, giant in art as he is, is no Brobdignag; and therefore should have seen in imagination all objects but Gulliver on the ultra-colossal scale of the story. To convey this idea as it appears to us, the scene should have seemed too large to be contained in the picture. We fancy a Iluilli of the size of ordinary mortals, as LESLIE paints them, embracing the finger of a monstrous hand and arm resting on a surface whose texture would be like that of a woof of cordage ; while over the near edge of this interminable waste of tablecloth would peer the Poly. pheme-like eyes of an enormous infant. The texture of the flesh and hair would resemble the appearance of ours as seen through a poiverful microscope; which doubtless gave Swirr the idea. A sarcophagus, of a snuffbox, the great glass vase as a salt-cellar, or some other little item in common use on an equally stupendous scale, might assist the illusion. The difficulty of the costume, too, would thus be avoided. LESLIE has met this cleverly, by giving a preposterous style of headdress, and attire of a heterogeneous fitshion. Viewed apart from this one grand objection, the story is well told. The astonishment and delight of Glumdalelitch ; the prying curiosity of the old Queen ; the infantile surprise of the child ; the subdued eagerness of the page to get a sight of Grildrig; and the grudging glance of contemptuous won. der of the treasurer irlio pays the money to the rustic, whose little boy is crying at the loss of his favourite plaything ; are all admirably expressed. " Columhus and the Egg" (89), is a more natural sub. ject, and therefore a more successful picture. Columbus's host, the Cardinal, smiles with exultation at the triumph of his illustrious guest ; while the attitude and air of the discomfited coxcomb, who leans across the table, proclaims his mortification ; which is also reflected in the significant looks and gestures of the rest of the guests, and of the very serving-men. The ease, spirit, and nature with which the whole scene is presented to the eye, as in reality, evince the vivid truth of the artist's conception. The beads are varied ia character as well as in expression ; and they are of the kind that we admire in fine old paintings, not insipid modern physiognomies. Columbus unfortunately is the only one that does not satisfy us. His fate is too formal ; its expression complacently pedantic ; and his air is that of a lecturer who has performed a successful experiment rather than that of a great man who has vindidated his fame and silenced a shallow caviller by a witty and pleasant rebuke. The arrangement of the picture, the selection and treatment of the costume, the way in which the formality of a dinner-table is got rid of, and the effect of candle-light, though minor points, materially contribute to completeness and verisimilitude, and show the accomplished painter. The executive part of the Brobdignag picture, too, is masterly. LESLIE is unrivalled in conversation pieces, he does not pretend to epic dignity.
WASHINGTON IRVING'S Life of Columbus hiss also furnished subject to Wise's:. " Columbus Explaining the project of his intended Voyage for the Discovery of the New World, in the Convent of La Ititbida" (64). Columbus is seated at a table intent on the working, out of his great geographical theorem. Beside him sits the Prior, in a cowl and shovel-hat (is not this an anachronism, by the way?) attentively watching the demonstration. The physician, Garcia Fernandez, who approved of the enterprise, is eagerly leaning forward over the table. Diego, the son of Columbus, and the companion of his journey, the painter apparently intended to represent so absorbed in the interest of the scene as to disregard the cravings of hunger, for the boy bolds the loaf and cup in his hand : but his look is vacant, and directed to the grapes rather than the map. Alonzo Pinzon, the sea captain who sailed with Columbus, is in the background holding a telescope (for what purpose ?) as if he were sheathing a dagger ; and with an expression most furtive and assassinlike. Columbus looks grave and self-possessed ; but his face is more characteristic of a wily tactician than a great discoverer. Surely he would have been more animated at unexpectedly finding attentive and favourable listeners to his mighty project ; and they too would have been wonder-struck at the astounding intelligence. The character of the faces, as well as their expression, is somewhat contracted; so that the persons look like cold, calculating, selfish men, discussing some point of personal interest, rather than intelligent inquirers into the probable truth of an abstract proposition, of no less grand importance than the existence of a vast unknown continent—a new world ! This shows the character of the painter's mind, and the narrow sphere of his fancy. It is a fault common, but in a less degree, to all his works. We never, in our remembrance, saw a frank, open, genial face, hi a picture by : they are all more or less hard, and pinched-up. This defect must incapacitate Lim from becoming a painter of lofty subjects. lits mind does not expand and rise with his theme. In matter-of-fact 051 every-day scenes lies his great strength. In them, his close and minute perception of the varying expressions of ordinary character, especially in the shrewd and comic, serves him well. Witness his.citpital little picture " The First Earring" (88). How truly the flinching endurance of the girl, who is enabled to bear the pain by thinking of her trinkets—and the matter-of-course intentness of the spectacled dame, who is boring the ear as if she were threading a needle—are depicted ! Then, see what a ludicrous failure he has committedin attempting to make the Duke of Wellington look other than he is-to give him an air. The painting of the picture of Columbus is elaborate, forcible, and masterly, allowing for Wisere's peculiar tteachly colouring, and excepting the proportion of the figures, in which the artist has made a strange blunder. The heads and upper part of t e figures are nearly the size of life, while the lower limbs, as well as the accessories, are on a smaller scale. EASTLAKE exhibits but one picture—a most beautiful and highly finished one, of " Peasants on a Pilgrimage to Rome, fast coming in sight of the Holy City" (114). The expression of' .eagerneysteg!pered by reverence in the looks of the pilgrims is depicted with dsti cate truth. The faces of the women are exquisitely .sweet. I pamung suits this c aim:noir delineating the calm tenderness of feeling subdued by grief, pain, devotion, EASTI,AKE is unsurpassed by any painter ancient. or inodt His petite and (comparatively) feeble style of iass.
of emotions. This picture must be viewed therefore with ellowance for his peculiar style; which will account for and perhaps excuse the softened character of the male peasants : and with this slight qualiti. cation, it will be regarded as a perfect work of art. It is impossible to contemplate it without being touched with the feeling of the scene, if not actually partaking of the sentiment of the persons. There cannot be a higher and truer test of excellence.
ETTY revels in the beauty of lovely forms and sumptuous colours, " Venus and her Satellites " (94), is a feast of female charms, heightened by gorgeous draperies, and the contrasts of various hues. The flesh is solid, and brilliantly chaste. In his " Pluedria and Cymochles on the Idle Lake ' ()10), a scene from SPENSER, all the material part of the Poet's description is transferred to the paioter's canvas. ETTY paints the physique of beauty, free from grossness, but not etherialized by sentiment. His pictures embody the refinement of luxury and voluptuousucss but they appeal to the senses, not the mind. his colouring is more pure, but scarcely less opaque, than usual. His " Wood-tlyinpli and Satyr" (325), and " Warriors arming " (287), display the same qualities of art exercised on a sylvan and a warlike subject. 111'Crist: has produ ied a picture which for dexterity in the. executive
parr, and the displ ty of humour, fancy, and feeling—in short, for power of hand, originality of mind, and prodigality of invention—is mo:t extraordinary. It is entitled " The Chivalric Vow of the Ladies and the Peacock" (270) ; the subject of it king the taking an oath (of fidelity, we suppose,) by the knights at a farewell banquet previous to their departure for the wars. The knights, armed cap-dpie, awl their ladies, with the usual motley tribe of monks and retainers, are assembled at table. Two beauteous damsels bearing the peacock (which, by the by, looks better stuffed than with his own roasmd body) on a golden dish are presenting it before one of the lniglas; in whose effinninate face and redundance of whisker any one who has seen the original will recognize the IlittrMILLI. of the day, Count D'Onsav. How the artist who could conceive aid execute such a picture as this came to sacrifice the spirit of it to flatter a fashionable dandy, we cannot understand. This is enough to baulk the sentiment, and make us doubt if the painter was in earnest. The conscious air of the ladies in the principal group, who look as if they felt that they were very handsome and being admired, greatly lessens the effect of their beauty. The lady leaning on the knight's shoulder seems looking down to see how beautifully her arm bangs in its loose sleeve ; and it is so exquisitely painted, we can almost excuse her. There are faces, however, whose expression is perfect : such are those of the girl pulling oden the flower, the arch glance of the fair chess-player, and the merry girl peeping in through the bars of a 1:»iglit's visor. These show no'conscionsness of the act or of their charms. The fervour and energy of look and action of the knight drawing his sword, are in the true chivalrous spirit. The smile of the knight in the foreground is hard and set ; but the laugh of the soldier at the fool crowning his .cockst omb with a helmet is hearty and spontaneous. These inconsisteacies show that the defect we allude to is one that the painter can remedy. There are numerous points of humour and character in the picture such as the attitudes of some of the knights in the procession in the background, who are turning half round to wave their adieus to their ladies above ; the knight carving with his dagger and helping himself to a slice of ham with his gauntlet; the distorted faces of the trumpeters, the pompous air of the drummer, and the solemn looks of the bearded harpers. In short, it is a picture to be read. It makes its impression on the mind, as the composition does on the eye in detail, not as a whole. It wants totality both in conception and execution. There are many parts displaying beautiful drawing and wonderful force, clear
/less, and richness of colouring. The page holding the helmet stands in a gallant and go aceful attitude, and is characteristic of a young sprig of knighthood. The armour is real : the costumes are elaborately superb, and appear to be correct. But these parts want massing and combining, and harmonizing into an ensemble by means of pictorial effect; just as the painter's ideas appear to lack the fusing power of a vigorous and comprehensive imagination. If he possess a large grasp of mind to take in the whole of n great subject at once, it will be his own fault if he do not prove the foremost painter of his time. But if he have not, by attempting less he would accomplish more. We must leave the rest of this class to notice the leading pictures of others.
RUSTIC SCENES AND CATTLE.
EDWIN LANDSEER displays his unrivalled powers of imitation in
" A. Scene in the Grampians—the Drovers' Departure" (167). A family group (whose faces resemble the Russeees) are assembled round the door of a mountain-hut, and the last of a great drove of oxen and sheep spread over the plain, are loitering near. The old man is seated, and the gudewife looks at him with a face of anxious care for his bowed frame and silver hairs. A girl is filling a horn with :‘
mountain-dew" for the wayfarers, and a stalwart young man is tak
inks farewell kiss of his infant. A little way off two lovers are enrying.a parting tete-is-tete. A white horse grazing in the foreground, is life itself: the position of the animal, and the turn of the neck as he leans his head to one side to crop the turf, are beautifully true to nature. The painting. of the animals, in short, is perfection : nor are the figures less life-like. The. whole scene is real—with one exception it wants atmosphere. As it is, he groups look scattered, and the distance crowds upon the eye.. 1 he picture is full of characteristic incidents, and exquisite handling; and the artist may well be excused his reluctance to subdue parts even to improve the whole.
, LANDSCAPE.
In this department TURNER is transcendent. He exhibits five pictures, each different from the other in subject and effect, and all resplendently beautiful. "The bright Stone of Honour" (74), is a poetical View on the Rhine, showing the roek of Ehrenbretstein burnished with the bright golden rays of sunset. The tomb of Marceau is in the middle distance ; and we scarcely need the quotation from BYRON to make us feel the force of this association of his fame with "the bright stone of honour." It is a splendid tribute of genius to one of the champions of freedom. " Venice from the Porch of St. Salute" (l4), is a companion picture to TURNER'S view of the Ducal Palace
of last year. The scene is represented .under a cool bright sky, which shows the buildings in the purity of the:r local colours ; the gorgeous effect being produced by the draperies and flags that (in honour of some saint, we suppose) decorate a group of boats in the centre. It is a superb picture. " Keelmen heaving in Coals by Night " (24), is a view on the Tyne; on which the full moon pours a flood of silver radiance that fills the scene, excepting the dusky line of colliers, with the light and smoke of the beacons on the river-side. The aerial brilliancy of the effect is surprising. The tone seems too like daylight ; but a year or too hence it will be as bright and true a night scene as ever—or rather never was painted. " Line Fishing off Hastings" (231), is a beautiful inarine piece; and " The Burning of the Houses of Lords and Commons " (294), is another wonderful effect of fire, seen from a high point of sight down the river. The sheet of flame that is carried across the sky and is reflected in the water is a stroke of art that none but a master could dare. It looks too flaring just now, especially us the scene is very slightly painted: we should like to see it a year hence. TURNER paints for posterity, and allows for the effect of time, as Robin Hood when he shot allowed for the wind : and linving seen the effect of TURNER'S aim, we will not while his arrow is in tnid-tiight venture to doubt its hitting the mark. CALLcorT's largest and most brilliant picture (13) is a view on the " Genoese Coast, near Rieco," under a bright morning effect of sunlight, with peasants, and a string of mules on the road. It is elegantly composed, and has a charming feeling of nature ; but the sunlight is but yellow paint after all. lit the " Approach to Verona" (101), and " Lego di Garda " (118), the compositions are studied and classical ; but the sunlight is weak and cold for an Italian climate. " Resting from the Harrow—Mid-day" (66), is a delightful rustle scene ; and the effect is true in sonic aspects of our climate. STANFIELD, we are glad see, has renewed his youth ; and has psinted three bright and beautiful scenes ; of which the " Scene near Livonzi its the Gulf of Venice" (8), struck us as;most clear and brilliant in colour and tone, and graceful in composition. " On the Coast of Normandy" (:366), and " Fisherman's abode at Mezzorto" (315), are both charm:: mg pictures too; but we took too hasty a glance at them.
To complete our coup-theil of the prominent works of art, we turn to THE PORTRAITS.
These are not less numerous than usual, but they are more mediocre. BRIGGS has outstripped all his contemporaries, and takes his station as the first portrait-painter of his time; occupying most worthily the place of LAWRENCE. His whole-length of Lord Eldon is a masterpiece. We never saw individual character more truly, strongly, nobly portrayed. Time venerable lawyer is seated in his easy-chair, "in his habit as he lives," and we dare say in his accustomed attitude : he seems actually present to us. He lives, and breathes, and thinks. • There never was or need be a finer portrait than this. The style of painting is broad and powerful, but sober and unostentatious as truth itself. With what unaffected dignity, and grandeur, too, 'limns has portrayed "Mrs. Austin" (20). What a contrast does this pert and petty portrait of the Duke of Newcastle by PICKERSGILL present to old Lord Eldon. PICKERSGILL'S whole-letigth of the Duke of Wellington is as ludicrous a failure as WILKIE'S. MORTON'S (273), is the only likeness ; it is very characteristic. Sir Minns SHEE has painted another flaring set of robes, and stuck the poor King in a most pompous and imbecile attitude, as if he were showing them off. His portrait of Lord Abinger is very weak : and what a farthing face lie has given to Lord Brownlow ! PHILLIPS.II female portraits we prefer to his gentlemen. His portrait picture of" AtinaCommena " (119), is designed with a noble simplicity; and painted in a broad and powerful manner. SIMPSON'S portraits of Donna Maria, the young Queen of Portugal (2041, and of Admiral Napier (333), are interesting and well painted. Napier's look is very characteristic.
We just peeped at the SCULPTURE;
And saw that in GIBSON'S " Sleeping Shepherd Boy" (1048), and BAILEY'S "Mother and Child," we had a high gratification awaiting us.
We shall resume our account of the Exhibition next week. There are a number of admirable works of art which we have yet to speak of —more, perhaps, than we are as yet acquainted with.