Modern portraitist biography

Well, I will fulfill your desire exactly, and not only because it coincides with my attitude to the kind of boring articles that are called the “salon”; And, also, not because this method is easier than another, for, on the contrary, brevity requires great effort than verbosity. I just have no other opportunity, especially in this case. Of course, my task would be more complicated if I had a scattering of original talents before a whole scattering, or if modern French temperament, suddenly transforming, cleansing and younger, bloomed with such a bright, diverse and fragrant color that this miracle would cause irrepressible amazement, violent enthusiasm, multiple admiration and the need for new categories in the critical language would have appeared.

However, fortunately - of course, only for me - there is nothing similar and at all. No explosion, no incredible geniuses. Thoughts, evicted by the current exposure of the salon, are quite traditional, simple and familiar, and I will probably have enough few pages to state them. And therefore, do not be surprised if the writer's writer responds to the banality of the artist, that is, banality.

However, you do not lose anything on this, for is it really happy to realize anything that you share this opinion more seductive, more exciting and nutritious for the mind than a common place? Before getting down to business, let me express regret, which, as I hope, I do not have to experience often in the future. It was announced that the guests would come to us, and moreover, we are partly familiar, because the last exhibition at Avenue Montaigne opened some of the wonderful artists to the Paris public, about which she had no idea for too long.

I was gladly preparing to welcome the generous, naive and noble Humourist Leslie again, which perfectly embodies the English national character; both khants, of which one is a convinced naturalist, and the other is a passionate and purposeful creator of the Brotherhood of Pre -Raphaelites; bold, ardent and self -confident Maclis; poetic and meticulously accurate Milles; J.

She, she combines Claude Lorren and Watt in the scenes of festive festivities in large Italian parks; Grant, the natural heir to Reynolds; Huka, whose "Venetian Grasr" are permeated with magic light; an amazing Peyton that resembles a fusela and not in the least patiently embroiders elegant images of a pantheistic chaos; The watercolist of the cattermola, the author of historical scenes, and one more whose name slipped from my memory, an amazing architect-laughter who erected fantastic cities on paper, where bridges rest on elephants, and huge three-mast schooners float between these giant sculptures on all sails!

For these adherents of the free imagination and an unusual color for us, for these favorites strange muses were even prepared halls, but, alas, for reasons unknown to me, which, moreover, it makes no sense to state on your pages, my expectations were deceived. So, this time we will not see the tragic impulses and passions in the manner of Kin and Mcred, sincere house comfort, oriental luxury, reflected in the poetic mirror of the English attitude, Scottish greens, bewitching freshness, bottomless depth of the watercolors, which, despite their small sizes, are perceived by large -scale, like theatrical scenery.

Really a reception that you have on your first visit was so cold that now you, hot champions of the imagination and other invaluable qualities of the soul, consider us unable to appreciate you? So, dear M, believe me, I am ready to talk about the artists of my country with great joy and love. Unfortunately, on the more or less sophisticated critic, patriotic considerations do not have a decisive effect and we will not do without some annoying confessions.

When I visited the current salon for the first time, I met a certain art critic on the stairs, one of the most respected and thin. To the first question that I, of course, turned to him, he replied: “Freet, mediocre; It was rare for me to see such a dull exhibition. ” He was right and wrong at the same time. The exposition where the numerous works of Delacrois, Pengillas and Fromanten cannot be dull; However, after walking around the halls, I, in general, joined his opinion.

There is no dispute, at all times, mediocrity quantitatively prevails, but the spectacle of its undivided domination and celebration makes a depressing impression.

The view of all these vulgarities, brought to perfection, carefully licked nonsense, cleverly tailored crafts and stupid things involuntarily prompted me to compare between the artist of the past and the present. Sad thoughts inevitably led to a cruel and eternal issue - why?The conclusion suggests itself that the spiritual heat, the exalted searches and the noble ambition gave way to insignificance, infantility, the lack of curiosity and the flat, self -permanent indifference both in the field of plastic arts and in literature.

And, apparently, nothing currently portends a magnificent spiritual heyday, which gave the era of restoration. Believe me, such bitter thoughts do not depress me, and below I will try to prove it. So, let's turn for an example to the old masters, let's put it to Swan or David: what did they imagine? Lebren is an example of erudition, creative imagination, knowledge of the past, admiration for the sublime.

And David, this giant, over which the pigmoses mocked, wasn’t he and the personification of the deep knowledge of the past and love for him, an example of admiration for the exalted one? Who has become the artist, the poet’s primordial brother? In order to correctly answer this question, dear M shameless praise sometimes turns into return shamelessness. Now - and for a long time - the artist, in the complete absence of merits, lives in Balovny.

How much honors and money other soulless and ignorant ministers of the Muse are crumbling! Of course, I am not a supporter of the introduction of means alien to them into the plastic arts, and yet I cannot help but feel sympathy for such, for example, an artist as a Shenar, who is invariably pleasing, how a good book can please, which is elegant even in his inconsistencies. With him, at least I can talk about Virgil or Plato, not taking care of at all that mediocre brothers chose him with a target for ridicule.

A charming gift is overwhelmed by over, instinct attracts him to the beautiful as steadily as a predator - to prey. The clear and sober mind of Daume shines in every word of it. With all the bumps and variegation of Ricar’s speeches, in an interview with him, he feels all the time that he knows a lot and thought a lot. It is unnecessary, I think, to give characteristics to the statements of Eugene Delacrois, who perfectly combines philosophical thoroughness, wit and creative combustion.

And besides them, I do not remember among contemporary artists not a single one worthy of talking with a philosopher or poet. Everyone else is just a pamper. I conjure you, tell me: in which salon, cafe, at what home or public reception did you have a chance to hear a significant word, uttered by one of these pounds, a word fulfilled by deep meaning, brilliant or soulful, leading to thoughts capable of waking up thought or feeling?

Such a word could pronounce not only a politician or philosopher, but simply a person of any profession alien to us: a hunter, a sailor, a w playful master of stuffing-anyone, but not an artist-beam. Balovy inherited the privileges that his predecessors deservedly used. The enthusiastic veneration surrounding David, Hermen, Zhirod, Gr., Delacroix, Bringon, graciously now illuminates his insignificant person with his rays.

And at the same time, as really knowledgeable and poetically gifted artists, they earn their living with hard labor-dumb money aces generously pay for the unusual nonsense, which came out of the banter of the beam. I would not have complained if such good deeds were repaid worthy. I do not belong to those people who envy the singer or dancer, who has achieved the heights of glory and material success at the cost of everyday labor and professional risk.

I would be like a blessed memory of Kruchkorotor Girarden, who had stupidity to reproach theophilus once that he receives much more money for the fruits of his imagination than a judgment-for his service. It was on those ill-fated and memorable days when Girarden turned to a frightened public in Latin: Pecudesque Locutae [1]. No, I'm not so unfair, but sometimes you should still increase my voice and loudly express your indignation against the stupidity of contemporaries; Indeed, at a time when Delacroke's delightful canvas could hardly find a buyer for a thousand francs, slurred Mesonier figures were estimated at ten, or even twenty times higher.

However, these good times behind, today we fell even lower, and Mr. Mesonier, who, with all his merits, was the culprit of the emergence and spread of taste to grinding the form, seems truly a giant compared to the current manufacturers of insignificant trifles. The underestimation of the role of imagination, the contemptuous rejection of everything truly great, love - no, this is too high a word - interest exclusively in the craft side of art - that, as it seems to me, the main reasons for reducing the artist’s creative level.

The richer the imagination, the better you need to possess the craft, the less you need to boast and stick it out - only then the imagination can shuffle in full force. This is how wisdom says, and she adds to what was said: one who owns only dexterity, not far from the animal, but the imagination that does not rely on skill is akin to madness. No matter how simple these truths are, they are higher or lower than the understanding of the contemporary artist.The daughter of the concierge decides: “I will go to the theater school, go to the fraud of the Comedy Fransez and will recite Kornel’s poems, until I achieve equal rights with those who recite them for a long time.” And she performs her intention.

Her game is distinguished by quite classic monotony and quite classical boredom and ignorance, but the girl succeeds on the path accessible to her: at the cost of patience, she achieves privileges due to the acting estate. The contemporary artist is also reasoning in the same way: “Imagination? Risk and extra work! Reading and studying the past? Lost time! I will work in a traditional manner, but not like Berten because the tradition is changeable, but like it also performs his intention.

He writes, writes without stopping, until he clogs his soul at all and is not finally made like a fashionable artist, until stupidity and technical dexterity won the sympathy and money of the public. And the imitator of the imitator, in turn, finds the imitator, and each of them strives for his ideal of glory, harder and more tightly clogging his soul and, most importantly, not reading anything, without picking up even a cook book, which, perhaps, would give him less income, but more honest glory.

Having perfectly mastered the art of sauces, patches, glazes, licking, juices, sharp seasonings, now I am talking about painting, the indulgence is proudly hiring with even greater confidence than before, he repeats to himself that everything else is a failure. Once, a German peasant came to the artist and told him: “Mr. Painter, I want you to write my portrait.

Picture me in front of my house, in a large father’s chair. My wife with a spinning wheel sits beside me, and our daughters are troublesome for us to collect a family dinner. Sons are suitable along the large road on the left; Some returned from field work and have already managed to put oxen in a stall; Other sons, along with their grandchildren, unload carts with hay. Branding the phone, I observe everything that is happening; By the way, do not forget, I ask you to depict smoke from my tube, pierced by sunset rays.

I also want the ringing of the bells of the neighboring church calling for Vespers to be heard. In it, we were all married, and fathers and children. It is very important that you display the satisfaction that I experience at this hour, contemplating at the same time my family and my wealth, multiplied by the fruits of the last work day! Without suspecting it, he understood painting.

Love for his craft exalted his imagination. Which of our fashionable painters is able to write such a portrait, which of them has enough imagination to convey it all?