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Title: Spanish Painting
Author: Moret, Aureliano de Beruete y
Language: English
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SPANISH PAINTING
TEXT BY A. DE BERUETE Y MORET
(DIRECTOR OF THE PRADO MUSEUM, MADRID)
1921
EDITED BY GEOFFREY HOLME
“THE STUDIO,” LTD., LONDON, PARIS, NEW YORK
LIST OF ARTISTS WHOSE WORKS ARE REPRODUCED IN THIS VOLUME
IN COLOURS
PLATE
El Greco (Domenico Theotocopuli)
_La Gloria de Felipe II (The “Glory” of Philip II)_ III
Francisco de Ribalta
_San Pedro (Saint Peter)_ VII
Don Diego Rodriguez de Silva y Velázquez
_Venus y Cupido (Venus and Cupid)_ XII
Francisco de Goya y Lucientes
_El Columpio (The Swing)_ XXIV
Joaquín Sorolla
_Saliendo del Baño (After Bathing)_ XXXIII
Luis Masriera
_Sombras Reflejadas (Reflected Shadows)_ XXXVI
José Pinazo
_Crepusculo (Twilight)_ XXXIX
José Benlliure Gil
_Haciendo Bolillos (Lace-making)_ XLII
Fernando Alvarez de Sotomayor
_Paisanas Gallegos (Galician Peasant-women)_ XLV
Francisco Sancha
_Un Pueblo Andaluz (An Andalusian Village)_ XLVIII
IN MONOTONE
Hernando Yáñez de la Almedina
_Santa Catalina (Saint Catherine)_ I
Juan Pantoja de la Cruz
_Philip II_ II
El Greco (Domenico Theotocopuli)
_San Pablo (Saint Paul)_ IV
_El Entierro del Conde de Organ
(The Burial of the Count of Orgaz)_ V
_Retrato de un Caballero (Portrait of a Nobleman)_ VI
Francisco de Zurbarán
_El Beato Dominico Enrique Suson (The Dominican, Henry Suson)_ VIII
Don Diego Rodriguez de Silva y Velázquez
_Calabacillas el Bufon (Calabacillas, the Buffoon)_ IX
_Las Meninas (The Maids of Honour)_ X
“ “ “ “ (_detail_) XI
_Philip IV_ XIII
_Infante Baltasar Carlos_ XIV
“ “ “ (_detail_) XV
La Dama del Abanico (The Lady with a Fan) XVI
Fray Juan Rizi de Guevara
_Un Caballero Joven (A Young Cavalier)_ XVII
Bartolomé Esteban Murillo
_Moises tocando la Roca (Moses striking the Rock)_ XVIII
_El Milagro de los Panes y los Peces
(The Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes)_ XIX
_San Felix de Cantalisi y el Niño Jesu
(St. Felix of Cantalisi and the Infant Christ)_ XX
_La Caridad de Santo Tomas de Villanueva of Villanueva)_ XXI
Don Juan Carreño de Miranda
_Retrato de una Dama (Portrait of a Young Lady)_ XXII
Claudio Coello
_Don Juan de Alarcon_ XXIII
Francisco de Goya y Lucientes
_La Cucaña (The Greasy Pole)_ XXV
_Autorretrato (Portrait of the Painter)_ XXVI
_Conde de Fernan-Nuñez (detail)_ XXVII
_Infante Don Carlos Maria Isidro_ XXVIII
_La Condesa de Chinchou (detail)_ XXIX
_El Duque de San Carlos_ XXX
Eduardo Rosales
_Mujer saliendo del Baño (Woman leaving the Bath)_ XXXI
Mariano Fortuny
_El Patio de la Alberca en la Alhambra
(The Alberca Court in the Alhambra)_ XXXII
Ignacio Zuloaga
_La Señorita Souty_ XXXIV
Eduardo Martinez Vazquez
_Una Aldea de la Sierra de Gredos (Avila)
(A Village in the Sierra de Gredos, Avila)_ XXXV
Gonzalo Bilbao
_Las Cigarreras (The Cigar-makers)_ XXXVII
Ramón de Zubiaurre
_Retrato de mi Esposa (Portrait of my Wife)_ XXXVIII
Antonio Ortiz Echagüe
_Supersticion (Superstition)_ XL
José Gutíerrez Solana
_Carnaval en la Aldea (The Village Carnival)_ XLI
Claudio Castelucho
_Niños Gitanos en la Playa (Gipsy Children on the Beach)_ XLIII
Juan Cardona
_Altar de Mayo (May Altar)_ XLIV
Carlos Vazquez
_Una Dolorosa (Our Lady of Sorrows)_ XLVI
José Mª Lopez Mezquita
_Pilarcita_ XLVII
José de Marti Garces
_Interior_ XLIX
Nicolás Raurich
_Terruños (Rough ground)_ L
José Ramón Zaragoza
_Viejos Bretones (Old Bretons)_ LI
Conde de Aguiar
_Retrato de un Torero (Portrait of a Bullfighter)_ LII
SPANISH PAINTING--WITH SPECIAL REFERENCE TO THE EXHIBITION AT BURLINGTON
HOUSE, LONDON NOVEMBER, 1920 TO JANUARY, 1921
The exhibition of Spanish Painting held in London in the galleries of
the Royal Academy from November to January last, excited a lively
interest in the English public and inspired numerous articles on the
subject in English journals and reviews. If all of these were not in
accord on certain issues and critics adopted various points of view, it
may still be said that the crowds of visitors which it attracted and the
manifold expressions of opinion it evoked supply the clearest evidence
that the exhibition aroused the curiosity of the English public, and
consequently may be regarded as a triumph for Spanish art and a success
for its promoters.
The reasons underlying the interest which Spanish art awakens to-day in
enlightened circles (this is the second exhibition of the kind which
Spain has of late witnessed beyond her borders, recalling that of Paris
in 1920) are worthy of reflection and may be said to have inspired the
Royal Academy’s exhibition.
Spain--her life, history, customs, art--is often regarded subjectively
as though enveloped in a haze, or through the medium of legend, which,
however accommodating it may be to literary expression, is by no means
conformable to the facts of history or present realities. Viewed in this
picturesque manner and because of the isolation in which the country
remained for generations, and perhaps still remains, it has attracted
the attention of writers and poets, and even scientists and
philosophers, unfamiliar with their theme and dubious in their
assertions. Doubtless the typical, the true native spirit has not been
misunderstood by the outside world. Thus in the case of Cervantes and
Velázquez, their names are household words in every land. But the kind
of knowledge to which we allude is not usually imparted by such lofty
spirits, who speak to humanity from the heights, without distinctions of
race or frontier. That which they accomplish is only a part of the
national achievement. It is the medium in which it is fashioned, the
environment in which it comes into being, its artistic matrix, which
determines the precise type of racial endeavour. To its national
character the new Spain cleaves, and by its light her ideas will be
readjusted, her history interpreted, her present respected as in line
with her tradition, which, in the sphere of things artistic, Spaniards
regard as a potent factor in the advancement of world art.
Spain is familiarly spoken of as a country of distinctive character, and
is so not only because of its geographical situation, which has kept it
somewhat apart from frequented routes, but because it aspires to such a
reputation. At the present time it is incessantly productive of art, its
output exhibiting a specific character of its own, obvious and
intelligible to those who examine it with sufficient care. Undoubtedly
it has been influenced at certain periods by extraneous currents, but
during the sixteenth century, when the true Spanish school was created,
it was notably independent and unique. Its productions, these national
qualities which above all determine that which is called a school,
possess a character of their own, a special determinative essence, which
can only be explained by metaphysical processes. But at the same time
they display external manifestations, an ultimate expression, a speech,
an idiom, so to speak, peculiarly national. And this speech in art is
quite as fundamental as the spirit which determines the nature of the
creation. All-powerful, or at least very great, is the spiritual
capacity for creating mighty works _in mente_. But the various schools
of art came into being not only because they enshrined an idea, but
because they were able to give it form. The characteristics of the
expression, not of the idea, of form, not of essence, these it is to
which the critic should address himself in the first instance when he
desires to differentiate between the works of one school and another,
and when trying to distinguish the work typical of one artist from that
of others of the same school, who have been less successful in following
a common master. The creative idea, the spirit which animates every
work, is distinct, according to the period of its origin, even in the
case of the productions of the same race at different periods; but in
expression its form is always similar, its ideas the same. As in
literature writers of one nationality have to employ a common tongue, so
in painting an expression equally conclusive, a palette, a technique, an
idiom quite as definitive, determines the compositions typical of each
race. If we find scattered throughout a museum where there are examples
of all schools, a Saint by Greco, an ascetic figure by Ribera, a
portrait by Velázquez, an image by Zurbarán, a visionary subject by
Valdes Leal, a Virgin by Murillo, and a woman by Goya, it is probable
that these works will contrast with one another too forcibly, or at
least will not blend harmoniously. Each of them belongs to an epoch, and
possesses a distinct creative and æsthetic spirit. But, even so, we will
find that although the works belong to different schools, and variations
and dissimilarities abound, all have one speech, one ultimate idiom in
common; in a word, all have been painted in Spanish.
It is not easy to state precisely in what this ultimate expression
consists, but on general lines it is possible to affirm of Spanish
artists that their work is characterised by a decided tendency towards
sincerity, simplicity of composition and tonal harmonies in grey.
Velázquez appears to have fixed the character of the Spanish palette and
technique: the scale of very subtle greys, the harmonies of grey and
silver, the use of certain carmines and violets, first encountered in
the work of Greco, were tested and employed by him, as were those
coloured earths especially indigenous to Spain, the earth of Seville and
the preparation of animal charcoal, the use of which is noticeable in
his canvases. These determined the material elements by the aid of which
was developed a method of painting as simple as characteristic.
Velázquez, like the painters of the great Italian school and the schools
of the North, grew tired of conventionalism in colour and perspective,
and, employing an exuberant palette and gifted with vision of
extraordinary keenness, turned to the natural, and, with the lesson of
Greco before him, and by aid of his own gifts of observation, sincerity,
and a supreme simplicity, did not employ more than the necessary colours
to obtain those gradations of tone which to our eyes appear so natural
and present the harmony afforded by reality, the master by choice and
temperament inclining to those in which were combined all the shades of
grey. He created by his unique palette the true and unmistakable Spanish
style. Goya, more than a hundred years after him, during the close of
the eighteenth century and the beginning of the nineteenth, a period
when the national characteristics tended towards insipidity, maintained
this traditional spirit and thus saved Spanish painting from becoming
confounded with the works of his contemporaries in France and England.
The years which followed those of Goya, the remainder of the nineteenth
century, those years of easy communication, of rapid transit, of
frequent travelling, of international study and residence abroad, so
much more advanced in some respects, were less rich for Spanish
painting. Spanish artists, absent from their country, engaged in many
departments of work and instruction, lost something of their former
qualities. At the present time, in which there seems to have been born
into the world a new assertion and exaltation of nationality, Spaniards
have regained their ancient spirit, and while aspiring to absolute
modernity, remain faithful to a tradition which is peculiarly their own,
which makes for national individuality, and has caused them to be
regarded with that interest which always accrues to the original, the
characteristic, the intelligent, and consequently arouses attention and
anticipation.
* * * * *
England has ever followed the progress of Spanish art with enthusiasm
and interest. During the nineteenth century, the majority of the works
of art which left Spain found a resting place in England. In London
within recent years three exhibitions of Spanish painting ante-dated
that of 1920--one in the New Gallery (1891), another in the Guildhall
(1901), and the last in the Grafton Gallery (1913). All of them were
rich in results, more especially the third, which was remarkable for its
modern section. The difference in character between the exhibition of
1913 and that of the Royal Academy in 1920 consists more especially in
the display of works belonging to English collections, the latter being
composed for the most part of examples sent from Spain as an act of
homage to the English people, and to assure them once more of the
existence of a spiritual bond or tie between the two countries, which
with the passage of time aspire to a more intimate relationship.
It was at first the intention of the organisers of the exhibition of
1920 not to send as representative of the older art any except the works
of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries and a few pictures by Goya,
as examples of the golden age of Spanish painting, and especially in
view of the exceptional interest in Goya. But it was ultimately decided
to furnish an exhibit completely representative of all epochs. At the
same time the Spanish Committee recognised that the section devoted to
Primitive Art--in which among the many artists represented the most
remarkable was Ribera--was lacking in distinction. This it regretted and
felt a pleasure in its ability to compensate for the omission by
providing a full representation of the greater Spanish painters, and in
being able to lend ten Grecos and twenty-one Goyas, preserved in Spain,
to Burlington House, a thing until now impossible of accomplishment and
which it will not be easy to repeat.
The works of the primitive period placed on view, though all of peculiar
interest, and several of striking character, were still inadequate to
give a just idea of the development of early art in the Iberian
Peninsula. The first essays of Spanish art were indeed lacking in
national characteristics. At a time when Italy and Flanders produced
painters of distinctive note, Spain, and perhaps the whole
Peninsula--for in this connection we must not forget Portugal--filled
its churches, monasteries and convents with panels and altarpieces. With
the exception of the names of several artists now identified, all of its
productions are of doubtful paternity, its style is borrowed and in
general is distinguished only by the possession of regional
characteristics of a minor kind. Therefore the paintings on panel that
it produced are to-day referred to, in order to distinguish them one
from another, as belonging to the Castilian, Portuguese, Catalan,
Aragonese or Valencian Schools. For this there is an historical reason.
The Peninsula, at the time in which its early art was produced, was
divided into different kingdoms and states, each absolutely independent
and having its own history and traditions. Thus the kingdom of Aragon,
with Valencia, was intimately connected with the Mediterranean, and came
within the sphere of Italian influence. Castile was more closely related
to the states of Flanders and the Rhine, admitting and developing
Flemish and German tendencies. Catalonia possessed an art very similar
to that of Provence. But I believe that all this work, chaotic, lacking
in national expression, and in determinative characteristics, presents a
difficult problem for its investigators. Add to this that these panels
and altarpieces were often the joint work of several artists, one
painting costumes, others specialising in heads and hands, others in
drapery, still others in backgrounds, so that the whole resulted
frequently in a composition confused and equivocal. All that can be said
with any degree of certainty is that the production of this time was
large, rich and of great merit, so far as that can be attained by a race
of colourists who were lacking in discipline and insight.
This manifestation of pictorial art did not obtrude itself in any
decided manner until the fourteenth century. To discover its origin we
may have to compare it with the miniatures in the manuscripts of San
Isidor, or the archaic mural decorations traceable by Byzantine art, and
it would seem to possess a greater archæological than artistic interest.
Spanish art during the last years of the thirteenth century and until
two centuries later is so incomplete in its details, presents so many
diverse aspects, and the circumstances of its rise and tendency are so
vague, that to venture any general opinions regarding it would be
unwise. Its study has recently been confined to short monographs by
various critics and scholars, both Spanish and foreign, which do not go
beyond the discussion of specific works and artists, and the particular
investigation of obscure titles and documents exhumed from the archives.
The arrival of Starnina and the Florentine Dello at the Court of Juan I
of Castile in the second half of the fourteenth century, appears to have
given a very great impetus to that style to which the Spanish painters
were growing accustomed. But this Italianism notwithstanding, Flemish
influences penetrated, if more lately, still more rapidly into Spain.
The early Spaniards pursued and sought a realism in art which they were
unable to find in that of Italy, hence their predilection for the style
and manner of the Flemish and German painters and those of other
countries whom they came to call painters of the North. The appearance
of Van Eyck in the Peninsula in 1428, and that of other Flemish painters
who arrived there about that time, aroused a true enthusiasm and
imparted to Spanish art a tendency to copy faithfully from nature which
henceforth came to be one of the characteristics which have never left
it. Among these painters of the North it is strange to find, a little
before the middle of the fifteenth century, an artist called Jorge
Inglés (George the Englishman), so named, without doubt, from his
origin, who did some important work, especially in the hospital of
Buitrago, the study of which we heartily commend to the English public
and critics. We should like to have sent this work to the exhibition of
the Royal Academy, but its enormous dimensions, as well as other
circumstances, rendered this impracticable.
During this epoch, the composition of Spanish works begins to show the
use of colours prepared with oil, thus permitting the development of a
technique more in conformity with the Spanish temperament. Consequently
the new medium appears in the works of many masters, among the first of
these recorded being _La Virgen de los Consellers_, painted and signed
by Luis Dalmau in 1445.
Andalusia, a region which has come in more recent times to be regarded
as the cradle of Spanish artists, produced at this time not a few
painters. The work, _Saint Michael_, of the master Bartolomé de
Cárdenas, which was exhibited at the Royal Academy, pertains to this
rich and flourishing period, which gave an impetus to the forces then
impelling all Spanish life toward the national union which came to pass
in the reign of the Catholic kings. Two new centres of activity arose at
this epoch, which greatly fostered the rise of Spanish civilisation and
favoured the development of pictorial art--two cities glorious and
historical in Spain--Toledo and Salamanca.
Side by side with this budding art--which was in a certain sense
inspired by the schools of the north, but nevertheless began to display
a national tendency--a few isolated artists, either by preference or
training, still retained the Italian style. We recall the _Santa
Catalina_ of Hernando Yáñez de la Almedina (Plate I.), shown at the
exhibition, a work which has not been sufficiently appreciated and must
be regarded as a beautiful example of that period.
Arising at the close of the epoch of national unity, the House of
Austria, in the person of its most exalted representative, the Emperor
Charles V, commenced to govern the destinies of Spain. The victorious
expansion of Spanish arms, both in the Old World and the New, during the
first half of the sixteenth century, had but little influence upon
artistic effort, and none of the Spanish painters of this period are
regarded as the equals of their Italian, Flemish, German or Dutch
contemporaries. And our artists, at a time when the entire national
fortunes were hazarded in campaign after campaign, had enough to do to
maintain an epoch of gestation, to comprehend the laws and trace the
spiritual current of the Renaissance which now dawned upon the world of
culture. This great movement failed also to take a national direction
with Spanish artists, and the few books and treatises on art printed in
Spain during this period are poor in conception and lacking in
information.
Even to mention the names of the painters of the period, it would be
necessary to burden this critical sketch with a list of artists of
secondary importance. In his art Alonso Berruguete was certainly
Italian, but in spite of this, he gave to his works a marked national
stamp, maintaining in the central portion of the Peninsula a patriotic
inspiration which resulted later in a separate school of culture.
Valencia, with artists trained in Italy, was preparing a great
reputation for the future, and then a painter of individuality, isolated
in a minor province, and having few relations with the Court, created
with his brush an austere art, a little dry and stiff, ascetic in its
inspiration and scarcely suggestive at first sight, but striking in its
individuality, and reflecting that spirit of Spanish theology and
mysticism which was to dawn somewhat later. I refer to Luis de Morales,
the maker of all these _Dolorosas_ and _Ecce Homos_, so unmistakable and
so much esteemed in Spain.
We come now to the reign of the son of Charles V, Philip II, a man whose
memory has had to endure much criticism, but to whom, from the point of
view of art, his country owes not a few of those works which it
treasures most. The portraits of Moro, a wealth of Flemish and Italian
paintings and, among others, a very complete collection of Titians, are
due to the commands of Philip II, who, before he shut himself up in the
Monastery of the Escurial, and during his visits to Italy, Germany and
Flanders, was gathering choice examples of the art of that time, and of
the period immediately preceding it, installing in the castles of Spain
those paintings which are to-day the most important of the foreign
collections housed in the Prado Museum.
But meanwhile the true national output of those years, mostly of
religious pictures, was destined for the churches and convents, and must
no longer be regarded as of minor importance. Meanwhile, also, by royal
command, there arrived in Spain the works of foreign masters, and in
Court circles there arose a style of painting exclusively devoted to the
_genre_ of the portrait, and which is known to-day as the school of
portraitists of Philip II and Philip III. Its origin is known to us. It
is due to the teaching which our painters received from that famous
Hollander, Antonis Moor, who had so close a relation with our country
that his name has become hispanicised, and who is equally well known
to-day by his Dutch name, as by the more Spanish-sounding Antonio Moro.
Patronised by Philip II, he gave instruction to certain Spanish
painters, especially to one, Alonso Sanchez Coello, who was his disciple
and successor in art. Another Spanish follower of his, besides Coello,
was Pantoja de la Cruz, and the third and last of those who maintained
this school and who completed its cycle, was Bartolomé González, who
flourished during the first years of the reign of Philip IV. Other
portrait painters, disciples and imitators of these might be mentioned,
but the artists alluded to typify this school, brief in its development,
very distinguished and typical, though, as we have said, not of Spanish
origin. Their characteristics are quite unmistakable. They paint a
life-like portrait, dry, hard, minute in execution, and complete in all
its details, to the treatment of which they pay much attention,
especially as regards personality. But although skilful and sincere,
their school degenerated and the last of its manifestations is
practically an imitation of the first, possessing little excellence and
scanty inspiration. Portrait painters of the Court, as we have
indicated, the works of these men, though in general replete with strong
personality, especially as regards the royal family portraits, have been
scattered throughout the world, and were practically confined to the
palaces of other reigning houses.
In the London exhibition we were able to study the most important of
these several works, for example that of Pantoja, _Portrait of Philip
II_ (Plate II.), who is represented as elderly and on foot, a
full-length portrait which faithfully reflects the appearance of this
monarch, and which is housed in the Monastery of the Escurial. It
appeared at the Royal Academy, being lent for the purpose by His Majesty
the King of Spain. There were others, the property of His Britannic
Majesty, which are housed in Buckingham Palace, the portraits by Sánchez
Coello of the _Archdukes of Austria_, _Wenceslaus_, _Rudolf_ and
_Ernest_, the _Portrait of the Infante Don Diego_, and that of _Margaret
of Austria_. That by Pantoja, _Portrait of a Lady of the Palavicino
Family_ (regarding the authorship of which various doubts have arisen),
though not of artistic importance, certainly presents a critical
problem, for while the art of portrait painting was being developed in
Spain, in other countries and particularly in Italy, the disciples of
the school of Moor created works which might at times be confounded with
those of Spanish painters. Bartolomé González was also represented by
the portrait of the _Cardinal Infante Don Fernando of Austria_, lent by
the Marquis de Viana.
* * * * *
About the year 1575 there came from Italy to the city of Toledo, a young
artist, scarcely thirty years of age, born in the island of Crete, of
Greek parents. He was called Domenico Theotocopuli, and was known then,
as he is to-day throughout the whole world, as El Greco (“the Greek.”)
There was reserved for this man the mission of shaping and, in the
course of time, perfecting through the medium of his works, a technique,
especially as regards execution, performance and character, which is
manifest in all his creations, and the great enthusiasm which the lovers
of Spanish Art evince for it is natural and explicable. The fame which
the first works of El Greco aroused in Toledo reached the Court, and
Philip II commanded him to work in the Monastery of the Escurial on
pictures for the Church. They were at issue from time to time, the King
and the painter, and do not quite seem to have understood one another.
Philip II, used to an Italian and Flemish artistic atmosphere, and an
enthusiastic admirer of Titian, was unable to comprehend the work of El
Greco, which, though of the Venetian tradition, represented an
innovation profound and complete, and to-day, as four centuries ago, it
perplexes many people. But lovers of Spain, those who apprehend her true
genius and have studied her characteristics and idiosyncrasies, see in
El Greco one of the most interesting figures in international art. In
the spirit which appears in his works, the genius with which they have
been performed, the marvellous technique developed in them, and the
workmanship which gives such brilliance and quality to the colour, so
that it appears at times to have been executed with enamels, he
triumphs, disarming criticism, making us not only forget, but even
applaud the extravagances and lack of proportion of which his works are
full.
The work of El Greco may be divided into two distinct groups: one
comprising human figures in general, portraits; the other divine
figures, images, and religious paintings. In one work, the most complete
and important of all, the _Burial of the Count of Orgaz_ (Plate V.),
these two aspects are joined. The upper portion, the heavenly, which it
would seem the painter suffused with his idealism, is peopled with
divine figures, symbolic and incorporeal. In the lower part, which
represents an earthly scene, the form and colouring have the qualities
of things terrestrial. In the exhibition of the Royal Academy, in the
salon set apart for the works of El Greco, there were gathered ten
examples eloquent of these two phases of his effort. His _Self-portrait_
and _A Trinitarian_ exhibit the second; _The Annunciation_ and the
_Christ embracing the Cross_ the first. Another canvas which occurs to
one as affording a good example of his brilliance of colouring and
individuality is the picture full of miniature figures, _The “Glory” of
Philip II_ (Plate III.), sent to London by His Majesty King Alfonso
XIII.
In this collection of his works, as indeed, in all those from the brush
of this master, one could study the origin of the greyish tonality
characteristic of the Spanish school which he was the first to introduce
and give effect to, and to which Velázquez, in later years, gave
definite form, thus founding a technical characteristic of the school.
It may interest those curious regarding such problems of painting that
the shadows which abound in the works of El Greco, though intense, are
never black, and this lends to them a singular profundity and
atmosphere. From this relation of the light and shade, never attaining a
pure black or white, there results a wonderful transparency and
corporality, and all this is attained with fluid colours, in most
instances blurred and rubbed and nearly always rather soft, slight only
in the brighter places and in the points of light. He observes and
understands that the reproduction of these things in the art of the
painter is not due to faithful copying alone. The atmosphere, the light,
the reflections, which these objects display to our sight, change
according to conditions, and are represented on canvas not as they
actually appear, but according to the aspect they present to the vision,
modified by external agencies. Only thus is it possible to obtain the
impression of truth, of movement, of depth. In the work of the copyist
the objects and figures are petrifications, rigid and dead, in one and
the same plane, in which, perhaps, the ability of the artist can more
readily be appreciated, but which never gives the impression of movement
or of life.
Distinctive as a creator, originator and master of technique, statements
regarding El Greco’s artistic antecedents are debatable, as for example
the relationship to other masters of Byzantinism which some profess to
be able to discern in his pictures. But it remains clear that in his
typical works he is above all the true interpreter of the Spain that was
noble, pious and mystical, and the most sympathetic delineator of the
spirit of the time in which he lived. We believe that it is correct to
regard him as the adopted son of the Spain of his day.
Although his work has been discussed since the times of Philip II,
to-day it ought to be regarded as consecrated. It is not only among
painters that we should seek the true influence of El Greco. It is more
extensive, and embraces diverse manifestations, therefore the causes
which animate it are diverse. And so, in the studios of painters, in the
studies of the cultured, among wise and refined critics, among literati,
we may discover the most fervent and impassioned lovers of El Greco.
There exists, without doubt, an invisible bond between this painter and
the world of modern intellectualism, and this is owing in great part to
the enthusiasm which his works arouse, to the peculiar mystery in which
they are enveloped--which we do not find in any other painter--to the
suggestive power which he wields, to something which impassions and
completely subdues us. It is for this reason that disciples of El Greco,
who in past years were scarce, are to-day a legion in number, and their
pictures, once unknown and without value, are now celebrated and occupy
prominent positions in museums and private collections.
* * * * *
Neither Tristan, nor Mayno, nor Jorge Manuel Theotocopuli are figures
sufficiently important to allow us to say that El Greco, their master,
founded a school, much less that he formed with them the so-called
Toledan school, which, in reality, had no existence and did not give
rise to an output from that city possessing those marked characteristics
which would place it in the category of a school.
It has to be recorded that in the last years of the sixteenth century
Philip II brought from Italy several Italian decorative artists to paint
in fresco the extensive walls of the Monastery of the Escurial. He may
have wished to bring with him for the purpose some celebrated foreign
masters, but this was not possible, for the most important epoch of the
Italian Renaissance had come to an end; and instead of great masters,
there came others, decadents, facile “hacks,” who in a short time
covered these enormous wall-spaces with compositions of scanty
inspiration. We mention the visit of these painters to Spain, not
because of any importance it has in itself, but in order to show that
Spanish painters, even those of standing, have in all times been lacking
in the qualities which especially characterise the decorative painter.
Philip II might have encouraged Spanish artists. But whom--Morales, El
Greco, the artists of the Court, the lesser followers of El Greco in
Toledo? No, none of these appear to have been qualified to bring such a
task to a conclusion. This and nothing else was the cause of the coming
of the Italians; and for the rest the King favoured the works of various
Spaniards, placing many examples of their work in his palaces and in the
religious houses he founded. And so Spanish painting remained in this
particular position to the close of the sixteenth century and during the
first years of the seventeenth, which is regarded as its golden century,
when, in the midst of fruitful invention there arose four great figures,
each to-day world-renowned--Ribera, Zurbarán, Velázquez and Murillo.
What centres of artistic life did Spain possess at this time? Two,
fundamentally; those two cities which have since produced the greatest
number of painters and the most able--Seville, the capital of Andalusia,
the open gate to the New World, and Valencia, a Mediterranean port
exposed to the influences of that which had been the classical world,
and in close and direct communication with Italy, which bequeathed to it
the last sparks of the marvellous life of the Renaissance. In Valencia,
Francisco Ribalta, a conscientious painter, who had studied in Italy,
introduced a style of colouring after the manner of Ribera. In Seville,
frequented by all the Andalusian intellectuals, Pacheco, a most cultured
artist, came later on to be the master of Velázquez and Zurbarán. In the
exhibition with which we are concerned Ribalta and Pacheco, more famous
for the disciples they left than for the works they produced, were
represented, the first by Saint Peter (Plate VII.) and his portrait of
himself as _Saint Luke painting the Virgin_; and the second by the
_Portrait of a Knight of Santiago_.
A disciple of Ribalta, the figure of Ribera rises suddenly like that of
a great master, with all the distinction which the title implies. Going
to Italy while yet very young, he passed the greater part of his life
there, and was known as “Lo Spagnoletto” (the little Spaniard). The
Italians have tried to appropriate this artist to themselves, but his
truly Spanish character is so manifest that no one can entertain any
doubt upon the point. On arriving in Italy, he studied the works of
Raphael and Correggio, finding his true _métier_ at last in the energy
and the chiaroscuro of Caravaggio, who then opposed a realistic style to
the pseudo-classicism so noticeable at this time. Ribera, whose work
exhibits the attributes of Spanish technique, and who above all excelled
in drawing, a quality which distinguished him while still very young,
naturally found in Caravaggio, the master of the chiaroscuro, more
inspiration than in others of the classical painters and those Bolognese
eclectics who were afterwards his imitators and rivals. He went to
Naples, where he quickly achieved a fame which spread throughout Italy
and Spain, his native land, with which he had never lost the most
intimate relations as an artist, and here, in Naples, flattered by
fortune and with riches heaped upon him, he continued to produce his
admirable canvases, until the seduction of his daughter, the most
beautiful of all his models, by the second Don John of Austria, the
natural son of Philip IV, hastened his end.
The frequency with which he represented tatterdemalions, beggars,
martyrs, saints, scenes of violence, of torture, of asceticism, marks,
as everyone knows, the style of Ribera in its more superficial sense,
and there is scarcely a scene of horror nor a picture of exaggerated
tenebrosity belonging to that period and of Spanish tendency, which has
not been attributed to him by persons of slight experience, so typical
of him are these qualities, in which, moreover, he has no equal. Quite
as exceptional are his vigour, his skilful modelling--which has the
appearance of sculpture--and the anatomical construction of his figures,
the effects of lighting which he knows how to achieve, and the exact
appearance of reality, accentuated, but never repugnant, which he
accomplishes. Always in touch with reality, two styles are apparent in
his work: one, in which he appears to have revelled in violence of
contrast, seeking out scenes of grief, old age or death; and another,
less frequent it is true, in which he represents the more serene and
placid aspects of reality.
It is a pity that the London exhibition did not have a full and
brilliant display of the work of this master, as thereby his fame, which
to-day is, in our judgment, less than he merits, for reasons expressed
above, might have been securely founded. It is necessary to mention
among the Valencians of this period Espinosa and Orrente.
In Seville, as we have said, Pacheco was at the height of his fame, the
master of all, the fount of culture. But the technique of this school at
that time was under the influence of a man of a perplexing and stubborn
genius, little suited by character as a guide for youth, but still
animated by the Spanish spirit, subtle in technique and possessing a
notable force of expression. The young men followed his style, which was
in consonance with the progressive tendency of their years. We refer to
Herrera el Viejo (the elder) one of the most remarkable painters Spain
has ever produced. But it is a curious circumstance that those disciples
who worked in the atelier of Herrera, unable to get much guidance from
the master, soon betook themselves to the house of Pacheco, who,
intelligent and comprehensive, did not attempt to misdirect the
temperament and the inclinations of his young pupils, but set them to
the task of faithfully interpreting nature.
Zurbarán and Velázquez, the most notable by far of all their
contemporaries, protested against the conventionalisms of scholasticism.
They did not seek to embellish the rude form, which the living model
frequently presents to the eyes of the artist in search of a higher
ideal, but to copy it as they beheld it, as it was presented to them,
without distortion or falsity, was the purpose which they maintained
faithfully all their lives. Pacheco appreciated the talent and outlook
of these young men, he protected it as much as he could, and above all
cultivated those qualities which seemed to him the most striking.
Velázquez said to him: “I hold to the principle that nature ought to be
the chief master and swear neither to draw nor to paint anything which
is not before me”; and Pacheco, encouraged by the tendency towards a
frankly naturalistic style which his disciple showed, and observing the
qualities which he evinced, made Velázquez his son-in-law before he had
arrived at the age of nineteen.
Among such tendencies the art of Zurbarán and Velázquez was evolved. The
works of their youth were almost alike. They are sufficiently
distinguished later because, while the first hardly ever left the
neighbourhood of Seville, expanding but little, Velázquez, as is known,
developed a whole pictorial technique.
Zurbarán was born in 1598. He was therefore a year older than Velázquez.
By birth he did not belong to Seville, but to the province of
Estremadura. But this notwithstanding, he grew up among the artistic
influences of Andalusia, for the young painter arrived in Seville at the
age of sixteen years, so that he is regarded as one of the greatest
figures of the Sevillean School. For twenty-five years the artist was
famous for his figures of virgins and saints, realistic in character,
powerful, well drawn, vigorous and conceived without exaggeration, full
of life and individuality. We mention as a work great in conception the
_Apotheosis of Saint Thomas_, housed in the Museum of Seville. It is
characteristic of Zurbarán the refractory, who refused to be inspired
either by foreign or national influences. This lent him individuality
and rendered his productions a series of continuous links between which
but little difference can be remarked. He is famous, moreover, for his
religious paintings, his monastic visions. These figures of monks in
white sheets, which arouse admiration and appear to be carved, such is
the relief of their draped folds, are characteristic and full of
grandeur, feeling and austerity, and ought to be regarded in the light
of actual documents of the monastic life of the Spain of the seventeenth
century.
The distinctive feature of the technique of Zurbarán is the luminosity
rendered by means of strong contrasts of light and shade. High lights
without crudity and shadows without blackness are noticeable, as in the
works of Ribera. The grey tones are never heavy, and their quality,
harmonious in its blending, diminishes the hardness of the lines of
profile, suppressing all rigidity. Zurbarán is, moreover, a painter
easily understood, who rarely has recourse to a symbolism more or less
appropriate for the expression of thought, and his ideal aspirations
always present, in all that refers to form, a manifest passion for
reality.
This master was well represented at the Royal Academy. Perhaps there was
nothing of great distinction, but the nine works from his brush, all of
one kind, were in general very typical and individual, comprising
images, saints and figures realistic in character (Plate VIII.).
* * * * *
We have alluded to the manner of Velázquez’s appearance in Seville and
the influences under which he commenced his apprenticeship. A multitude
of studies seriously executed, some in black chalk, some in colour, were
his first essays. While still a youth he painted a number of those works
which still astonish by their reality, by their masterly drawing--a
quality with which he was naturally endowed--by their sculptural relief,
and by their sobriety. Two works may serve as typical of these, both
well-known in England, where they now are, _The Old Woman Frying Eggs_
in Sir Herbert Cook’s collection, and the _Water-Carrier of Seville_,
the property of the Duke of Wellington, which we quote as an example of
the style and resolution which the artist bestowed during these years
upon works of a popular character, and which, to judge from its subject
and models, was then a novelty in a school of painting which had
produced scarcely anything except portraits and paintings of a religious
kind. Other works of a naturalistic tendency, vulgarly called
_bodegones_, or “eating-house” sketches, and some of a religious
character, complete the production of those first years of Velázquez,
which was so limited in his later years, that he must be described as a
painter whose output was relatively small.
When the artist was twenty-four years of age, his father-in-law,
Pacheco, a man of influence, advised him to leave Seville, and himself
introduced him to the Court of Philip IV, in whose service Velázquez
remained for the rest of his life. He was immediately granted a position
and salary at the Court, and his first portraits of the Sovereign and
members of the Royal Family aroused surprise and admiration. These, and
his first subject compositions painted in Madrid, especially that known
as _Los Borrachos_ (“The Topers”), in their high excellence show the
culmination of all the qualities found in the works painted in Seville
during his first years of apprenticeship. Never has the Spanish
picaresque spirit, which forms such a brilliant page in the literature
of those times, been given a more genuine representation than is to be
observed in the canvas just mentioned. If Velázquez had died after
painting _Los Borrachos_, this work alone would have sufficed to have
given him supremacy and the title of leader of a school previously
indefinite and lacking a fixed and individual point of view.
A little later, at the command of his King, Velázquez went for the first
time to Italy. The influence which Italian art exercised upon him has
been the subject of discussion. It is not possible in an essay such as
this to try to elucidate this point, but it appears manifest that if
Italian art was naturally absorbed by his talent, it did not greatly
affect his native qualities; and to judge from his subsequent work, it
would seem that he showed a constant and single-minded solicitude to
achieve an interpretation always actively faithful to nature.
The picture _Las Lanzas_ (“The Lances”); the equestrian portraits of
kings, princes and others, in which these personages appear dressed in
hunting costume; those of the buffoons of the Court; the _Scenes of the
Chase_ in the mountains of El Pardo; and some others of a different
type, such as the _Christ on the Cross_, in the Prado Museum, make up
the tale of his output after his brief stay in Italy, and compose what
critics have called the second style of Velázquez, more ample and grand
than that of his youth, and, as time advances, enriching all the works
which come from his brush with those definite grey harmonies which are
occasionally almost silvery in tone, so characteristic and so
unmistakable.
The painter was for a second time in Italy in the period of his
maturity. He then painted the portrait of _Pope Innocent X_, and
executed a bust of _Juán de Pareja_, which was on view in the exhibition
at Burlington House. Returning soon afterwards to Spain, he there
addressed himself to the accomplishment of his greater works, which
truly reveal a superior art, somewhat enigmatical in its very
simplicity, a sublime style which at first sight does not seem to
require much comprehension and the view-point of which has given to the
Spanish School of all times, as well as to other schools, rich legacies,
excellent examples and notable fruits. There belongs to this epoch of
his artistry the portraits of kings and princes, the second series of
the court dwarfs, even more rich and astonishing than those of the
period of his middle years, some religious pictures, mythological works
and, lastly, the two great works _Las Hilanderas_ (“The Spinners”) and
_Las Meninas_ (“The Maids of Honour”) (Plates X. and XI.), supreme
monuments of a school, models of synthetic art, of astonishing
simplicity in their composition, of delicate harmony, eloquent of the
study of values, masterpieces, in short, of sublime painting, which, of
an apparent modesty, are, notwithstanding, magical works, spontaneous
creations, which shew neither exertion, weakness, nor weariness, and
which seem to us the result of an art serene and calm, contrary to the
influences of great idealistic conceptions, but which, essentially
objective, reproduce the natural with a truth which is unsurpassed.
In the exhibition at Burlington House Velázquez was not adequately
represented. But there were reasons for this. The undoubted pictures
from his brush which are privately owned in England, and to some of
which we have already alluded, are well-known and have figured in recent
exhibitions of Spanish art, so that it was not deemed necessary to
expose them again; while of those in Spain, the greater part is housed
in the Prado Museum (and could not of course be sent to England), and
those belonging to private persons are very scarce.
The examples from English collections were the magnificent portrait of
_Juán de Pareja, the Painter_, from Longford Castle; the bust of _A
Spanish Gentleman_, the property of the Duke of Wellington;
_Calabacillas_, _the Buffoon_ (Plate IX.) which has recently passed into
Sir Herbert Cook’s collection; _The Kitchen Maid_, in Sir Otto Beit’s
collection--all representative of a period of the artist--as well as the
portrait of _Don Baltasar Carlos, Infante of Spain_, which His Majesty
the King of England lent from Buckingham Palace.
Of this last special mention must be made. In our judgment it is an
undoubted Velázquez and, moreover, a most beautiful example. Every part
of the armour, of the legs, of the body, and, above all, the adjustment
of the figure and the design are typical of Velázquez. How has it come
to be regarded in England as a work of Mazo, where the master is so
justly esteemed and where, owing, doubtless to enthusiasm for Velázquez,
nearly all the pictures of Mazo are attributed to Velázquez? Or is it
that some have arrived at false conclusions concerning Mazo and
Velázquez, and when they are confronted by an original and undoubted
Velázquez, are dubious of it because it does not appear sufficiently
typical of Mazo? It has not, to the best of our belief, elsewhere been
observed that the head of this portrait is somewhat faint and flat.
From Spain there were sent _The Hand of an Ecclesiastic_, lent by His
Majesty the King of Spain, a fragment, without doubt, from a portrait of
which the remainder was lost in the burning of the Alcazar of Madrid.
The special interest of the said fragment is that the hand holds a paper
on which is the signature of Velázquez, assuredly, one of the three
authentic signatures of this artist which remain to us, the others being
found on the portrait of _Philip IV_, in the National Gallery, London,
and that of _Pope Innocent X_, in the Doria Gallery at Rome. Concerning
the portrait of _Pulido Pareja_ in the National Gallery, London, we have
already written at some length on another occasion, with the intention
of proving that this portrait is by Mazo, and that the signature is
consequently apocryphal. The _Portrait of the Artist_, from the Fine Art
Museum, Valencia, is a beautiful example, if somewhat damaged and
blackened, and the other three works shown have been more frequently
exhibited and studied than those which are of undoubted authenticity.
Among others of outstanding interest is the _Head of a Cleric_, the
property of the Count of Fuenclara, which, although its attribution is
not unquestioned, is remembered above all as a beautiful piece of work.
* * * * *
We must now commence the rather complex study of those paintings which
compose the Madrid School. We say complex, because, composed as it was
of painters who came from one or the other part of the Peninsula, it
does not possess a precise and regional character, but is the resultant
of the work of many artists whose names we must not forget, as, for
example, Carducho, Caxes and Nardi, of Italian origin, who, or perhaps
their fathers, were brought to Spain as decorative painters. It seems
natural that they should have had imitators or disciples, as it was
precisely in the country of their adoption that artists of this genre
were awanting. But, on the contrary, they were absorbed by the
environment, and produced and achieved a sober and realistic style,
forgetful of the circumstances of their apprenticeship, and, we may say,
hispanicised.
Velázquez was the chief representative of the Madrid school, its
creator, and, more, its prototype, marking the apogee of Spanish
painting. His aim was always to simplify, a purpose which is clearly
obvious from the methods he employed from his youth to his last work,
constantly simplifying his technique and, consequently, his palette. To
the study of his palette alone we have dedicated a work of a purely
technical character (of which THE STUDIO of November 1920 printed an
extract) which space does not permit us to reproduce here, but which we
take occasion to refer to since the simplification of the palette of
this artist, the creator of a school, must be regarded as of
exceptional importance, as characteristic of almost all later Spanish
artistic achievement, endowing it with great individuality and
distinguishing it from all other schools. This circumstance is worthy of
recognition by all who wish to arrive at the true significance of
Spanish painting, so far as its outward manifestations are concerned.
Before dealing with the continuators of Velázquez, we must briefly refer
to painting in Andalusia, where Murillo appears as a great force in
Seville, years after Velázquez had been so in Madrid. Murillo, at first
a disciple of his kinsman Castillo, was soon afterwards a follower of
Pedro Moya. The painter passed during his youth through a whole gamut of
influences, that of Van Dyck especially, alternating at times with that
of Ribera. At twenty-four he was in Madrid, where Velázquez worked and
taught, though only for a short time. When he returned to Seville he did
not forget the lessons of Velázquez, and from this period date those
popular figures, full of character, which began to bring him fame.
Later, Murillo altered his methods, and for the rest of his life
employed a style suave and soft as the Andalusian accent, graceful and
suggestive. His religious works, his _Virgins_, and, above all, his
_Conceptions_ were soon famous, and, an incessant worker, he left a
multitude of paintings which bear a personal and unmistakable stamp, and
reveal an adequate technique, ample in treatment, in a tonality of
varying greys, warm and glowing and without exaggeration.
But in truth the art of Murillo is of less interest than formerly, owing
to present-day preferences, which seek spirituality in art, a force and
even a restlessness which we do not find in the work of this artist. But
his fame in his own day was very great, and for a long time he was
considered as the foremost of Spanish painters. What gave him such a
great reputation? The illustrious Spanish critic, Señor Cossío, has
asked the same question regarding the causes underlying a style so
direct and simple. Murillo’s subject-matter, says Señor Cossío, in the
background as in the thing portrayed, represents always the soft and
agreeable side of life. In the sphere of spontaneous creation, in that
which does not require profundity, nor reflection, Murillo always exerts
an irresistible attraction. His _Conceptions_ are beautiful but
superficial. There is in them no more skilful groundwork, dramatic
impulse, nor exaltation than appears at first sight. To comprehend and
enjoy them it is not necessary to think, their contemplation leaves the
beholder tranquil, they do not possess the power to distract, they have
no warmth, nor that distinction which makes a work unique, and as they
hold just that degree of cultured mediocrity which in thought and
feeling is the patrimony of the majority of people, they are able to
please accordingly. If there be added to this a pious and poetic
sentiment and the celestial and suave expression of his figures, it is
easy to understand the great, indisputable and just popularity which
Murillo has enjoyed. Velázquez thought profoundly, but with ideality;
Murillo has not idealism, nor is he profound. Both are realists, and if
one represents the masculine feeling in Spanish painting, the other
shows at its highest the feminine tendency.
At the Royal Academy seven pictures of Murillo, some of real importance,
were shown. Amongst these religious subjects predominated, _San Leandro_
and _San Buenaventura_, from the Museum of Seville, and _The Triumph of
the Holy Eucharist_, lent by Lord Faringdon. Among the portraits were
that of the artist, the property of Earl Spencer; _Gabriel Esteban
Murillo_, sent by the Duke of Alba and Berwick; and _Don Diego Félix de
Esquivel y Aldama_, from a private collection in Madrid.
In alluding to the Sevillean school, we must mention a contemporary of
Murillo, though somewhat his junior, of singular talent. His name is
little known outside of Spain, and this is doubtless the reason why so
few of his pictures have left the country. We believe it a mistake to
allude to him, as is sometimes done, as one of those Spanish painters
whose work is no longer of interest, such is his expression, his
distinctive note, his creative boldness and individuality. We refer to
Valdes Leal. His harsh outlook, his frequent inaccuracies, his thought,
profound and almost always obscure, and above all, his subjects, at
times macabre and bizarre, at times graceful, provide reasons for his
unpopularity, no less than the still scanty knowledge we possess
regarding this singular man, the circumstances of whose work and life
are presented to us almost in a legendary manner, as in the case of his
friend and patron, Don Juán de Mañara, who has been incarnated in the
popular imagination as the Don Juán of tradition.
In Granada, Alonso Cano, as great a sculptor as painter, maintained,
with other artists of lesser note and standing, a flourishing school
which had links with that of Seville.
* * * * *
We turn again to Madrid, to the Court where Velázquez, as we have
indicated, stamped such character on painting and informed it with such
excellence that artists flocked from all parts of the Peninsula to the
capital. This resulted in the flourishing period of art--ending with the
seventeenth century--fruitful and various, which is associated with the
School of Madrid. It is not precisely the school of Velázquez, although
equivocally so called. Velázquez had disciples who followed him,
imitating and copying him, as his servant Pareja, the mulatto, did. But
this notwithstanding, other painters of talent worked during these
years in the capital, helping to form the school, even if they did not
follow him in any decided manner. Nevertheless, he is its greatest
figure, for he it was who gained the title of a school for the work of
his contemporaries, and for the generation which followed him. The
impulse which he gave by his technique and the composition of his
palette, simple and sober, are characteristic of all this period. His
son-in-law, Mazo, followed him blindly, and, working in his studio, was
constantly impressed by the productions of his master, making use of the
same methods--the same canvas, colours, brushes, and, giving rein to an
extraordinarily imitative talent, he tried to make, and occasionally
produced, actual facsimiles of his master’s works. The study of this
curious problem of painting, of the distinctive note, the inclination of
the time, as shown in the art of father-in-law and son-in-law, has been
the subject of several works from our pen. We have not insisted on the
point in these, nor have we space to do so in this brief synthesis; but
we flatter ourselves that several paintings, especially those which
belong to museums, have come to be more correctly attributed to Mazo
rather than to Velázquez, and that those who are interested in these
problems have come to distinguish the external aspect of the work of the
one from that of the other, substantial and inimitable. We must remark,
however, that Mazo had, besides the mere qualities of an imitator, a
talent of his own of singular excellence, that of a landscape painter,
which represented a relative novelty in the art of Spain at that period.
After Velázquez the most important painter of the School of Madrid is,
beyond dispute, Carreño. Though his religious canvases are numerous,
Carreño was, above all, a portrait painter. The relative influence of
the work of Van Dyck, which extended as far as Seville, also reached
Madrid, and Carreño came under it at times and discreetly made use of
it. We say discreetly, for he had lost his national qualities. He
borrowed from Velázquez the basic colours of his palette, but sought to
enrich them with certain warm, golden tones, and he was enamoured of
russets and, above all, of carmines, generally those which approximate
to the colouring of the Flemings, but which appear cloying beside the
works of Van Dyck. The portraits by Carreño were represented at the
exhibition by that of _A Young Lady_ (Plate XXII), belonging to the Duke
of Medinaceli, which might almost be described as a black-and-white from
its colouring and the evident purpose of the artist to preserve this
tonality throughout the work; that of _The Queen of Spain, Doña Mariana
de Austria_, the property of Don Ramón de la Sota, a most beautiful
example, from which, without doubt, have been taken the many repetitions
which are known of it besides other variants; and that of _The
Marchioness of Santa Cruz_, which is of great importance and very
characteristic. Of religious pictures it is necessary to mention _The
Apparition of the Virgin to Saint Bernard_, sent from Bilbao by Don
Antonio Plasencia.
The two brothers Rizi, Juan and Francisco, were of Italian origin; both
were decorative painters and worked in the style of Carducho and Caxes.
Juan, the elder, was a monk, and was one of the prototypes of the School
of Madrid, following Velázquez in his work, soberly and simply.
Francisco seems at times to display the qualities of his Italian origin,
and though sufficiently Spanish, gave to his creations a certain quality
which may have influenced the Spanish decorative painters of the time.
It is a curious problem of influence. In any case this artist, who
achieved fame in his time, is an interesting study to-day, and it would
seem that the critic must scrutinize the beginnings of the question
before he tries to explain its results. Pereda, Collantes and Leonardo
are also notable, if lacking the character of their school, which
clearly shows them to be among the disciples of Carreño, among whom,
perhaps, the most notable were Cerezo and Cabezalero, who unfortunately
died young. Cerezo seems to be the most striking figure of those years,
and his brilliant colour and fine style initiated a tendency which made
for the enrichment of the Spanish palette, the sobriety of which we
admire in the masters, but which degenerates into a certain poverty at
times in the hands of their disciples. With Cerezo we should mention
Antolínez, who also died before he reached artistic maturity.
We now reach that era of painting which flourished at the Court of Spain
during the remainder of the seventeenth century. A long list of names of
artists could be made, all estimable and some remarkable, who exhibited
the proverbial vigour and picturesque temperament of the race, which,
skilfully directed, and having received a noble and traditional
tendency, commenced its onward progress without faltering. We mention,
however, only Claudio Coello, who seems to close this period. A disciple
of Rizi, whose decorative tendency he followed, he was more an artist in
a general sense than a portrait painter, and above all he produced many
religious subjects. By his work _The Sacred Form_, which is kept in the
Escurial, he seems to be sealed to the School of Madrid. This picture is
obviously a result of the atmosphere and the taste of the period in its
fidelity to character and its happy solution of problems of perspective
and effects of light.
* * * * *
For Spain the eighteenth century was a period of misfortune. The reasons
for this are simple and evident. Grace and good taste--in the best sense
of the term--lightness, came to be the characteristics of this century,
and these qualities were displayed in a perfect manner in French art.
And it was precisely these attributes which Spanish artists most
lacked, and still lack. They are robust, strong and sincere, but without
gracefulness, facility of expression or volatility. _A propos_ of this,
it must be recalled that Spanish artistic expression appears to have
been more or less influenced in its development by foreign tendencies
which were allowed to work freely and with absolute spontaneity. The
eighteenth century was a period in which the most powerful external
influences, especially the French, the least adaptable to the Spanish
temperament, had full play. These external influences were wholly
ordained by the rule of the House of Bourbon, and incarnated in the
first of its monarchs, Philip V, nephew of Louis XIV, who, doubtless
meaning well, seemed to think it possible to transplant Versailles, with
its marvellous spirit and exquisite culture, to the Castilian cities,
which were still dominated by the sobriety and asceticism of the mystics
of past centuries.
As regards painting, these influences commenced with the arrival at the
Court of Lucas Jordán, who represented the influence of the great
Italian decorative artists. Afterwards came Tiépolo, who left many
marvellous works, quite inimitable by Spanish artists. The Bourbons
introduced Van Loo, Ranc, Houasse and other French representatives of
the art of the time; and lastly came Mengs, bringing with him a spirit
wholly distinct from that of the French, a style erudite and academic
which was not sufficiently powerful to create an artistic output of any
importance in Spain, but which possessed much destructive power,
although that was limited as regards time to about a century, during
which period the national production was weak, despite the number of
artists, of whom those most worthy to be mentioned are Maella, the
Bayeus and Paret.
Such was the condition of Spanish painting when, without precedent,
reason or motive, appeared in the province of Aragon, a region which
years afterwards came to typify the resistance to foreign invasion, a
figure of great significance in Spanish art, and worthy of comparison
with the greatest masters of the preceding centuries--Francisco de Goya.
* * * * *
The long life of Goya coincides with an epoch which divides two ages.
The critic is somewhat at a loss how to place his work and personality,
to conclude whether he is the last of the old masters or the first of
the moderns. His greatness is so obvious, his performance so vast and
its gradual evolution so manifest, that we may be justified in holding
that the first portion of his effort belongs to the old order of things,
while the second must be associated with the origins of modern painting.
In his advance, in the manner and development of it, it is
noticeable--as we have already said in certain of our works which deal
with Goya--that he substituted for the picturesque, agreeable and
suggestive note of his younger days, another more intense and more
embracive. It would seem that the French invasion of the Peninsula, the
horrors of which he experienced and depicted, influenced him profoundly
in the alteration of his style. There is a Goya of the eighteenth
century and a Goya of the nineteenth. But this is not entirely due to
variation in technique, to mere artistic development, it is more justly
to be traced to a change in creative outlook, in character, in
view-point, which underwent a rude and violent transformation. Compare
the subjects of his tapestries or of his festive canvases, joyful and
gallant, facile in conception and at times almost trivial, with the
tragic and macabre scenes of his old age, and with the drawings of this
period and the compositions known as “The Disasters of War.”
His spirit was fortified and nourished by the warmth of his imagination,
and assisted by an adequate technique, marvellously suited to the
expression of his ideas, he produced the colossal art of his later
years. If his performance is studied with reference to the vicissitudes
and the adventures of which it is eloquent, the influence upon his works
of the times in which they were created is obvious. The changes in his
life, the transference from those gay and tranquil years to others full
of the horrors of blood and fire, of shame and banishment, tended,
without doubt, to discipline his spirit and excite his intelligence. His
natural bias to the fantastic and his tendency to adapt the world to his
visions seized upon the propitious occasion in a time of invasion and
war to exalt itself, or, as he himself expressed it, “the dream of
reason produces prodigies.”
An artist and creator more as regards expression than form, especially
in the second phase of his work, unequal in achievement and at times
inaccurate, he sacrificed much to divest himself of these faults. He
deliberately set himself to discipline his ideas and develop that degree
of boldness with which he longed to infuse them. But he was not quite
able to subject himself to reality, and, as he was forgetful and
indolent, that which naturally dominated him began to show itself in
quite other productions of consummate mastery. This art, imaginative in
expression and idea, is more striking as regards its individual and
original qualities, than for any degree of discipline which it shows.
To follow Goya throughout the vicissitudes of his long life is not a
matter of difficulty. The man to whom modern Spanish art owes its being
was born in the little village of Fuendetodos and lived whilst a child
at Saragossa. He came to Madrid at an early age, and before his
thirtieth year went to Rome with the object of perfecting himself in his
art. But he failed to obtain much direction at the academies in Parma,
and having but little enthusiasm for the Italian masters of that time,
returned to Spain, settling at Madrid. Until this time the artist had
not evinced any exceptional gifts. Goya was not precocious. The first
works to assist his reputation were a series of cartoons for tapestries
to be woven at the Royal Factory. They were destined for the walls of
the royal palaces of Aranjuez, the Escurial and the Prado, which Carlos
IV desired to renovate according to the fashion of the time. These
works, which brought fame to Goya, showed two distinctive qualities. One
of them evinces the originality of his subjects, in which appear
gallants, blacksmiths, beggars, labourers, popular types in short, who
for the first time appeared in the decoration of Spanish palaces and
castles, which, until then, had known only religious paintings, military
scenes, the portraits of the Royal Family and stately hidalgos. Goya, in
this sense, democratized art. The other note to be observed in his work
is a certain distinction of craftsmanship, the alertness which it
reveals, which is, perhaps, due to the lightness of his colouring. On
canvases prepared with tones of a light red hue, which he retained as
the basis of his picture, he sketched his figures and backgrounds with
light brushes and velatures, retaining, where possible, the tone of the
ground. This light touch, rendered necessary by the extensive character
of the design and the rapidity with which it had to be executed, gave to
the artist a freedom and quickness in all he drew, and from it his later
works, much more important than these early essays though they were,
profited not a little.
Already during these earlier years he had commenced to paint portraits
which did much to enhance his reputation, and shortly afterwards he
entered the royal service as first painter to the Court, where he
addressed himself to the execution of that vast collection of works of
all kinds which arouse such interest to-day. The list is interminable
and embraces the portraits of Carlos IV and of the Queen Maria Louisa,
those of the members of the Royal Family, of all the aristocracy, of the
Albas, Osunas, Benaventes, Montellanos, Pignatellis, Fernán-Núñezs, the
greatest wits and intellectuals of the day, especially those of
Jovellanos, Moratin, and Meléndez Valdés, three men who profoundly
influenced the thought of Goya in a progressive and almost revolutionary
manner, in spite of his connection with the Court and the aristocracy.
He also painted many portraits of popular persons, both men and women,
among whom may be mentioned La Tirana, the bookseller of the Calle de
Carretas, and that most mysterious and adventurous of _femmes galantes_
of whom, now clothed, now nude, the artist has bequeathed to us those
souvenirs which hang on the walls of the Prado Museum. In these the
artist has for all time fixed and immortalized the finest physical type
of Spanish womanhood, in which an occasional lack of perfect proportion
is compensated for by elegance, grace, and unexaggerated curve and
figure, without doubt one of the most exquisite feminine types which has
been produced by any race. Besides these, the artist produced many
lesser canvases containing tiny figures full of wonderful grace and
gallantry, and having rural backgrounds, frequently of the banks of the
Manzanares, and others of larger proportions and scope, among the most
excellent of which is that of the family of Carlos IV, treasured in the
Prado Museum as one of its most precious jewels. Along with _The Burial
of the Count of Orgaz_ (Plate V.) and _Las Meninas_ (Plate X.), this
picture may be regarded as the most complete and astonishing which
Spanish art has given us. It is not a “picture” in the ordinary sense of
the word, but an absolute solution of the problem of how colour
harmonies are to be attained, and a most striking essay in
impressionism, in which an infinity of bold and varied shades and
colours blend in a magnificent symphony.
Goya, triumphant and rejoicing in a life ample and satisfying, received
on all sides the flatteries of the great, and, caressed by reigning
beauties, lived in the tranquil pursuit of his art, which, though
intense, was yet graceful and gallant, and, as we have said, still
adhered to the manner of the eighteenth century, when a profound shock
agitated the national life--the war with Napoleon and the French
invasion. The first painter to the Court of Carlos IV, a fugitive, deaf,
and already old, life, as he then experienced it, might have seemed to
him a happy dream with a terrible awakening. His possessions, his
pictures, and his models were dispersed and maltreated; the Court seemed
to have finished its career, for his royal master was banished by force,
many of the nobility were condemned to death, and Countesses, Duchesses
and Maids of Honour vanished like the easy and enjoyable existence he
had known. Above all, Saragossa, that heroic city, beleaguered on every
side, was closed to him; a depleted army defended the strategical points
of the Peninsula, and the people--the people whom Goya loved and who had
so often served him as models for his damsels, his bull-fighters, his
wenches, his little children--were wandering over the length and breadth
of Spain, only to be shot as guerillas and stone-throwers by the
soldiers of Napoleon. It was at this moment that the true development of
the artist began. The painter, like his race, was not to be conquered.
The old Goya remained, strong in the creation of a lofty art. The last
twenty years of his life were full indeed, and represented its most
vigorous phase, the most energetic in the whole course of his
achievement. Scenes of war and disaster occupied almost the whole of
this important period, full of a profound pessimism, which still does
not lack a certain graceful style, and displays unceasingly some of the
saddest thoughts which man has ever known. These works of Goya are not
of any party, are not political nor sectarian. They are simply human.
For his greatness is all-embracive and his might enduring. Typical of
his work in this last respect are _The Fusiliers_, of 1808, and his
lesser efforts, those scenes of brigandage, madness, plague and famine
which occur so frequently in his paintings during the years which
followed the war.
We do not mean to make any hard and fast assertion that Goya would not
have developed in intensity of feeling if he had not personally
experienced and suffered the horrors of the invasion, but merely to
indicate that it was this which brought about the revulsion within him
and powerfully exalted him. His last years in Madrid, and afterwards in
Bordeaux, where he died, were always characterized by the note of
pessimism, and at times, of horror, as is shown in the paintings which
once decorated his house and are now preserved in the Prado Museum. Not
a few portraits of these years also show that the artist gained in
intensity and in individual style. It is precisely these works, so
advanced for their time and so progressive, that provided inspiration to
painters like Manet, who achieved such progress in the nineteenth
century, and who were enamoured of the visions of Goya, of his technique
and his methods, naturalistic, perhaps, but always replete with
observation and individual expression.
We must not forget to mention that Goya produced a decorative
masterpiece of extraordinary distinction and supreme originality--the
mural painting of the Chapel of St. Antonio of Florida, in Madrid. Nor
is it less fitting to record his fecundity in the art of etching, in
which, as in his painting, it is easy to observe the development of
their author from a style gallant and spirited to an interpretation of
deep intensity, such as is to be witnessed in the collection of “The
Caprices” and “The Follies,” if these are compared with the so-called
“Proverbs” and especially with “The Disasters of War.”
The pictures representing Goya at Burlington House were composed of some
twenty works. Among those which belonged to his first period were the
portraits of the Marchioness of Lazan, the Duchess of Alba, lent by the
Duke of Alba, “La Tirana,” from the Academy of St. Fernando, the
Countess of Haro, belonging to the Duchess of San Carlos, four of the
smaller paintings of rural scenes, the property of the Duke of
Montellano, and _An Amorous Parley_ (“Coloquio Galante”), the property
of the Marquis de la Romana, the prototype of the Spanish feeling for
gallantry in the eighteenth century. As representative of the second
phase, of that which holds a note intense and pessimistic, may be taken
_A Pest House_, lent by the Marquis de la Romana, and those truly
dramatic scenes, the property of the Marquis of Villagonzalo.
Of portraits of the artist by himself two were exhibited, one small in
size painted in his youth (Plate XXVI.), in which the full figure is
shown, and the other a head, done in 1815, which gives us a good idea of
the expression and temperament of this extraordinary man.
The influence of the art of Goya was not immediate. A contemporary of
his is to be remembered in Esteve, who assisted him and copied from him.
Later, an artist of considerable talent, Leonardo Alenza, who died very
young and had no time to develop his art, was happily inspired by him.
With regard to Lucas, a well-known painter whose production was very
large, and who flourished many years later, and is now known to have
followed Goya, he can scarcely be considered as one of his continuators,
but rather as an imitator--by no means the same thing. For he imitated
Goya, as, on other occasions, he imitated Velázquez and other artists.
Lucas is much more praiseworthy when he follows his own instincts and
does original work. His picture _The Auto de Fé_, the property of M.
Labat, which was shown at the London exhibition in the room dedicated to
artists of the nineteenth century, is one of the best that we know of
from his brush.
* * * * *
If the eighteenth century was for Spanish painting an epoch of external
influences, the nineteenth century, especially its second half, must be
characterized as one which sought for foreign direction. During this
period the greater number of painters of talent sought for inspiration
from foreign masters. This was a grave mistake, not because in Spain
there were artists of much ability or even good instructors, but because
this exodus of Spanish painters was a sign that they had lost faith and
confidence in themselves and were strangers to that native force which
in the end triumphs in painting as in everything else. First Paris, then
Rome, the two most important centres of the art of this period, were
undoubtedly centres of a lamentable distortion of Spanish art.
The organizing committee did not wish the London exhibition to be
lacking in examples of this period of prolific production, to which they
dedicated a room in which were shown examples of the painters of the
nineteenth century. We mention some of the many artists of talent of the
Spain of those days, and indicate their individual characteristics; but
we are unable to allude to their general outlook and the
characterization of their schools, which we do not think existed among
them to any great extent.
The most famous painter who succeeded Goya was Vincente López, better
known for his portraits than for his other canvases, a skilful artist
with a perfect knowledge of technique, conscientious, fecund, minute in
detail, who has left us the reflection of a whole generation.
Classicism arrived in Spain with all the lustre of the triumphs of Louis
David, under whose direction José de Madrazo placed himself, the first
of those artists of this type to maintain a position of dignity
throughout three artistic generations. He held an important place among
contemporary painters at a difficult time during which, in consequence
of the political disorder which reigned, the commissions usually given
by the churches and religious communities ceased, private persons
acquired few paintings, and the academies decreased in the number of
their students. It was a time in which art offered but little
wherewithal to its votaries.
But this period of paralysis was of short duration. The pictorial
temperament, which inalienably belongs to Spain, and the appearance of
romanticism, with a tendency conformable to the spirit of Spain, and
which had for a long time given a brilliant impulse to her men of
letters, revived painting, which forgot its period of exhaustion. The
frigid classicism, ill-suited to the national genius, now passed away.
José de Madrazo was succeeded in prestige and surpassed in ability by
his son Federico de Madrazo. By his portraits he has bequeathed to us
faithful renderings of all the personages of his day, which compete with
those of the greater foreign portrait painters among his contemporaries.
Studying at first under classical influences, but regarded as romantics
in their later development, were remarkable portrait painters like
Esquivel and Gutiérrez de la Vega, and a landscape painter of especial
interest, Pérez Villamil, who may in a manner be compared to the great
English landscape painter Turner, though he had no opportunities for
coming in contact with him or any knowledge of his work. Both men, each
in his own environment, breathed the same atmosphere; and, although
reared in lands remote from one another, thought in a like manner
because they both reflected the period in which they lived. Becquer and
others adequately maintained the descriptive note which now entered into
the making of popular subjects.
Such was the condition of painting in Spain when there appeared the
fruitful and extraordinarily popular _genre_ of historical painting. In
its origin it was not Spanish but was introduced from other countries,
especially from France; but its Spanish affinities are manifest in its
examples, most of which are canvases of great size, imposing, dramatic,
and, in general, effective.
* * * * *
In this period culture, which in Spain had formerly been the preserve of
a limited class, now spread itself more widely, and in the sphere of art
was greatly fostered by exhibitions of painting, open to all and sundry,
without distinction of social status. Pictures and sculpture, which in
other times had been dedicated solely to art and to religious piety, the
possessions of kings and grandees, now came into public view, were
alluded to in publications of all kinds, and the people, enthusiastic
and critical, were brought face to face with their native art. Many
artists, perceiving this, hoped to gain popular applause, and
consequently worked upon their subjects as seemed most agreeable to the
masses. The historical picture in such circumstances seemed to offer the
greatest possibilities for achieving a popular reputation.
Gisbert painted the popular heroes of the past and was regarded as the
representative of those revolutionary tendencies in art which were to
triumph several years later. Alisal, Mercade, Palmaroli, Luis Alvarez,
careful and excellent artists, painted both historical and _genre_
pictures. From this group arose a most remarkable figure who died whilst
still very young, but who has left us a most striking example of his
workmanship. This was Eduardo Rosales, the painter of _The Death of
Isabel the Catholic_. Rosales represented the Spanish tradition in
painting. Averse to foreign influences, he studied and found in the
great masters the sources of his art, and his works, both in Spain and
beyond it, excited the greatest interest in his time. The picture above
mentioned, sober and simple in style, though it must be classed as
_genre_ painting, has still many admirable and enduring qualities. The
pity is that this group of artists did not follow him; for, flattered by
the public acclamation, they entered upon the second period of
historical painting, less effective than the first and always
conventional, which lasted many years, indeed almost to the present
time. For an atmosphere inimical to the traditions of Spanish painting
arose, in which this type of historical composition flourished at a time
when it had been condemned and forgotten in other countries, where it
was forced to give place to those tendencies in which modern painting
had its origin.
Rigurosamente, a contemporary of Rosales, was another exceptional artist
of unusual gifts, likewise Mariano Fortuny, who unfortunately died in
his youth. Fortuny, though he may appear quite otherwise to-day, was in
his own time considered a progressive innovator. When he visited Madrid
for the first time, drawn thither by youthful enthusiasm, he did so with
no other idea than that of copying from Velázquez. But seeing in the
Prado Museum the works of Goya, which were totally new to him, he
received a revelation. He copied from Goya, and later, going to Africa,
he painted many studies and pictures replete with light. Light as a
pictorial factor, as an element in a picture, the study of light, the
reflection of it in his own works--that is the progressive element which
we find in Fortuny. The rapid success of his first works, their triumph
in Paris and Rome, was due to an agreeable style, gracious in touch,
suggestive, which appealed to collectors and dealers. At the same time
we do not believe this to have been altogether his ideal, since a few
years before his death, which took place in his thirty-seventh year, we
see him betaking himself to the shores of Italy, where he made new
studies of light and air. Was it reserved to Fortuny to be one of those
of whom it will be said that he assisted the development of the study
of atmosphere and light? We firmly believe this to be so, but the work
of the critic has nothing to do with prophecy, and we must deal only
with that which Fortuny has left us, which is indeed sufficient. It must
not be forgotten in judging his work to-day that its defects, or what
seem to be its defects, were those of his time and were not personal,
and that what is personal to him was his good taste, his mastery, and a
series of innovations and bold essays in colour obvious to those who
study his works. Fortuny was not a Spanish painter in the sense that he
did not preserve the traditions of our School. He certainly took the
elements of his palette from Goya, but his traits of manner show no sign
of the typical qualities of Spanish painting.
It is fitting to allude here to artists of different types and talents
in some of the cities of Spain, and others living abroad, who laboured
during the last years of the nineteenth century--the Madrazos, Raimundo
and Ricardo, sons of Don Federico de Madrazo, who studied under the
direction of Fortuny; Plasencia, Domínguez and Ferrán, who distinguished
themselves in work of a decorative character in the Church of Saint
Francisca the Great in Madrid; Pradilla and Villegas, who have obtained
the greatest triumphs during a long career; the brothers Mélida, Enrique
and Arturo, the first working in Paris for many years, and the second a
famous decorative artist; Egusquiza, painter and engraver; Moreno
Carbonero, who, more a historical and portrait painter, found a
popularity for his pictures inspired by episodes in literature,
especially those of Quixote, in which he has coincided with Jiménez
Aranda. We may also mention a group of artists, all of Valencia, a city
which in times past, as in the present, enjoyed notable artistic
prosperity: Sala, Muñoz Degrain, Pinazo Camarlench, José Benlliure and
many others. Nearly all of them were represented at the Exhibition at
Burlington House in the Salon set apart for the painters of this epoch.
* * * * *
In the second half of the nineteenth century the study of nature in the
form of landscape arose as a creed, the artist coming face to face with
the scene which he desired to transfer to his canvas. It has been said
“what the landscape is, so is he who praises it.” Until then the
landscape had been nothing but a background for a composition or figure,
and those who called themselves landscape painters, when they undertook
to paint a scene used it as a peg on which to hang poetical ideas,
embellishing it, but never treating it as a true rendering of nature.
Now the artist came to the country, felt the influence of nature, and
faithfully copied it. The object of his work was to be as natural as
possible, without embellishing or poetizing his subject, but to portray
it, as one might say. This was a new idea to the painters of the time.
Pérez Villamil, a follower of romanticism in painting, also practised
landscape art in Spain until it underwent the change mentioned above
through the arrival of a Belgian, Charles de Haes, who succeeded Pérez
Villamil as professor of landscape at the School of Painting. Haes broke
with tradition. He would have no conventionalisms, no studied
compositions, nor preconceptions. He took his pupils to the country and
there told them to copy Nature herself, leaving them without any further
inspiration than that with which God had endowed them. To-day the
studies of this master and of his disciples, generally executed in
strong contrasts of light, seeking, doubtless, the effectiveness thus
produced, appear to us, although they have a sense of luminosity, poor
in colour, obscure and hard. But what progress is represented in them in
comparison with all former art! And it is clear that they express the
tendency which, modern in that time, everywhere governed the advance of
art.
Shortly afterwards a Spanish landscape painter, not a disciple of Haes,
Martín Rico, a companion of Fortuny, but who, having lived longer than
he and reached a more mature age, advanced a further step in the art of
landscape painting. If the chief aim of this painter had not been the
rapid translation of his gifts into money, and had he not striven to
please the public, he might have achieved lasting fame.
Casimiro Saiz, Muñoz Degrain--whom we have mentioned already as a
painter of the figure--Urgell, Gomar and others devoted themselves to
landscape; but the most salient examples of Spanish landscape painting
are to be found in the work of three artists who developed with the
rapid evolution of their time--Beruete, Regoyos and Rusiñol. Of these
three sincere and individual painters, Beruete, in his youth a disciple
of Haes, and later of Rico, evinced a very decided modern tendency. He
devoted the years of his maturity to the making of a large number of
pictures of Spanish cities, especially of Castile, paintings truthful
and sincere in character, and revealing a very personal outlook. Regoyos
was influenced by impressionism, to which he was strongly attracted, and
in the North of Spain he inspired many by his numerous works. Rusiñol
is, perhaps, more a poet than a painter. He still lives and works. He
used to find in the gloomy and deserted gardens of Spain subjects for
his pictures. One of the most remarkable figures in Catalonia to-day,
both as a litterateur and painter, he has also sought inspiration in the
scenes and countryside of this, his native province.
* * * * *
Spanish painting was completely modernized during the last years of the
nineteenth century. Three great international events took place during
that period--the three exhibitions in Paris of the years 1878, 1889 and
1900. At these Spanish painting was fully represented. At the first was
shown a varied collection of the works of Fortuny--one of the most
famous artists of his time--who had died shortly before. In the second
we experienced a rebuff, for a number of historical paintings of
enormous proportions, full of the inspiration of the past, were not
admitted, nor, indeed, were some of these worthy to hang in the
exhibition. But in the years between 1889 and 1900 the development of
Spanish painting was most marked, and in the last of the exhibitions
alluded to the Spanish salons revealed a high level of excellence and a
significant modernity. Moreover, there emerged the personality of a
young painter, hitherto unknown, who by unanimous consent was regarded
as well-nigh qualifying for the highest honours. This was a man whose
name shortly afterwards became famous throughout the world--Joaquín
Sorolla, one of those personalities who from time to time arise in Spain
quite unexpectedly.
Sorolla, who was of humble origin, was born in Valencia, and in his
youth was naturally influenced by the paintings of the old masters in
his native city. He went to Madrid, later to Italy, and finally to
Paris, where his work of a wholly realistic character was admired, for
actuality was to this painter as the breath of life. A French advocate
of naturalism has said “one rule alone guides the art of painting, the
law of values, the manner in which the light plays upon an object, in
which the light distributes colour over it; the light, and only the
light is that which fixes the position of each object; it is the life of
every scene reproduced in painting.” This statement Sorolla seems to
have taken greatly to heart, even while he was still under the influence
of old traditions and standards of thought.
Possessing a temperament of much forcefulness, and of great productive
exuberance, enthusiastic about the scenery of the Mediterranean, and
especially enamoured of the richness of colour of his native soil, the
ruddy earth planted with orange-trees, the blue sea and the dazzling
sky, Sorolla, oblivious of what he had done before, felt a powerful
impulse to paint that which was rich in colour, so greatly was he moved
by the eastern spirit. The coasts of Valencia, the lives of the
fishermen, those children of the sea, the bullocks drawing the boats,
the scenes beneath the cliffs and other analogous subjects, painted in
full sunlight--the sunlight of July and August for preference--these are
the subjects on which Sorolla laboured for several years, producing
canvas after canvas, now famous both in Europe and America.
We do not say that this outlook is ideal, but the study of light and
atmosphere was a contribution to the history of modern art, and was
among the elements which will be handed down to posterity as the
original note of the painters of the last years of the nineteenth
century. Of these Sorolla was one of the most forceful, and we lay
stress upon his work, as in our judgment its importance demands especial
notice. We have not alluded to his great talent as a portrait painter,
nor to the decorative works which he has dedicated to the Hispanic
Society of America in New York, and which, although they are completed,
are not yet installed in place. Some few years after the appearance of
Sorolla, there arose almost simultaneously two Spanish painters of other
tendencies, equally noteworthy, and whose names are universally
known--Zuloaga and Anglada. Zuloaga must be regarded in a very different
manner from Sorolla. In no sense does he go to nature merely to copy it
in the manner in which it presents itself to our vision, but he seeks,
both in nature and humanity, for types, for characteristic figures of a
representative and realistic kind. His work has developed with
robustness and force, and attracts the attention of the modern critic
eager for characteristic and singular qualities. To his reception in the
universal world of art it is not necessary to allude here. The reviews
and periodicals of all countries have commented with praise upon the
achievements of this master, who is still busily at work, constantly
engaged in the representation of popular types in the characteristic
costume of many regions, especially his own people, the Basques, and the
Castilians, for whom he appears to have a special predilection.
Those landscapes which he takes for the backgrounds of his pictures also
seem to be inspired by that love of character which animates all his
productions. In his latest phase, too, he has executed numerous
portraits of people of different social categories. In technique it is
noticeable that Zuloaga strives to preserve those tonalities which
characterize the Spanish School; and the study he has made of the works
of Velázquez and Goya is manifested in the lively reminiscences of these
masterpieces displayed at times in his pictures, which exhibit,
nevertheless, a relative modernity.
Anglada is, in our view, completely distinct from Sorolla and Zuloaga.
Enamoured of the charm of colour, his work has no connection with
schools or traditions. Aloof from every influence, he aspires to nothing
so much as rich colour-schemes and harmonies, and seeks inspiration in
night-bound gardens, brightly illuminated, in subjects which reflect
electric light, and in figures which appear all the more distinct as the
background is often the sea beneath the radiance of the Mediterranean
light. These unusual sources of inspiration appear strange at first
sight; but it is noticeable that they manifest on the part of the
painter always the same idea of seeking for rich colouring. We must
regard Anglada as one of the most remarkable and most original of modern
painters. It is a great pity that he was not represented at Burlington
House. His absence, like that of Sert, the great decorative painter,
Beltran, Miguel Nieto and others, was accounted for by the fact that
the pictures were received too late to be included in the Exhibition.
* * * * *
The salons set apart for modern painting at the London Exhibition seem
to us to have been disposed and arranged with care. There were shown in
the first of these rooms works by Sorolla, his disciple Benedito, one of
the most esteemed portrait painters in Madrid, Zaragoza, Moisés, Carlos
Vázquez, and some landscapes by Rusiñol. The second room was in complete
harmony with the first, and in it we observed the works of artists, some
of whom are still young, but nevertheless masters of strong propensity
and perfect equilibrium; the great composition by Gonzalo Bilbao, _The
Cigar-makers_ (Plate XXXVII.); the striking portraits of Chicharro and
Sotomayor; the unmistakably Spanish canvases of Mezquita and Rodriguez
Acosta; and the picturesque and suggestive note of the Valencian figures
by Pinazo Martinez.
The neighbouring room was dedicated to those who may be called painters
of character, for such was the exclusive note of all the works shown
there. It would not be easy to say who occupied the place of honour
here, Zuloaga, Romero de Torres, an artist of Cordova, who has tried to
create a type of female beauty famous throughout Spain, the brothers
Zubiaurre, peculiarly Basque in feeling, and now well known everywhere,
Salaverria, Ortiz Echagüe, Arrúe, Juan Luis y Arteta, a delicate and
emotional painter who has found on the Basque shores subjects for
pictures unusually simple, in which is displayed a delicacy of technical
expression together with the significance of an idea, inspired, like his
subjects, by a simple poetry.
Following these, in still other rooms, were hung works similar in type,
but bolder, perhaps, such as those of Solana, whose three canvases,
painted in low tones, were of great interest and excited much remark in
the exhibition; Vázquez Díaz, so various in his subjects, but always
individual; Maeztu, the consistent exponent of a colossal and decorative
style; Castelucho, Urgell, Guezala; and Astruc y Sancha, who combines
caricature of consummate mastery with the painting of landscapes of
manifest originality.
In another room were exhibited smaller landscapes. These included
examples of Rusiñol, Beruete, Regoyos, Meifren, Forns, Raurich, Colom,
Grosso and Mir. Among the work of other young painters of promise but as
yet little known, we must mention the seascapes of Verdugo Landi and
Nogue.
The next salon, known as the Lecture Room, formed a kind of overflow for
the last, and contained pictures by Hermoso, Garnelo, Simonet, Morera,
Marin Bagües, Canals, Cardona, Villegas Brieva, Oroz, Madrazo-Ochoa,
Covarsi, Bermejo, and many other artists, a list of whom would be much
too extensive for inclusion here.
* * * * *
We do not think that the assertion that Spanish painting has been a
powerful factor in the history and development of universal art will be
regarded by anyone as a discovery, nor will such a statement appear as a
result of patriotic enthusiasm. Spanish painting to-day follows its
brilliant traditions; and although we believe this present period to be
one of gestation, it occasionally reveals qualities of splendour and
greatness. It is indubitably lacking in marked and decided outlook, but
it is, nevertheless, universally respected and suffers, at the most,
merely from the exigencies of the time. Moreover, not a few critics of
distinction in the Peninsula, who concern themselves with the study of
particular movements, see in it a tendency to the formation of regional
groups. The central one naturally has its focus in Madrid, and radiates
thence over the whole of Spain; but a large output is always forthcoming
from the cities of Seville and Valencia, which appear, by the light of
tradition, as the most brilliant centres of pictorial art. There are,
moreover, two other regions which have produced rich and flourishing
art--Catalonia and the Basque provinces, with their two capital cities,
Barcelona and Bilbao.
Catalan art is no new thing in Spanish tradition, and is in a measure
descended from that which was formerly the art of the Kingdom of Aragon
before the national union. The Catalans have confined it entirely to
their territory, have cultivated it with enthusiasm, and have created a
Catalan school of Spanish Art. It is a great pity that they have not
tried to preserve a more national spirit and have frequently sought
inspiration from foreign sources, especially from France. But, this
notwithstanding, Catalan achievement is indeed most worthy of praise.
The artistic production of the Basque provinces is forcible and
original. The Basques, with a scanty pictorial tradition, have shrewdly
sought for inspiration in the Spanish sphere without distinction of
locality, and have produced an art of undoubted interest.
But apart from this there exists at the present time a movement of
worldwide character, which seems to have a literary origin and which
may, perhaps, be called, for want of a better name, the new spirit.
Though still in a chaotic state, this movement, varied in its aspects,
may in all lands be identified by an underlying intention to
revolutionize everything, creating a new æsthetic code and turning its
back on the past and on all tradition.
It is not our intention to deal with this movement or to discuss its
importance. Spain does not appear to be the country best fitted to lead
it. Its history seems to show that while it is ready of acceptance, it
is not to be hurried in its advance; nor is it eager to seize upon
radical ideas. But this notwithstanding, it has painters who understand
and cultivate art of this kind, and it must not be forgotten that one of
the outstanding figures in the ultramodern movement is the Spaniard
Picasso, who has shown once more that in all phases of artistic effort
the Spanish temperament significantly reveals itself.
A. DE BERUETE Y MORET.
(_Translated by Lewis Spence_)
[Illustration: PLATE I
YAÑEZ DE LA ALMEDINA
(_Collection of the Marquis de Casa-Arquedin, Madrid_)
“ANTA CATALINA” (“SAINT CATHERINE”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE II
PANTOJA DE LA CRUZ
(_Collection of H.M. The King of Spain_)
“PHILIP II”
]
[Illustration: PLATE III
EL GRECO
(_Collection of H.M. The King of Spain_)
“LA GLORIA DE FELIPE II”
(“THE ‘GLORY’ OF PHILIP II”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE IV
EL GRECO
(_Provincial Museum, Toledo_)
“SAN PABLO” (“SAINT PAUL”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE V
EL GRECO
_Photo: Moreno, Madrid_
(_Church of Santo Tomé, Toledo_)
“EL ENTIERRO DEL CONDE DE ORGAZ” (DETAIL.)
(“THE BURIAL OF COUNT OF ORGAZ”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE VI
EL GRECO
(_Prado Museum, Madrid_)
“RETRATO DE UN CABALLERO”
(“PORTRAIT OF A NOBLEMAN”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE VII
FRANCISCO DE RIBALTA
(_Fine Art Museum, Valencia_)
“SAN PEDRO”
(“SAINT PETER”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE VIII
ZURBARAN
(_Provincial Museum, Seville_)
“EL BEATO DOMINICO ENRIQUE SUZON”
(“THE DOMINICAN, HENRY SUZON”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE IX
VELAZQUEZ
(_Collection of Sir Herbert Cook, Bart._)
“CALABACILLAS EL BUFON”
(“CALABACILLAS, THE BUFFOON”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE X
VELAZQUEZ
_Photo: Anderson_
“LAS MENINAS” (THE MAIDS OF HONOUR)]
[Illustration: PLATE XI
VELAZQUEZ
(_Prado Museum_, _Madrid_)
“LAS MENINAS” (DETAIL)
(“THE MAIDS OF HONOUR”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XII
VELAZQUEZ
(_National Gallery, London. By permission of Messrs. Thos. Agnew &
Sons_)
“VENUS Y CUPIDO” (“VENUS AND CUPID”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XIII
VELAZQUEZ
_Photo: Mansell_
(_National Gallery, London_)
“PHILIP IV”
]
[Illustration: PLATE XIV
VELAZQUEZ
“INFANTE BALTASAR CARLOS”]
[Illustration: PLATE XV
VELAZQUEZ
_Photo: Anderson_
(_Prado Museum, Madrid_)
“INFANTE BALTASAR CARLOS” (DETAIL)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XVI
VELAZQUEZ
_Photo: Mansell_
(_Wallace Collection, London_)
“LA DAMA DEL ABANICO”
(“THE LADY WITH A FAN”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XVII
FRAY JUAN RIZI
(_Collection of Sir Herbert Cook, Bart._)
“UN CABALLERO JOVEN”
(“A YOUNG CAVALIER”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XVIII
MURILLO
_Photo: Anderson_
_Photo: Anderson_
(_La Caridad, Seville_)
“MOISES TOCANDO LA ROCA”
(“MOSES STRIKING THE ROCK”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XIX
MURILLO
_Photo: Anderson_
(_La Caridad, Seville_)
“EL MILAGRO DE LOS PANES Y LOS PECES”
(“THE MIRACLE OF THE LOAVES AND FISHES”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XX
MURILLO
_Photo: Anderson_
(_Provincial Museum, Seville_)
“SAN FELIX DE CANTALISI Y EL NIÑO JESUS”
(“ST. FELIX OF CANTALISI AND THE INFANT CHRIST”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XXI
MURILLO
_Photo: Mansell_
(_Wallace Collection, London_)
“LA CARIDAD DE SANTO TOMAS DE VILLANUEVA”
(“THE CHARITY OF ST. THOMAS OF VILLANUEVA”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XXII
CARREÑO DE MIRANDA
(_Collection of the Duke of Medinaceli, Madrid_)
“RETRATO DE UNA DAMA”
(“PORTRAIT OF A YOUNG LADY”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XXIII
CLAUDIO COELLO
(_Collection of Don Aureliano de Beruete y Moret, Madrid_)
“DON JUAN DE ALARCON”
]
[Illustration: PLATE XXIV
GOYA
(_Collection of the Duke of Montellano, Madrid_)
“EL COLUMPIO”
(“THE SWING”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XXV
GOYA
(_Collection of the Duke of Montellano, Madrid_)
“LA CUCAÑA” (“THE GREASY POLE”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XXVI
GOYA
(_Collection of the Count of Villagonzalo, Madrid_)
“AUTORRETRATO”
(“PORTRAIT OF THE PAINTER”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XXVII
GOYA
(_Fernan-Nuñez Collection, Madrid_)
“CONDE DE FERNAN-NUÑEZ” (DETAIL)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XXVIII
GOYA
(_Prado Museum, Madrid_)
“INFANTE DON CARLOS MARIA ISIDRO”
]
[Illustration: PLATE XXIX
GOYA
(_Private Collection, Madrid_)
“LA CONDESA DE CHINCHOU” (DETAIL)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XXX
GOYA
(_Collection of the Count of Villagonzalo, Madrid_)
“EL DUQUE DE SAN CARLOS”
]
[Illustration: PLATE XXXI
EDUARDO ROSALES
“MUJER SALIENDO DEL BAÑO”
(“WOMAN LEAVING THE BATH”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XXXII
MARIANO FORTUNY
(_Collection of Capt. Samuels_)
“EL PATIO DE LA ALBERCA EN LA ALHAMBRA”
(“THE ALBERCA COURT IN THE ALHAMBRA”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XXXIII
JOAQUIN SOROLLA
“SALIENDO DEL BAÑO”
(“AFTER BATHING”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XXXIV
IGNACIO ZULOAGA
“LA SEÑORITA SOUTY”
]
[Illustration: PLATE XXXV
E. MARTINEZ VAZQUEZ
“UNA ALDEA DE LA SIERRA DE GREDOS (AVILA)”
(“A VILLAGE IN THE SIERRA DE GREDOS (AVILA)”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XXXVI
LUIS MASRIERA
“SOMBRAS REFLEJADAS” (“REFLECTED SHADOWS”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XXXVII
GONZALO BILBAO
“LAS CIGARRERAS” (“THE CIGAR-MAKERS”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XXXVIII
RAMON DE ZUBIAURRE
“RETRATO DE MI ESPOSA”
(“PORTRAIT OF MY WIFE”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XXXIX
JOSÉ PINAZO
“CREPUSCULO”
(“TWILIGHT”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XL
A. ORTIZ ECHAGÜE
“SUPERSTICION”
(“SUPERSTITION”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XLI
J. GUTIERREZ SOLANA
“CARNAVAL EN LA ALDEA”
(“THE VILLAGE CARNIVAL”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XLII
JOSE BENLLIURE GIL
“HACIENDO BOLILLOS”
(“LACE-MAKING”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XLIII
C. CASTELUCHO
“NIÑOS GITANOS EN LA PLAYA” (“GIPSY CHILDREN ON THE BEACH”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XLIV
JUAN CARDONA
“ALTAR DE MAYO”
(“MAY ALTAR”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XLV
F. ALVAREZ DE SOTOMAYOR
“PAISANAS GALLEGAS”
(“GALICIAN PEASANT-WOMEN”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XLVI
CARLOS VAZQUEZ
“UNA DOLOROSA”
(“OUR LADY OF SORROWS”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE XLVII
JOSÉ Ma LOPEZ MEZQUITA
“PILARCITA”
]
[Illustration: PLATE XLVIII
FRANCISCO SANCHA
“UN PUEBLO ANDALUZ” (“AN ANDALUSIAN VILLAGE”)]
[Illustration: PLATE XLIX
JOSÉ DE MARTI GARCES
“INTERIOR”
]
[Illustration: PLATE L
NICOLAS RAURICH
“TERRUÑOS”
(“ROUGH GROUND”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE LI
JOSÉ R. ZARAGOZA
“VIEJOS BRETONES”
(“OLD BRETONS”)
]
[Illustration: PLATE LII
CONDE DE AGUIAR
“RETRATO DE UN TORERO”
(“PORTRAIT OF A BULLFIGHTER”)
]
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