Eastlake 1841
Charles Eastlake, Paper on Fresco Painting, in: Report of the Commissioners on the Fine Arts, Together with the Minutes of Evidence, Appendix, and Index, London [The House of Commons] 1841, pp. 74–76.
APPENDIX.
PAPER delivered in by Charles Eastlake, Esq.
pp. 74–76
Paper on Fresco Painting,
by C. Eastlake, Esq.
THE present German School of Fresco Painters has been formed within the last twenty-five years. Its first essays, to which I have alluded, were in a great measure the result of a general spirit of imitation which willingly adopted all that was associated with the habits of the later middle ages. It may be as well to review the origin and progress of this state of feeling in the present century. The historians of modern German art have indeed traced its rise to earlier influences, but all agree that the circumstances to which we are about to refer greatly promoted the introduction of a new taste in Painting.
The efforts to create a new style of art, in Germany, in the beginning of the present century, were intimately connected with the struggle for political independence. The cathedrals and churches on the Rhine had been more or less desecrated and plundered, and the pictures by the early German masters dispersed and sold. The gradual recovery of these ended in the formation of collections of such works; this led to a higher appreciation of their merits, indulgently seen as they were by patriots anxious to restore and maintain all that especially characterized the German nation. With men thus inspired, the connexion of such feelings with the religion of their forefathers was obvious. German artists and writers again, who visited Italy, dwelt on the relation that had subsisted between Germany and Italy before and since the revival of letters, not only in politics but in the arts. The Tower at Pisa, the church of St. Francis at Assisi and other buildings, had been erected by Germans, and it was remembered with pride, that the new life of Italy had been kindled chiefly by the genius of the northern nations. The spirit of the middle ages was thus in a manner revived, and the Germans looked with complacency on that period when the Teutonic nations, unassisted (as they assume) by classic examples, produced a characteristic style of architecture and developed their native feeling in the arts of design and in poetry. In those ages, Architecture, the most necessary of the arts, and therefore the first in date, had time to develop itself fully, especially in the north; but before Painting could unfold itself in an equal degree, the thirst for the revival of classic learning and the imitation of classic models prevented the free formation of a Christian and national style. The early specimens of art which were most free from this classic influence were thus regarded with higher veneration, and the Germans of the 19th century boldly proposed to throw aside all classic prejudices, however imposing, and follow up the imperfect beginnings of the later middle ages in a kindred spirit. This general aim connected the early efforts of Italian art still more with those of Germany, and the German painters who visited Italy, recognised the feeling that inspired them in all works which were supposed to be independent of a classic influence.
The degrees in which this spirit has prevailed have naturally varied. With many, the imitation of the earlier masters soon gave place to a juster estimate of the general character of the art. The antique has even, to a certain extent, reassumed its empire; but on the other hand, some of the best German artists have unflinchingly maintained the general principles above described, even to the present day; indeed not a few had at first returned to the old faith, and had imbibed with it a still deeper attachment to the spirit of the early painters.
It is necessary to bear these facts in mind, in order to understand the particular aim which many (perhaps the best) of the German artists have in view. The veneration for the general spirit which prevailed at the revival of art was accompanied by an imitation of the characteristics and even the technical methods of the early painters; the habits and the productions of mediæval Italy were, as we have seen, easily associated with German feelings, and to this general imitation the adoption of fresco painting is partly to be attributed, though that art was never before practised by the Germans. Fresco painting was, in short, only one of many circumstances which had acquired interest and importance in the eyes of German painters from the above causes. The predilection for the early examples of Christian art did not exclude the study of better specimens created in the same spirit, but the indications of a classic influence were sufficient to condemn the finest works, and hence the later productions of Raphael were not considered fit models for study.
Let us now consider how far we, as Englishmen, can share these feelings and aims. If the national ardour of the Germans is to be our example, we should dwell on the fact that the arts in England under Henry the Third, in the 13th century, were as much advanced as in Italy itself; that our Architecture was even more characteristic and freer from classic influence; that Sculpture, to judge from Wells Cathedral, bid fair to rival the contemporary efforts in Tuscany, and that our Painting of the same period might fairly compete with that of Siena and Florence. Specimens of early English painting were lately to be seen,—some very important relics still exist on the walls of the edifices at Westminster. The undertaking now proposed might be the more interesting, since, after a lapse of six centuries, it would renew the same style of decoration on the same spot. The painters employed in the time of Henry the Third were English; their names are preserved. Thus in doing justice to the patriotism of the Germans, the first conviction that would press upon us would be that our own country and our own English feelings are sufficient to produce and foster a characteristic style of art; that although we might share much of the spirit of the Germanic nations, this spirit would be modified, perhaps refined, by our peculiar habits; above all, we should entirely agree with the Germans in concluding that we are as little in want of foreign artists to represent our history and express our feelings, as of foreign soldiers to defend our liberties. Even the question of ability (although that ability is not to be doubted for a moment) is unimportant; for, to trust to our own resources should be, under any circumstances, the only course. Ability, if wanting, would of necessity follow.
Many may remember the time, before the British army had opportunities to distinguish itself, when continental scoffers affected to despise our pretensions to military skill. In the arts, as in arms, discipline, practice, and opportunity are necessary to the acquisition of skill and confidence; in both a beginning is to be made, and want of experience may occasion failure at first; but nothing could lead to failure in both more effectually than the absence of sympathy and moral support on the part of the country. Other nations, it may be observed, think their artists, whatever may be their real claims, the first in the world, and this partiality is unquestionably one of the chief causes of whatever excellence they attain. It is sometimes mortifying to find that foreigners are more just to English artists than the English themselves are. Many of our artists who have settled or occasionally painted in Italy, Germany, Russia, and even in France, have been highly esteemed and employed. The Germans especially are great admirers of English art, and a picture by Wilkie has long graced the Gallery of Munich.
If however we are to look to the Germans, the first quality which invites our imitation is their patriotism. It may or may not follow that the mode of encouraging native art which is now attracting attention at Munich is fit to be adopted here. We have seen that a considerable degree of imitation of early precedents is mixed up with the German efforts: this of itself is hardly to be defended, but the imitation of that imitation, without sharing its inspiring feeling, would be utterly useless as well as humiliating. The question of fresco painting is in like manner to be considered on its own merits, without reference to what the Germans have done, except as an experiment with regard to climate. The fresco painters of Munich generally work on the walls from May to September only; the greater part of the year is thus devoted to the preparation of the cartoons. Five months in the year would probably be the longest period in which it would be possible to paint in fresco in London.
But assuming the new Houses of Parliament to be thus decorated, and that the works could not be completed before the rooms would be wanted, the paintings could be continued annually in the autumn without inconvenience. The climate of England and Germany might in some respects be more favourable to the practice of fresco than Italy. The surface of the wall is in the fittest state to receive the colours when it will barely receive the impression of the finger (when more moist, the ultimate effect of the painting is faint); this supposes the necessity of a very rapid execution in a warm climate, where the plaster would dry more quickly.
Fresco painting, as a durable and immoveable decoration, can only be fitly applied to buildings of a permanent character. Not only capricious alterations, but even repairs cannot be attempted without destroying the paintings. There can be no doubt that the general introduction of such decorations would lead to a more solid style of architecture; at the same time the impossibility of change would be considered by many as an objection. This objection would not however apply to public buildings. In case of fire, frescos would no doubt be more or less injured or ruined, but they might not be so utterly effaced and destroyed as oil pictures in the same circumstances would be. On the whole, the smoke of London might be found less prejudicial than that of the candles in Italian churches. The Last Judgment of Michael Angelo could hardly have suffered more in three centuries from coal fires than from the church ceremonies, which have hastened its ruin. The superior brilliancy (looking at this quality alone) of frescos which adorn the galleries of private houses, where they have not been exposed to such injurious influences, is very remarkable; as, for example, in the Farnese ceiling. The occasional unsound state of some walls, even in buildings of the most solid construction in Rome, is to be attributed to slight but frequent shocks of earthquake. A ceiling, painted by one of the scholars of the Carracci in the Costaguti Palace in Rome, fell from this cause. Such disadvantages might fairly be set against any that are to be apprehended in London. With regard to the modes of cleaning fresco, the description of the method adopted by Carlo Maratti in cleaning Raphael’s frescos when blackened with smoke happens to be preserved; but no doubt modern chemistry could suggest the best possible means.
The general qualities in art which fresco demands, as well as those which are less compatible with it, have been already considered. It may be assumed that it is fittest for public and extensive works. Public works, whether connected with religion or patriotism, are the most calculated to advance the character of the art, for as they are addressed to the mass of mankind, or at least to the mass of a nation, they must be dignified. Existing works of the kind may be more or less interesting, but there are scarcely any that are trivial or burlesque. This moral dignity is soon associated in the mind of the artist with a corresponding grandeur of appearance, and his attention is thus involuntarily directed to the higher principles of his art. In my evidence, I expressed the opinion that although a given series of frescos must be under the control of one artist, it would be quite possible to combine this very necessary condition with the employment of a sufficient number of competent artists by subdividing the general theme. Thus, if we suppose the general subject to be Legislation, it might combine the symbolic and dramatic styles, and even subjects of animated action. It might be subdivided, for example, into the history and progress of legislation, founded on religion and morals, and producing its effects in peace and war; exemplified in the one by industry and commercial entreprize, in the other by instances of the courage which results from a due appreciation of national benefits, and the feelings of loyalty and patriotism. Any subject of great and universal human or national interest might be made equally comprehensive. It has been assumed that the practice of fresco would be beneficial to English artists technically; we proceed to consider how it would affect them in other respects.
The painters employed on an extensive series of frescos would have to devote a considerable portion of their lives to the object. Such an undertaking would require great perseverance on their part. It is needless to say that they ought not to encounter any impatience or want of confidence on the part of their employers: the trial should be a fair one. It would hardly be possible for the artists to undertake any oil-pictures while so employed, and I confess I have some fears that, when debarred from the exercise of oil-painting, and confined to a severer and drier occupation, they might find their task irksome. One of the first artists at Munich, in writing to me not long since, said he sighed to return to oil-painting. If the German fresco painters can feel this regret at giving up their first occupation, for so many years, it may be supposed that the English artists would experience such a feeling in a greater degree. When the King of Bavaria honoured me with a visit in Rome, he told me he had made an arrangement with Schnorr, and had given him employment in fresco for ten years: that excellent artist has now been occupied at Munich in public works for a much longer period. No hopes could be held out to the principal painters that they would find time for oil-painting as well, for their designs and cartoons would take up all their spare time. After a few years, when assistants were well formed, more leisure might be gained, and it was under these circumstances that Raphael painted in oil when employed by Julius the Second in Rome; but for the first three years after he began the frescos in the Vatican, he confined himself entirely to those labours; and Michael Angelo, as is well known, painted the ceiling of the Cappella Sistina alone.
The more general practice was however to employ assistants, and this is one of the serious considerations connected with the present inquiry. Owing to the self-educating system of painters in this country, the younger artists are more independent than they are elsewhere, and they might have some reluctance to co-operate in works in which their best efforts would only contribute to the fame of the artist under whom they worked. In Italy and in recent times in Germany, this subordination was, however, not felt to be irksome, and the best scholars were naturally soon entrusted with independent works. It is possible the talents thus created would be employed to decorate private houses, but the Government would incur a sort of obligation not to leave a school thus formed unemployed, especially as the artists, from want of practice, might be less able to cope with those who had been exclusively employed in oil-painting. The result, however, might be that the school would gain in design, at some sacrifice of the more refined technical processes in colouring, in which the English painters now excel their Continental rivals. It is true some Italian painters, for example, Andrea del Sarto, the Carracci and their scholars, were equally skilful in oil and in fresco. The earlier masters were, however, generally stronger in the latter; and Sir Joshua Reynolds observes that Raphael was a better painter in fresco than in oil.