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

This beautiful picture is very characteristic of Leonardo in its effects of light and shade, in grace and refinement of delineation, in felicity of gesture, and in the curious beauty of the types. Leonardo makes out of his subject a charming idyll, into which the spectator may read his own meanings. "In St. John the Baptist," says Lomazzo, writing in 1584, "we may see the motive of obedience and child like veneration, as he kneels with joined hands and bends towards Christ; in the Virgin, the feeling of happy meditation as she beholds this act; in the angel, the idea of angelic gladness, as he ponders the joy that shall come to the world from this mystery; and in the Infant Christ we behold divinity and wisdom. And therefore the Virgin kneels, holding St. John with her right hand and extending her left, and the angel likewise supports Christ, who, seated, regards St. John and blesses him." A modern poet, adding to the picture a beautiful thought of his own, has suggested that in the valley of the shadow of death the Virgin brings the soul of a dead child for her son's blessing (see an interesting discussion of "The Louvre Sonnets of Rossetti," by W. M. Hardinge, in Temple Bar, March 1891): —

Mother, is this the darkness of the end,The Shadow of Death? and is that outer seaInfinite imminent Eternity?212And does the death-pang by man's seed sustain'dIn Time's each instant cause thy face to bendIts silent prayer upon the Son, while HeBlesses the dead with His hand silentlyTo His long day which hours no more offend?Mother of grace, the pass is difficult,Keen as these rocks, and the bewildered soulsThrong it like echoes, blindly shuddering through.Thy name, O Lord, each spirit's voice extols,Whose peace abides in the dark avenueAmid the bitterness of things occult.D. G. Rossetti: Sonnets and Ballads.

The landscape from which the picture takes its title is remarkable. Leonardo, a pioneer in so many other things, was a pioneer also in Alpine exploration, and has even been credited with a first ascent in the Monte Rosa range. However this may be, it is clear from his pictures and drawings that his mineralogical and geological studies attracted him to the curious rocks and peaks which he had observed among the mountains of North Italy.213 "In him," says Mr. Pater, "first appears the taste for what is bizarre or recherché in landscape; hollow places full of the green shadow of bituminous rocks, ridged reefs of trap-rock which cut the water into quaint sheets of light; all solemn effects of moving water; you may follow it springing from its distant source among the rocks on the heath of the 'Madonna of the Balances,' passing as a little fall into the treacherous calm of the 'Madonna of the Lake,' next, as a goodly river below the cliffs of the 'Madonna of the Rocks,' stealing out in a network of divided streams in 'La Gioconda' to the sea-shore of the 'St. Anne.' It is the landscape not of dreams or of fancy, but of places far withdrawn." Notice also the flowers of the foreground. "Leonardo paints flowers with such curious felicity that different writers have attributed to him a fondness for particular flowers, as Clement the cyclamen, and Rio the jasmine; while at Venice there is a stray leaf from his portfolio dotted all over with studies of violets and the white rose." "This work," says Ford Madox Brown, "seems to have been laid in entirely with ivory black, which, as its wont is, has come through the upper painting to the extent of leaving only to look at a picture in black, heightened, in the lights, with a little faint yellow. So much is true, and also that the rocks, from which the picture takes its name, are of the most singular formations, such as no modern geologist would care to lecture on, the herbage being much the same as to its botanical value. But in spite of these and other objections, such is the intrinsic power of the work in style of drawing and beauty of expression, that nothing known, not by the greatest masters, can do more than hold their own against it. Just stand a little way off, study the heads, and see what they tell you – most supreme master of the human face divine" (Magazine of Art, 1890, p. 135).

There is, as everyone knows, a very similar picture to this in the Louvre; and during the last few years an Anglo-French dispute has raged furiously in artistic circles with regard to the authenticity, priority, and relative merits of the two pictures. The pedigree of our picture is singularly complete, and there can be no doubt that it is a veritable work by the hand of Leonardo. It agrees minutely with the description given by Lomazzo (in 1584) of a painting by Leonardo, which in his time was in the chapel of the Conception in the church of S. Francesco at Milan. The picture in the Louvre differs from Lomazzo's description in the one essential difference between the two pictures. In the Louvre picture the angel looks towards us and points to St. John, thus connecting the spectator with what is taking place. In our picture, on the other hand, there is no such connecting link. The action is complete within itself. The spectator is not invited to participate in what is to him a divine vision. It is clear therefore that our picture is the one which, in 1584, was in S. Francesco at Milan, and which passed for a work by Leonardo. External evidence has come to light during the last few years proving what had hitherto only been taken for granted, namely, that Leonardo did execute the central composition of the altar-piece for that church. This is a memorial from Ambrogio di Predis and Leonardo da Vinci to the Duke of Milan, praying him to intervene in a dispute which had arisen between the petitioners and the brotherhood "della Concezione" with regard to the price to be paid for certain works of art furnished by them for the chapel of the brotherhood in S. Francesco. The brotherhood had priced the oil-painting of Our Lady executed by Leonardo at only 25 ducats, whereas it was worth 100 ducats, as shown by the account and proved by the fact that certain persons were found willing to purchase it at that price. No evidence is forthcoming as to the settlement of the dispute. We have then these facts: that Leonardo painted a picture of Our Lady for S. Francesco, that such a picture was in the church in 1584, and that our picture precisely agrees with Lomazzo's description of it. The picture remained in the chapel until some time between 1751 and 1787. In the latter year Bianconi, in a guide-book to Milan, states that the two side panels (1661, 1662) were still there, but that the picture "by the hand of Leonardo" had been removed. In 1777 our picture was brought to England by Gavin Hamilton, and sold by him to the Marquis of Lansdowne, from whom it afterwards passed by exchange into the collection of the Earl of Suffolk at Charlton Park. From Lord Suffolk it was bought in 1880 for the National Gallery, the price being £9000.

It will thus be seen that the external evidence in favour of this picture being a veritable work by Leonardo is unusually strong. Internal evidence is more difficult to bring to the test, resting as it does on æsthetic considerations, the force of which depends on the authority of the witness and the competence of the court to which he appeals. Several critics, it may be explained, had convinced themselves long ago that the Louvre picture was the original and ours a copy. The discovery of the new document above referred to seemed at first to strengthen the authenticity of our picture. But the point was ingeniously turned by the following gratuitous and entirely unsupported theory. Leonardo, says Dr. Richter, must have sold the original to the French king, and let the church have a copy at the low price agreed upon. Supporting this theory in turn by internal evidence, the enemies of our picture declare it to be "an entirely wretched performance" (Richter); "superficial," "insipid," "heavy," "woolly," "lacking in elevation," "feeble," in short, "a work in which we do not feel the real presence of the master" (Müntz). Those who thus disparage our picture suppose it to be a copy by Ambrogio di Predis. To this theory, an effective retort has been given by the purchase for the Gallery of the two wings that used to flank the central picture. It is impossible to suppose that the painter of No. 1662 was capable of producing our picture, of which the skilful delineation and mysterious beauty delight all spectators who have no preconceived theory in the matter. It should be stated that some of the faults found with our picture are admitted by the authorities of the Gallery. "The ill-drawn gilt nimbi over the heads of the three principal figures, as well as the clumsy reed cross which rests on St. John's shoulder, are additions of a comparatively late period, probably of the 17th century." Again, "the hand of the Virgin resting on St. John's shoulder is obviously the mere daub of a picture restorer."

Those who support the authenticity of our picture do not feel called upon to carry the war into the enemy's camp, though both Sir Frederick Burton and Sir Edward Poynter notice various defects and repaintings in the Louvre picture, and the former points out that its pedigree does not extend back beyond 1642. The fact seems to be that neither picture can properly be called a copy of the other. The most striking difference – that in the attitude of the angel – is fundamental, and not such as a copyist would venture to make. There are many other differences; indeed no single part of the groups is really alike; and those differences (as Sir Edward Poynter shows) are such as an artist would make in working from different studies. Studies for portions of both pictures exist. A further question in dispute is which of the two versions is the earlier. To Sir Edward Poynter "it seems that our picture shows traces of Leonardo's training in the school of Verrocchio, and that it is the Louvre picture which has more of the idealised refinement of type on which Luini formed his style." To Mr. Claude Phillips, on the other hand, the angel of the Louvre looking straight out of the picture seems to be essentially Florentine, and to belong specifically to the school of Verrocchio (see 296 in our Gallery). The variation in the angel's attitude, as given in our version, is in conception a distinct improvement: it makes the picture more self-contained. "One can imagine," says Mr. MacColl, "Leonardo, on second thoughts, judging that the Louvre angel drew too much attention to himself by his pointing hand, and was better within the picture with downcast eyes than when inviting the attention of the spectator by his regard." (The very interesting discussion summarised above is contained in the following English publications: Dr. Richter, in the Art Journal for June 1894; replied to by Sir Edward Poynter in the same magazine for August, and by Sir F. Burton in the Nineteenth Century for July 1894. See also Eugene Müntz's Leonardo da Vinci, vol. i. ch. vi.; the Catalogue of Milanese Pictures at the Burlington Fine Arts Club, 1898, pp. li. – lvi.; Mr. Claude Phillips in the National Review, Dec. 1894; and "D. S. M." in the Saturday Review, May 28, 1898, and Feb. 18, 1899. The English articles contain references to the articles on Dr. Richter's side by Motta, Frizzoni, and others.)

1094. PORTRAIT OF A MAN

Ascribed to Sir Antonio More (Flemish: 1512-1578).

Antonij Mor (commonly known in this country as Sir Antonio More, though when and by whom he was knighted does not appear) succeeded Holbein as the principal portrait-painter settled in England. "Mor's style," it has been said, "so much resembles that of Holbein as to frequently create a doubt to which of them a portrait is to be attributed; but he is not so clear and delicate in his colouring, perhaps from having painted so much in Spain, as that master." He was born at Antwerp and studied under Schorel (see 720). An example of his earlier manner, dated 1544, is in the Berlin Museum. Mor afterwards travelled in Italy, and quickly emancipated himself from the dry manner of Schorel, as his portrait of Cardinal Granvelle at Vienna, done in 1549, shows. His portraits from this time forward are remarkable for their "unpretentious dignity." Cardinal Granvelle introduced him to the service of Charles V., by whom he was sent to Portugal to paint some of the royal family. He was in the service of Queen Mary from 1554 to 1558. She presented him with a hundred pounds and a gold chain, and allowed him a hundred pounds a quarter. He was also largely employed by the Howards and the Russells and others, grandees of the court. One of his portraits of the Queen is in the Duke of Wellington's Collection at Apsley House. When Philip went to Spain to take possession of the throne, Mor accompanied him, and for some time basked in the full sunshine of royal favour. Suddenly he withdrew to Brussels, for some cause which has never been satisfactorily explained. According to one story, the king, visiting Mor's studio, laid his hand upon his shoulder as he stood at the easel – a familiarity which the artist returned by rudely rapping the royal knuckles with his maulstick, or daubing them with carmine. The officers of the Inquisition took advantage of this incident, it is said, to vent their jealous wrath against the painter. He finally established himself at Antwerp, his declining years being spent in ease and opulence – the fruits of successful industry at the courts of England, Portugal, and Spain. He is described to us as "very much the courtier, and a gentleman of grave and majestic manners" – a description borne out by the fine portrait of himself at Althorp.

1095. PORTRAIT OF ANNA MARIA SCHURMANN

Jan Lievens (Dutch: 1607-1674).

Lievens, painter and engraver, "was a comrade of Rembrandt, but conceived a strong admiration for Van Dyck, traces of which are to be found in his portraits" (Havard: The Dutch School, p. 115). From 1631 to 1635 he was in England, where he painted the portraits of Charles I. and his Queen, and of several of the nobility. He afterwards worked at Antwerp, Leyden, and Amsterdam.

This lady (born at Cologne in 1607) was one of the most remarkable personages of her time. So great was the renown of her learning that Queen Christina of Sweden went to visit her. She was familiar with German, Dutch, French, Italian, and English; and was a good scholar in Latin, Greek, Hebrew, Syriac, Arabic, and Ethiopic. She corresponded with some of the most erudite men of the day, and excelled in many of the fine arts. Late in life she fell under the influence of the noted Pietist leader, Jean de la Badie, whose cause she persuaded the Princess Palatine Elizabeth to espouse. After his death (in 1674) she collected his disciples at Wierwerd, where she herself died four years later in complete destitution.

1096. A HUNTING SCENE

Jan Baptist Weenix (Dutch: 1621-1660).

Weenix, born at Amsterdam, was the son of an architect. His master in painting was Abraham Bloemaert. Early in life he married the daughter of Gilles de Hondecoeter; his nephew Melchior Hondecoeter (No. 202) was afterwards his pupil. In 1642 his desire to see Italy caused him to leave his young wife and to carry his palette and brushes beyond the Alps. He promised to be absent only four months. He remained in Italy four years. While there he studied the coast-scenes, the people, and the architecture; "the result of his observations being the stately scenes, half real, half conventional, of which good examples are to be found in the Wallace Collection." On his return to Holland, Weenix was largely employed, first at Amsterdam, and afterwards at Utrecht. In this country his name is chiefly associated with pictures of dead game, but subjects of this class – in which his son (238) also excelled – were only the predilection of his later years.

1098. VIRGIN AND CHILD

Montagna (Venetian: about 1450-1523). See 802.

The Child lies asleep on a window-sill. The Mother stands in an attitude of devotion. A picture of fine feeling, and characteristic of the artist's "exalted naturalism."

1100. A SCENE IN A PLAY

Pietro Longhi (Venetian: 1702-1762).

Pietro Longhi, who studied in Bologna, but afterwards settled in his native Venice, was one of the four masters who made a partial revival of Venetian painting in the eighteenth century – the other three being Tiepolo (1692-1769, see 1192), Canaletto (1697-1768, see 127), and Guardi (1712-1793, see 210). Longhi represented the Vanity Fair of Venice at his epoch with fidelity and kindly feeling. He has been called "the Italian Hogarth," but he is greatly inferior in every respect to that painter. Moreover he was not a satirist like Hogarth, and there is more truth in the description of him as "the Goldoni of painters" – Goldoni, the popular playwright, with whom Longhi was nearly contemporary, and who, like him, just reflects "the shade and shine of common life, nor renders as it rolls grandeur and gloom." "Longhi used to tell Goldoni that they were brethren in art. Longhi surveyed human life with the same kindly glance and the same absence of gravity or depth of intuition as Goldoni. They both studied nature, but nature only in her genial moods. They both sincerely aimed at truth, but avoided truths which were sinister or painful" (J. A. Symonds, in the Century Guild Hobby Horse, April 1889). Longhi was the son of a goldsmith, and as a lad showed unusual skill in designs for ornamental plate: hence the affectionate partiality in his pictures for the minutest details of decorative furniture, dress, and articles of luxury.

The engraved portrait on the wall is inscribed "Gerardo Sagredo di Morei," and perhaps the picture is a group of the Sagredo family, for whose palace in Venice Longhi painted some frescoes in 1734. The family preferred, perhaps, to be taken in the characters of a scene in a play of Goldoni's or some other popular writer – just as in the "Vicar of Wakefield" they resolved to be drawn together, in one large historical piece. "This would be cheaper, since one frame would serve for all, and it would be infinitely more genteel; for all families of any taste were now drawn in the same manner."

1101. MASKED VISITORS AT A MENAGERIE

Pietro Longhi (Venetian: 1702-1762). See 1100.

A characteristic glimpse of Venetian life a hundred years ago. "At that time," it has been said, "perhaps people did not amuse themselves more at Venice than elsewhere, but they amused themselves differently. It is this seizing on peculiarities, on local and characteristic details, that makes Longhi's little canvases so curious." Here he shows us two ladies in dominoes, escorted by a cavalier, at a menagerie. The trainer exhibits a rhinoceros to them.

1102. THE CHEVALIER ANDREA TRON

Pietro Longhi (Venetian: 1702-1762). See 1100.

The portrait of "a procurator of St. Mark's," a dignity in the Venetian State second only to that of Doge. The procurators were charged with the legal administration of all the affairs of St. Mark's, and their official palaces (the Procuratie) adjoined the church. They were further charged with the care of orphans, and with the administration of others who cared to put themselves "in chancery." The office was thus not unlike that of an English Lord Chancellor, and there is a "grandmotherliness" about this procurator that makes one think he must have discharged some of his duties well. The broad golden stole over his shoulder shows him to have been also a knight of the order of the Stola d'Oro, as the Procurator's stole was of crimson velvet. The picture is in its original frame, surmounted by the armorial bearings of the Tron family.

1103. VIRGIN AND CHILD, WITH SAINTS

Fiorenzo di Lorenzo (Umbrian: 1472-1521).

These are the dates not of his birth and death (which are unknown), but of the earliest and latest events recorded of him. In 1472 he was commissioned to paint an altar-piece, the principal parts of which may now be seen in the Pinacoteca of Perugia, and he was elected a member of the Town Council of Perugia. In 1521 he was commissioned to value some works by another painter. The resemblance of his style to that of Benozzo Gozzoli may be seen by comparing No. 283. Fiorenzo's work is best seen in Perugia, where he reveals himself as an artist of great feeling and ability. Especially remarkable is the series of scenes from the life of Bernardino (some reproduced by the Arundel Society). (See for notices of this painter Morelli's German Galleries, p. 263, and S. Brinton's Renaissance in Italian Art, pt. iii. pp. 108, 141).

The accompanying figures are – in front of the throne, St. Francis (on the right of the Child), St Bernardino, a saint of Siena (on the left), and in smaller size the donor of the altar-piece. This is one of the earliest examples in the Gallery of the introduction of portraits in this way. In the left-hand compartment St. John the Baptist; and in the right-hand one St. Bartholomew, carrying his familiar attribute – a blood-stained knife, the instrument of his martyrdom. The compartments containing the figures of St. John the Baptist and St. Bartholomew were originally at one side of the central panel, but have been placed on each side for symmetry, the corresponding twin panels being lost. Notice the beautiful pattern engraved on the gold background.

1104. THE ANNUNCIATION

Giannicola Manni (Umbrian: 1475-1544).

Born at Città della Pieve, the native town of Perugino, whose pupil and assistant he became. Several of his works may be seen in the Pinacoteca at Perugia, of which town he was a magistrate. He also executed the frescoes in the chapel attached to the Sala del Cambio.

Notice the quaint "arabesques" on the Virgin's prie-dieu, or praying-stool; they are characteristic of this painter.

1105. THE PROTHONOTARY-APOSTOLIC, JULIANO

Lorenzo Lotto (Venetian: 1480-1555). See 699.

See for the subject under 1024. "A smooth-shaven old man with a face that one would not be in the least surprised to see to-day anywhere, and least of all in England. As a portrait, it is the quietest of all those by Lotto known to me, and – if I may be allowed the word – the most 'gentlemanly'" (Berenson: Lorenzo Lotto, p. 189).

1106. THE RESURRECTION

Francesco Mantegna (Paduan: about 1470-1517). See 639.

Notice the classical sarcophagus of marble. The resurrection banner is affixed to a tall rod surmounted by a cross composed of golden balls.

1107. THE CRUCIFIXION

Niccolò da Foligno (Umbrian: 1430-1492).

The pietism, characteristic of the Umbrian School generally, is conspicuous in Niccolò, of whom Vasari remarks that "the expression of grief in his angels, and the tears they shed, are so natural that I do not believe any artist, however excellent he might be, could have done it much better." But he often overstrained this expression into grimace. He shows, says Morelli, the "tendency to exaggeration which marks the inhabitant of a small provincial town." He was capable, however, of giving grace and beauty to his female heads and heads of angels. Examples may be seen in the Brera at Milan, and in the Vatican Gallery. It is probable that Niccolò owed a good deal to Benozzo Gozzoli, who from 1452 to 1457 was working not far from Foligno (see Morelli's German Galleries, p. 258). Niccolò is often called Niccolò Alunno. The origin of this mistake, made first by Vasari, is that on one of his pictures he is described as "Nicholaus alumnus Flogging" (Niccolò, a native, or alumnus, of Foligno).

In this picture the artist seems to revel in the depiction of emotion, and (as it were) in "piling up the agony." There is the same pleasure here in the use of a new gift – that of expressing emotion – as in 583, in that of expressing perspective. The central scene of the Crucifixion is surrounded by the Agony in the Garden, Christ bearing his Cross, the Descent from the Cross, and the Resurrection. Note as characteristic of the genius loci in the Umbrian School that St. Francis of Assisi is kneeling at the foot of the cross.