FOOTNOTES:[a]See Plate 9.[b]Frick Collection, New York.50[c]See Plate 8.[d]Uffizi Gallery, Florence.[e]See Plate 10.[f]See Frontispiece and Plate 11.[g]"E di belle donne, io mi servo di certa idea che mi viene nella mente." Letter to Castiglione.
FOOTNOTES:
[a]See Plate 9.
[a]See Plate 9.
[b]Frick Collection, New York.50
[b]Frick Collection, New York.50
[c]See Plate 8.
[c]See Plate 8.
[d]Uffizi Gallery, Florence.
[d]Uffizi Gallery, Florence.
[e]See Plate 10.
[e]See Plate 10.
[f]See Frontispiece and Plate 11.
[f]See Frontispiece and Plate 11.
[g]"E di belle donne, io mi servo di certa idea che mi viene nella mente." Letter to Castiglione.
[g]"E di belle donne, io mi servo di certa idea che mi viene nella mente." Letter to Castiglione.
Limitations of the portrait painter—Generalizations—Emphasis and addition of qualities—Practice of the ancient Greeks—Dignity—Importance of simplicity—Some of the great masters—Portraiture of women—The English masters—The quality of grace—The necessity of repose.
While in the scale of the painter's art, portraiture ranks next to the higher branches of historical work, yet it is some distance behind them, for apart from the commonplace of scenic arrangement, the imagination of the portrait painter cannot be carried further than the consideration of added or eliminated details of form and expression in relation to a set subject. But these details are very difficult, and so it comes about that a good portrait involves a far greater proportion of mental labour than the result appears on the surface to warrant. It is indirectly consequent upon the complexity of his task that the work of the artist who devotes practically his whole time to portraiture, often varies so largely in quality. He paints some portraits which are generally appreciated, but as time goes on he is overwhelmed with orders which he cannot possibly fulfil without reducing the value of his work. He thus acquires a habit of throwing hiswhole power into his work only when the personage he represents is of public importance, or has a countenance particularly amenable to his manner or style. It is necessary that this fact should be borne in mind, otherwise erroneous standards are likely to be set up when artists like Van Dyck, Reynolds, or Romney, are referred to as examples.
In a general sense nearly all painting where the human figure is introduced, is portraiture, and it has been so since soon after the middle of the fifteenth century, when artists commenced to use living men and women for secondary or accessory figures in sacred pictures. The increasing importance attached to the anatomy of the figure resulted in the extensive use of models, and so in a measure portraiture rose to be a leading feature in the work of the artist. The figures in the larger compositions of every kind by the greater painters of the late fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries, consist almost entirely of portraits of friends and acquaintances of the artists, the exceptions being the countenances of the Deity and Christ, which had to be modelled from accepted types, and those of the later Saints the character of whose features had been handed down by tradition. A few painters, as Raphael and Correggio, idealized the Virgin away from suggestion of portraiture, but others, as Del Sarto and Pontormo, even in this case took a wife or other relative as a model. The practice was continued by many artists in respect of central figures, till the end of the seventeenth century, after which time the identity of the figures was, as a rule, purposely lost. Nevertheless the figures, otherthan ideals, used in all good compositions, must necessarily be portraits or adaptations thereof, for only from life can superior representation of life be obtained.
The first duty of the portraitist is to generalize the expression of his subject. A face seen once will be thrown upon the mind only with the particular expression observable at the moment of view. If seen a second time we involuntarily combine the effects of the dual experience, and the more often we see the countenance, the more closely will our mental picture of it correspond with the general or average expression worn. It is this average appearance that the portraitist tries to represent, emphasizing of course whatever good qualities may be indicated. The second most important task of the artist is to balance every part of the picture, so that neither setting, nor colour, nor handling, is strikingly noticeable. The portrait should appear at first glance as one complete whole, in order that the mind of the observer be immediately directed to the subject, and away from the artist or the manner of execution. The painter is limited to the actual character and physiognomy of the figure. He must make each feature harmonize with the others, and add or subtract, hide or reveal, without changing the general individuality, but he cannot do more. His scope is, therefore, strictly limited. Very naturally some of the greatest portraitists have rebelled at this limit. They appear to have painted with an eye to posterity, rather than to satisfy their patrons and the people of the time with an effective generalization of character and bearing.If we compare the portraits executed by Titian with those representing certain accessory figures in some important compositions of the great masters, as for instance, the School of Athens of Raphael,[a]and the Death of St. Francis of Ghirlandaio,[b]we find a marked difference. The latter are obviously true portraits of living men, with little accentuated or eliminated, just such portraits as Carlyle wanted from which to obtain real instruction for his biographies. Titian painted no portraits of this kind. He gives a lofty bearing to every person he portrays. His figures seem to belong to a special race of men, endowed with rare qualities of nobility and dignity, with little interest in the doings of ordinary people. Yet we know that some of his characters lived in an atmosphere of evil. We cannot really believe that the Aretino of Titian[c]was Aretino the man, and we find it hard to imagine that Philip II.,[d]or the Duke of Alba,[e]as Titian painted him, could grow into the monster he proved to be. Nevertheless Titian was justified. It is not the business of the artist to consider the historian: his art is all that concerns him. Titian produced beautiful pictures which are commonly recognized as great portrayals of character; whose character matters not, though when we have data upon which to rest a judgment, we find the lineaments in his works are fully sufficient for purposes of identification.
While Titian went further than any other Renaissance painter in ennobling his subjects, he did not approach the ancient Greeks in this respect. Their sculptured busts and terms represent the highest portraiture known to us. Many examples remain, mostly copies it is true, but quite fifty of them are clearly faithful reproductions, made apparently in the early days of Imperial Rome, and accord closely with the few existing originals. The Grecian portraits differ from the Roman, and all later painted or carved portraits in a most important feature.[f]The latter aimed at what is still understood as the highest level in portraiture. They endeavoured to give a general individualism of mind and bearing, avoiding particular expression; in fact to represent character. Since the Christian era commenced neither sculptor nor painter has gone further than this, with very few exceptions in Roman days when Grecian sculptors of the time imitated the practice of the fourth and early third centuries. The earlier Greeks on the other hand not only generalized portraits in an extreme degree, but, except in the case of athletes, they altered the contour of the head and varied the actual features of the subject, so that the possession of the higher human attributes should be indicated as clearly as possible. They invariably showed a large facial angle, placed the ears well close to the head, sunk the eyes deep in their sockets, and ennobled the brows to suggest majesty or profound thought. In fact the Grecian portrait heads only differ from their sculptured gods in that particularcountenances are depicted, and consequently the expression in them does not appear to be above the possibility of human experience. Apparently in Grecian times, only men who had become celebrated in some way were represented in stone, and hence the artist had features to depict which could be semi-idealized without impropriety. Even Socrates, whose ugliness was proverbial, was given a noble and dignified expression.[g]
PLATE 13PLATE 13Roman PortraitureHead of Vespasian Head of Hadrian(Seepage 145)
(Seepage 145)
That the painter is at liberty to follow the example of the Greeks, there can be no question from the point of view of art, for his first object is to produce a beautiful picture; but in portraiture, practical and conventional considerations have to be met, with which other branches of painting are not concerned. With rare exceptions the portraits executed are of living persons, and extreme accentuation of high qualities would be likely to result in a representation of the sitter that would appear false to contemporary observers, though we might well imagine that a work exhibiting this accentuation would seem to be of high excellence in the judgment of future generations. There must therefore be a line drawn in respect of added or accentuated qualities, and the position of this line would naturally vary with the celebrity of the subject and the power of the artist. Something definite may, however, be said in regard to the emphasis of certain qualities of form, and particularly of dignity, a feature that has occupied the attention of some of the greatest masters.
The question arises, how far may the artist go inimitating the manner of the stage with his portraits? On the theatrical stage formalities are required with certain characters in order to emphasize their position—to assist in the recognition of their standing or relative significance in the drama, for it is of the first importance that the audience should comprehend the meaning of the actions presented as rapidly as possible. The actor must often exaggerate life habits of pose and manner in order to heighten the contrast between two characters, or to give special significance to the words. And the elevation of the diction sometimes compels this exaggeration. In high drama where the language used is above experience of ordinary life in measure and force, there must be appropriate pose and action to accompany it, and hence a height of dignity or even majesty may appear perfectly proper on the stage, which would be ridiculous in surroundings away from it. From the practice of certain painters it would seem that they have looked upon portraiture as the transference of their subjects to the public stage as it were, so that they might appear to occupy a higher position in the drama of life than that to which they are habituated. No harm can arise from this provided the portraitist does not pass beyond the custom of the theatrical stage, where, whatever the exaggeration, the representation appears, or should appear, appropriate to the action; that is to say, where the exaggeration is not recognized as such. Accentuation of high qualities of expression, or even variations in certain physical features, such as the Greeks brought about, would not appear exaggerations in a portrait, but where dignity of form is added to such an extent that the observer immediately recognizes it as untrue to experience, then the artist goes too far. While this is so, we do not condemn Titian, Van Dyck, and the few other portrait painters who emphasized the quality of dignity of form in past times. The reason for this appears to be that the usual methods of teaching history lead us to suppose that nobles and leaders of society in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, who were usually the portrait subjects of the greater artists, commonly assumed a demeanour and bearing far above our own experience. At the present day, when it is a matter of universal knowledge that a formal dignified pose is very rarely assumed by any one, such a bearing in a portrait would be regarded as untrue.
The portraitist may improve the expression of his subject, adding any good quality within his power, and he may remove from the features or figure any marked physical defect, because the portrait would still appear to be correct; but if he add a strong dignified pose, then the result would be something that is possibly, but improbably accurate, and therefore inferior art. The quality of dignity should be expressed rather in the countenance than in the pose, the bearing of the form being produced as in life, for this lends assistance to the true representation of character. A dignified expression may well be appropriate to an awkward form whose personality would be undistinguished by dignity of pose.
Titian was the first great artist to give a pronounced dignity of form to his subjects, and he never varied from the practice unless the subject were exhibited in action,[h]or too old to be represented as an upright figure.[i]Nor did he once exaggerate the pose so that arrogance might be suggested. Though he squared the shoulders, he rarely threw back the head to emphasize the bearing,[j]and only in one portrait is the body slightly arched as the result of the pose.[k]In fact so careful was the artist in avoiding over-emphasis, that there is a tendency in two or three of his figures for the upper part of the body to lean a little forward.[l]Obviously Titian gave this dignified attitude to his portrait subjects of set purpose, as in his general compositions there is no suggestion of it.51
Velasquez no doubt acquired his habit of lending dignity to his important subjects from the examples of Titian's portraits which came under his view in Spain. Except in one notable instance where the bearing is much over-emphasized,[m]he was equally successful with the Italian master in the practice, though many of his characters are far from lending him any natural assistance. In the case of a Court Dwarf, however, the high dignity given to him by the painter seems to require explanation.[n]
Before he went to Italy, Van Dyck followed the natural system of Rubens in posing his portrait subjects, but at Genoa he painted under the spell of Titian's memory, and thereafter during his whole life, he gave a dignified bearing to his figures whenever this was not opposed to individual traits. During his English period, when he undertook more work than he could properly accomplish, he sometimes over-emphasized the dignity of a figure by arching the body,[o]but as a rule he produced a just balance of pose and setting, completing altogether a magnificent series of portraits which remain the astonishment of the world.
It is obviously the duty of the portraitist so to design his work that the attention of the observer is concentrated upon the countenance of the subject immediately he has grasped the whole composition, and it is in the successful accomplishment of this object that the power of Rembrandt lies. He rarely used accessories, and in only a few cases a background of any kind. He avoided portraits where an elaborate setting was required, as for instance full length standing figures, of which he only painted two[p]; and in his many three-quarter length portraits, there is seldom more than a table or chair to be seen apart from the figure. With this simplicity of design, and with nearly all the available light directed full uponthe head of the subject, the eye of the observer of the picture is necessarily centred instantaneously upon the features. These are invariably cast into bold relief by perfect management of the chiaroscuro, and the correspondence with life seems as complete as it well can be. Rembrandt thus accomplishes the aim of every great artist: he executes a faithful picture, and throws it on the mind of the observer with the maximum of rapidity. Only artists of a high order can successfully ignore a more or less elaborate setting for a portrait, particularly if it be larger than bust size. Great care has to be taken with such a setting lest the eye of the observer be attracted by the pose of the figure and the general harmony of the work before being directed to the countenance. If we take the general opinion of known portraits, so far as it can be gauged, we find that the most highly esteemed of them are: the Julius II. of Raphael, the Mona Lisa of Lionardo, the Man with the Gloves by Titian, the Old Man with a Boy by Ghirlandaio, and Innocent X. by Velasquez.[q]All of these except Mona Lisa are remarkable for the simplicity of the setting, and in the exception the formal landscape is altogether subordinated to the figure. Raphael was the first artist who saw the value of avoiding accessories in portraiture. His half-length portraits painted after his arrival in Florence, are all free from them, and his Julius II. has only the chair on which the Pope is seated.
Rembrandt further aided the concentration ofattention on the countenance of a sitter by the use of warm inconspicuous tones in the clothing, which harmonize with all kinds of surroundings in which the picture may be seen. The colours never specially attract the eye, and the attire consequently forms so completely a part of the figure, that after an inspection of the work one can rarely describe the costume. This subordination of colour is of the highest importance in portraiture, though it is not sufficiently practised nowadays. Velasquez used quiet tones whenever possible, that is, when he was not painting great personages, and Titian, Rubens, and Van Dyck, followed the same course in half-length portraits. None of these, however, seemed so careful as Rembrandt in adapting the tones to the general character of the figure, so that the impression left on the mind of the observer should relate entirely to the personality. Rembrandt, in fact, aimed at a representation of the man, and the man only; and he gave us a natural human being of a commonly known type, with his virtues somewhat emphasized, and his faults a little veiled.
The extraordinary power of Velasquez as a portraitist was due to the same general cause operating in the case of Rembrandt, namely, extreme simplicity in design. Apart from those instances where royal or official personages had to be represented in decorative attire, every portrait of Velasquez is merely the impress of a personality. There are no accessories; the clothing is subordinated to the last degree, and there is nothing for the eye to grasp but a perfectly drawn set of features thrown into strong relief bya method of chiaroscuro unsurpassed in depth and accuracy. Thus, as in the case of Rembrandt, the portrait fulfils the first law of art—the picture is thrown on the brain in the least possible fraction of time.
Velasquez was remarkable in a greater degree than any other artist, if we except Hals, for his facility in execution. In his brush-work he appeared to do the right thing at all times without hesitation, achieving the most perfect balance as if by instinct. So far as we can judge from those instances where his subjects were painted also by other artists, his portraits are good likenesses, but he followed the best practice in generalizing the countenance to the fullest extent. It is unfortunate that his work was confined to so poor a variety of sitters. Of his known portraits more than half represent Philip IV. or his relatives; eight others are nobles of the time, and another half dozen are dwarfs and buffoons, leaving only seventeen examples of the artist's work amongst ordinary people. There never was a weaker royal family than that of Philip IV., and it is really astonishing how Velasquez was able to produce such excellent works of art by means of their portraits. With his abnormal lips and weak face, the king himself must have been a most difficult person to ennoble, yet the painter managed in three portraits to give him a highly distinguished countenance and bearing, without in any way suggesting exaggeration.[r]Ofanother weak man—Innocent X.—Velasquez painted what Reynolds described as the greatest portrait he saw in Rome; and it is truly one of the most amazing life representations ever executed.[s]A reddish face peers out through a blaze of warm surroundings and background; a face in full relief as if cut out of apoplectic flesh—almost appalling in its verity. It is like nothing else that Velasquez painted: it overpowers with its combined strength and realism. But it is a picture to see occasionally, and admire as a great imitation. If one lived with it, the colour would hurt the eye, the unpleasant face would tire the mind. Such a face should not be painted: it should be carved in stone, where truth may be given to form without the protrusion of mortal decay. Bernini sculptured the countenance, and gave the Pope a certain majesty which no painting could present. As a life portrait the work of Velasquez is unrivalled, but as a pure work of art, it is behind the three portraits of Philip IV. already mentioned. A distinctly unhealthy face cannot be produced in portraiture without injuring the art, for it is a variety of distortion.
Velasquez was so naturally a portraitist that apart from his actual portrait work, every figure composition he painted seems to consist merely of the portraits of a group of persons. He took little pains to connect the figures in a life action, often painting them with a look of unconcern with the proceedings around them, as if specially posing for the artist. In several of his works there are faces looking rightout of the picture, and it is evident that in these the artist had little thought in his mind away from portrait presentation.[t]The Surrender of Breda and Las Meninas,[u]regarded generally as his best compositions, are admittedly portrait groupings, but the setting in each case is one of action, and hence the faces looking out of the picture are a great drawback, as they disrobe the illusion of a natural scene. That a man so accurate in his drawing, so perfect in his chiaroscuro, and so skilful in his brushwork, should yet be so conspicuously limited in imagination, is a problem which art historians have yet to solve.
Franz Hals was on a level with Velasquez in respect of facility in execution, and like him seems to have been a born portraitist. His brushwork was so rapid and decisive that in scarcely any of his designs is there evidence of deliberation. He seems to have been able to take in the essential features of a subject at a glance, and to transfer them to canvas without preliminaries, producing an amazing countenance with the least possible detail. Though some of his large groups are a little stiff, this is rather through his want of capacity in invention than a set purpose of exaggeration with a view to heightening the dignity of pose, for it is obvious that Hals had little imagination, and knew nothing of the boundless possibilities of his art in general composition. He appears to have passed through life without concern for his work beyond material results, being well convincedthat the magic of his execution would leave nothing further for the public to desire. In the last forty years of his life he made no advance in his art except in one respect, but the change was great, for it doubled the art value of his portraits. He learned how to subordinate his colours; how to modify his chiaroscuro in order to force the immediate attention of the observer on the countenance of his subject.52Such an advance with such an artist placed him in the rank of the immortals among the portraitists.
It will be seen that in the judgment of the greatest painters, decoration in a portrait should be altogether subordinated to the truthful representation of character, this practice being only varied when the personage portrayed is of public importance, and the portrait is required more or less as a monument. The rule is natural and reasonable, being based upon the universal agreement that the all-important part of a man comprehended by the vision is his countenance. But the rule only strictly applies to a single figure portrait, for when the painter goes beyond this, and executes a double portrait or a multiple group, he restricts the scope of his art. Other things being equal a double portrait is necessarily inferior art to a single figure picture, since the dual objective complicates the impression of the work on the brain, and the only remedy, or partial remedy, for this drawback possessed by the painter is to introduce accessories and arrange his group in a subject design. This plan results in detracting from the force of the actual portraits, as it divides the attention of the observer, but there is no help for it unless one iscontent with the representation of the figures in a stiff and formal way which extinguishes the pictorial effect of the work.
The greatest artists have avoided dual or triple portrait works where possible except in cases of gatherings of members of the same family, as one of these groups may be regarded as a unity by the observer. Nevertheless in his picture of Leo X., and the two younger Medici,[v]Raphael was careful to subordinate the cardinals so that they should appear little more than accessories in a painting of the Pope; an example which was followed not quite so successfully by Titian in his triple portrait of Paul III. with the two brothers Farnese.[w]A group of two persons who are in some way associated with each other, though unconnected in action, rarely looks out of place, as in the pictures of father and son, or of two brothers, painted by Van Dyck, or in The Ambassadors of Holbein,[x]but no painter has yet succeeded in producing a first-class work of art out of a multiple portrait group when the personages represented are unconnected with each other, either directly in action, or indirectly through association derived from the title. The picture of Rubens representing Lipsius and three others, would appear much more stiff and formal than it is, without one of the two titles given to it, notwithstanding the general excellence of the composition.[y]When the figures introduced are very numerous, as in the manygroups of civic organizations painted by Hals, Ravesteyn, and others, the compulsory formality seriously detracts from the æsthetic value of the works, however superior they may be in execution, or whatever the connection of the personages represented; and when we come to such crowded paintings as Terburg's Signing the Peace of Münster,[z]we obtain but little more than a record, though it be of absorbing historical interest.
It is observable that as a rule portraitists have been more successful with delineations of men than of women. This is to be accounted for by the necessity for subordinating the representation of character to the art in the case of women unless they have passed the prime of life; while with men the art is usually subordinated to the portrait, character being sought independently of sensorial beauty. Strictly it is the duty of the artist to make his portrait, whether of a man or a woman, sensorially attractive, but here again in portraiture custom and convention have to be considered with the rules of art. It is agreed that with a woman sensorial beauty must be produced if that be possible, even with the sacrifice of certain elements of character; but with a man the portrait must be recognized by the acquaintances of the subject as corresponding in most details with his life appearance. The future of the portrait is out of the question for the time being. Nevertheless the painter has certain advantages in dealing with the features of a man, for the presence of lines in the brow, or other evidence of experience, does notinterfere with the nobility or dignity which may be added to his general bearing; but what would be lines in the countenance of a man would be wrinkles in that of a woman, because here they can scarcely be neutralized by attitude and expression which imply strength of character, without destroying what is best described as womanly charm, which is a compulsory feature in every woman's portrait. With a man therefore the portraitist considers character first and emphasizes qualities of form within his power; while with a woman, during the period of her bloom, beauty of form and feature must be the first care of the artist, unconflicting qualities of character being emphasized or added.
All this was of course recognized by the great portraitists of the Renaissance and the seventeenth century, but while most of them endeavoured to enhance the sensorial beauty of their men subjects, little attempt was made to add intellectual grace to the portrayals of women. Antonio Moro[aa]and Van Dyck, in their full length portraits of women, sometimes succeeded in converting dignity of form into what we understand as grandeur, which implies dignity of expression as well as grace and dignity of form, but they were largely handicapped by the dress fashions of their times. They had to deal with heavy formal drapery which hung over the figures like elongated bells, and bid defiance to freedom of pose. When fashions and customs had so changed as to allow of definition being given to the figures, Van Dyck had been dead for many years. MeanwhileHals, Rembrandt, Velasquez, and hundreds of lesser lights, were casting around their flowers of form and mind, but all on the old plan, for it is difficult to find a portrait of a woman painted during the century succeeding Van Dyck, where beauty of feature is allied to nobility in expression.
PLATE 14PLATE 14Sacrifice of Iphigenia (Pompeian Fresco)Supposed copy of a painting by Timanthes(Seepage 168)
(Seepage 168)
The production of this combination awaited the maturity of Reynolds, who with Gainsborough, broke into a new field in the portraiture of women. Gainsborough took the grandeur of Van Dyck for his pattern, but improved upon it by substituting simplicity for dignity and elaboration, which he was able to manage without great difficulty, as he had a clear advantage over the Flemish master in that the costumes in use in his time were lighter in character, and permitted of the contour of form being properly exhibited. This simple grace of form allied to grandeur in bearing, naturally brings about an apparent modification in expression in conformity with it, so long as there are no conflicting elements in expression present, which Gainsborough was careful to avoid. Reynolds went further than Gainsborough, for after the middle of his career he directly added an expression of nobility to his portraits of women whenever the features would admit of it, and so brought about the highest type of feminine portraiture known in art. He was more nearly allied to Titian than Van Dyck, and though in sheer force of sensorial beauty he did not reach the level of the Venetian master, yet in pure feminine portraiture, where high beauty of expression is combined with a perfect generalization of the features, Reynolds isunsurpassed in the history of painting, so far as we can judge from examples remaining to us. For we must estimate an artist from his best work. Reynolds painted forty or fifty portraits of women of the character indicated, and a few of them, notably Mrs. Siddons as Tragedy,[ab]and Mrs. Billington as St. Cecilia,[ac]are amongst the most luminous examples of feminine portraiture in existence. There are many artists who equalled Reynolds in the representation of men, but there are very few indeed who even attempted to strike a just balance between sensorial and intellectual effects in the countenance of a woman.
With such great leaders as Reynolds and Gainsborough, it might have been hoped that the school they founded in portraiture would have taken a long lease of life, but it rapidly died away, leaving very few indeed of footsteps sunk deep in the sands of glory, save those of Raeburn, Hoppner, Lawrence, and Romney. But between Reynolds and Romney there is a wide gulf, for while the former sought for his beauty among the higher gifts of nature, Romney, with rare exceptions, was content with a formal expression allied to grace of pose. We may shortly consider this graceful attitude for it seems to be often regarded as an all-sufficing feature in the representation of women.53
The charm of grace lies chiefly in movement, and a graceful attitude in repose implies rest from graceful movement, but this attitude is ephemeral in nature, for if prolonged it quickly becomes an artificial pose.In art therefore, a graceful pose, whether exhibited in action or at rest, must soon tire unless attractive expression be present to deepen the impress of the work upon the mind of the observer. The general æsthetic value of graceful form in a painted figure varies with the scale to which the figure is drawn. With a heroic figure, grace is of the smallest importance; in one of life size, as a portrait for instance, the quality is of considerable assisting value; and as the scale is diminished, so does the relative value of grace increase. This is because details of expression can be less truthfully rendered in small figures than in those of life size, while in miniature figures certain high qualities of expression, as nobility, or a combined expression of mind and form, as grandeur, can be scarcely indicated at all, so that purely sensorial beauty, as that arising from grace of pose, becomes of comparatively vast importance. This was well understood in ancient times. The Grecian sculptured life-size figures are nearly always graceful, but the grace arises naturally from perfection of form and expression, and not from a specially added quality, a particular grace of pose being always subordinated, if present at all. On the other hand, in the smaller Grecian figures, such as those found at Tanagra and in Asia Minor, anything in expression beyond regularity of features is not attempted, but grace is always present, and it is entirely upon this that the beauty of the figurines depends. We may presume from the frescoes opened out at Pompeii, that the ancients were well aware of the value and limitations of grace in art. In all these decorations where thefigures are of a general type, as fauns, bacchantes, nereids, dancers, and so on, they are represented in motion, flying drapery being skilfully used to provide illusion. Grace is the highest quality evident in these forms, while the expression is invariably negative. For pure wall decorations, which are observed in a casual way, a high quality of grace such as these frescoes provide is all-sufficient, but as with the Greeks, the Romans did not make grace a leading feature in serious art.
With the great painters of the Renaissance, nobility, grandeur, and general perfection of form and expression, though necessarily implying a certain grace in demeanour, altogether dwarfed the feature of grace of pose. In the seventeenth century, grace was subordinated to dignity of form in the case of Van Dyck and Velasquez, and to actual life experience with Rubens and Rembrandt. When either of these last two added a quality of form to their figures, it was always dignity and not grace. Murillo was the first Spanish painter to pay particular attention to the grace of his figures, but he never gave it predominance. The French masters of the period, Le Brun, Le Sueur, Poussin, Mignard, and Rigaud, leaned too closely to classical traditions to permit of grace playing a leading part in their designs, though some of slightly lesser fame as Noel and Antoine Coypel, appeared to attribute considerable value to the quality. It was during this century in Italy that grace first appeared as a prominent feature in figure painting. In his pastoral and classical scenes, Albani seems to have largely relied upon it for hisbeauty, and Cignani, Andrea Sacchi, Sassoferrato, and others followed in his footsteps in this respect, though up to the end of the century no attempt was made in portraiture to sacrifice other features to grace of pose. Rosalba then made her appearance as a portraitist, and she was the first to rest the entire beauty of her work on sensorial charm of feature and grace of pose. She developed a weakened school in France which culminated with Nattier; and in England, Angelica Kauffmann, and some miniature painters, notably Cosway and Humphrey, took up her system for their life-size portraits, while many artists "in small" as Cipriani and Bartolozzi, assisted in forming a cult of the style. But of the greater British painters, only Romney gave high importance to grace of pose in portraits of women. It is safer for an artist to eschew grace of pose altogether than to sacrifice higher qualities to it. A little added dignity is always preferable to a graceful attitude in a portrait, because in nature it is not so evanescent a feature. Grace is a good assisting quality, but an inferior substitute.
The greatest repose possible is necessary in a portrait, as a suggestion of action tends to draw the attention of the observer to it, thus impeding the impression of the whole upon his mind. The leading portraitists of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries never erred in this matter, unless we except a single work by Titian—the portrait group of Paul III. and the Cardinals Farnese, where the last named has just arrived and is apparently in the act of bowing before completing his final step; but even here itmay be fairly argued that a moment of rest between two parts of the final action is to be presumed. It was not an uncommon practice of Van Dyck to pose a subject arrested in the act of walking, or with one foot on the lowest step of a stairway as if about to ascend; but in each of these instances the head is turned, and it is obvious that the motion is temporarily stayed.[ad]A similar pose was sometimes adopted by British artists of the eighteenth century with conspicuous success. If a portrait figure be painted in the act of walking on level ground, the feet must be together even if the moment represented be that between two steps in the action, because it is contrary to all experience for a man to rest while so walking, with one foot in front of the other. In a general composition the representation of a man walking with the feet separated is permissible, because it is part of a general action, and accessory in its nature, but in a portrait the beginning and end of the action depicted are usually unknown, and hence any action must be meaningless and disturbing to the observer.[ae]
The French and English artists of the eighteenth century followed the practice of their predecessors in avoiding the exhibition of movement in their portraits, but occasionally they departed from the rule. In his fine portrait of Mrs. Thomas Raikes, Romney shows the lady playing a harpsichord, with the fingers apparently in motion; and in his group of the LadiesSpencer, one of them is fingering a harp. The result in each case is a stiff attitude which detracts from the beauty of the work. Van Dyck managed such a design in a much better way, for in his portrait of his wife with a cello, she holds the bow distinctly at rest.[af]Titian also, when representing a man at an organ, shows his hands stayed, while turning his head.[ag]Reynolds moved aside once from the custom in respect of action,[ah]and Raeburn seems also to have erred only on a single occasion.[ai]