Thoughts on Art and Autobiographical Memoirs of Giovanni Dupre Part 8

GIUSEPPE SABATELLI.

EMILIO SANTARELLI."

The signatures of the subscribers were as follows:--

Maria Bargagli, widow of Rosselli del Turco Lire 2 0 0 Antonio Sferra 4 0 0 N. N. will pay in all as above 4 0 0 E. Merlini 3 0 0 E. Ba. 3 6 8 M. M. will pay in all as above 2 6 8 G. C. pays at once 10 0 0 T. D. B. will pay up to September 6 13 4

And thus I obtained 26 lire and 4 crazie a-month for five months, which were sufficient to enable me to finish the "Abel." From that time forward I have troubled n.o.body.

[Sidenote: VISIT TO BARTOLINI.]

Thanks to the aid of those generous persons who a.s.sisted me, and whose names as I read them thrill me to the heart, I went on every day with my model, carefully copying him, and giving a proper expression. There was a moment when I hesitated as to the name I should give to my statue,--or I should rather say, that this hesitation was induced by the Cavaliere Pietro Benvenuti, who thought that, in consequence of the absence of any clear attributes to explain the subject, I should rather call it an Adonis. I had never been greatly impressed either by the name or story of Adonis, and I never had wished to join the devotees of Olympus; but my respect for this gentleman made me somewhat hesitate, and before going on further, as the difference of subject required a difference of character, expression, and style, I determined to ask the judgment of some one in whose decision I could in every way safely confide--and this person was Bartolini. With this view I went one morning to his house in Borgo Pinti, having already informed myself that the hour when he could receive me was between half-past five and six o'clock in the afternoon.

I see him as if it were now. He was seated in his garden, with a cup of coffee, which he was slowly sipping when I approached him and said, "Signor Maestro, would you do me the favour to visit me at my studio, and give me your opinion on a statue that I am modelling?"

He answered: "You have called me _maestro_, and that is all right; but I do not know you: you are not one of my scholars at the Academy. Who is it, then, who supervises your statue, and who is your master?"

"I had some time ago some lessons from Magi and Cambi, and I am not unknown to you, who had the kindness to praise a little statuette of mine in wood, the Santa Filomena. But I have asked neither Magi nor Cambi, nor any one else, to correct the statue that I am now making, and this for very good reasons."

[Sidenote: BARTOLINI RETURNS MY VISIT.]

Bartolini smiled at these words, and said to me, "To-morrow at six I will come to see you. Leave your name with the servants, and go in peace."

In the evening, when I went home, I said to my wife: "Listen. Call me early to-morrow morning, for before six I must be at my studio, as a Professor is coming to see my statue."

And she called me, poor dear--and called me in time. How it happened I know not, but I was late, and six o'clock was striking as I pa.s.sed the Piazza di Sta Croce. When I arrived at my studio, I found in the hole of the door-lock the card of Bartolini, on which he had written in pencil--"Six o'clock in the morning." I ran immediately to his studio in the Porta San Frediano to make my excuses, and to inform him that I had been but a moment late. His carriage was still at his door. He had not taken off his coat, and he was correcting with his pencil a statue, so that the workman might see as soon as he arrived where he should work.

As soon as he saw me, and before I had begun to exculpate myself, he said, "Never mind; there is no harm done. I will come again to-morrow.

_Addio!_"

It is scarcely necessary for me to say that the next morning I was at my studio by five o'clock, and at six Bartolini knocked. He came in, looked at the statue, scowling, and p.r.o.nouncing one of his oaths, which I will not repeat. I begged him to tell me where I was wrong, and how I could make it better. He asked me what was the subject, and I told him that I intended it for a Dying Abel. I then showed him the sketch, upon which was the goat-skin that as yet I had not put on the large model, in order first to study carefully the nude underneath. And then I told him the objection that Benvenuti had made, and his proposal to change the subject. Bartolini answered, "You will do the best possible thing not to change it, for, as far as regards the clear indication of the theme, nothing more could be done. Besides, the goat-skin, which immediately denotes a shepherd, the wound on the head, and the expression of gentleness, explain that it is Abel. Now, I will give you a little counsel as to the unity of expression, to which you must carefully attend. The face, you see, is gentle, and is that of a just man who pardons as he dies. The limbs also correspond to this sentiment There is only one discord, and that is in the left hand. Why have you closed it, while the right hand is open, and just as it should be?"

[Sidenote: BARTOLINI'S CRITICISM.]

"I closed it," I answered, "in order to give variety."

"Variety," said the master, "is good when it does not contradict unity.

You will do well to open it like the other,--and I have nothing else to say."

This comforted me, but wis.h.i.+ng to draw from him something more, in an exacting tone I said, "And as to the imitation, the character, the form?"

"The imitation, the character, and the form of this statue show that you are not of the Academy."

Other words he also added, which it is not proper for me to report. As to the feet, he only made a movement with his thumb, and I said, "I understand."

He looked at me, and added, "All the better for you if you have understood."

This ended all the correction of my statue made by this singular man. It was the first and the last. Bartolini was disdainful and unprejudiced, and called things by their real name; and if any one seemed to him an a.s.s, he called him an a.s.s, though he might be senator or minister. He knew that he was a great sculptor, and liked to be so recognised by all.

He was often epigrammatic, and to his pungency he frequently added indecency,--liberal and charitable, jealous of the decorum and education of his family, an admirer of the code of Leopold, Frederic the Great, Napoleon the Great, and the principles of Eighty-nine. He liked to be called master, and detested to be called professor. He ridiculed all decorations, but what he had he wore constantly. As a sculptor he was very great. His example was better than his teaching. He restored the school of sculpture by bringing it back to the sound principles of truth. His enemies were numerous and very provoking, but he took no pains to conciliate them. When he was irritated, he struck about him right and left, las.h.i.+ng out fiercely, and laughing.

[Sidenote: BARTOLINI'S CHARACTER.]

I went on and finished my statue, shutting out everybody except my dearest friends, among whom was Professor Giuseppe Sabatelli, who, after seeing my work and signing my pet.i.tion for a.s.sistance, took a liking to me. And every morning, with a knock which we had agreed upon, he came to my studio to sit for a while, before going, as usual, to paint the _cupoletta_ of the Chapel of the Madonna in the Church of San Firenze.

He used at once to sit down and say--"I am not ill, but I am tired." He was thin and pale, and his black moustaches made his gentle and quiet face look even paler. Only few and kindly words came from his lips. As a companion, he was mild and pleasant. His memory comes over me sadly, and seems like the remembrance of something dear which has been mislaid, but not lost.

[Sidenote: I FINISH THE ABEL.]

By the first days of September I finished the Abel; and the caster Lelli, who was then also a beginner, undertook the casting, and gave his service in the most friendly way, so that the expense should be as small as possible. All my friends, indeed, came forward to aid me in making the mould and casting, and removing the outer mould, with that brotherly love that I still recall with emotion. They are still living: Ferdinand Folchi the painter, who served me as model for the hands; Ulisse Giusti, the carver; Bartolommeo Bianciardi, Paolo Fanfani, and Michele Poggi, all carvers. They came to help me to raise and turn over the mould, or to give me any other a.s.sistance. Folchi and Sanesi a.s.sisted me in taking off the waste mould; and, in a word, all were eager to see my work finished and put on exhibition. Bartolini told me to select the place at the Academy that I thought best; and that if I found any opposition, as no one but the professors had any right to make the choice of place, to come to him there in the school, and he would arrange it for me. I had no occasion to avail myself of this frank and kind offer, for no sooner had Benvenuti seen me and the statue than he said, "Select the place and the light that you prefer."

As soon as the exhibition was opened there was a crowd about my statue.

Its truth to nature, its appropriateness of expression, and the novelty and sympathetic character of the subject, made a great impression, and every day the crowd about the statue increased. But little by little it began to be whispered about, first in undertones, and then more openly and authoritatively, that the statue was worth nothing, because it was not really a work of art, but merely a cast from life; that I had wished to take in the Academy, masters, scholars, and the public; and that such a living piece of work thus introduced as if it were a work of art, while in point of fact it was a mere cast from life, ought at once to be expelled from the public exhibition. And this scandalous talk, which was as absurd as malign, originated among the artists, and especially among the sculptors. It was pushed to such a point, that in order to make the fraud clear, they obliged the model, Antonio Petrai, to undress, and laying him down in the same position as the statue, they proceeded with compa.s.ses and strips of paper to take all the measures of his body in length and breadth. Naturally they did not agree in a single measure; for, without intending it or thinking about it, I had made my statue four fingers taller and two fingers narrower across the back. This beautiful experiment was made in the evening; and the President of the Academy, who by chance surprised them in the very act, reprimanded all severely, not heeding whether among them there were professors.

[Sidenote: MALIGNANT ACCUSATIONS.]

But none the less this malignant and ridiculous accusation was still kept up, and nothing was said of the failure of the attempted proof. The model himself, who persisted in affirming that the statue was modelled and not cast, was openly jeered; and one person went so far as to tell him, that for a bottle of wine he could be made to say anything. But the person who thus insulted Petrai had better have let him alone, for Tonino--who, poor man, though now old, would still hold his own perhaps--added certain arguments to his words which no one dared to resist.

Signor Presidente Montalvo was quite right in expressing his disapproval of this dirty and impertinent examination, which was made without giving notice to the President and Director of the Academy; but, besides this, he felt all the more inclined to a.s.sume my defence on account of a little debt of conscience that he had towards me, and that he wished to pay off.

One day, before resolving to take a studio on lease, I made up my mind to pet.i.tion the Grand Duke to give me one gratis. The Government had then at its disposition several small studios, which were given away, without rent and for an indefinite time, to those young men who either in painting or sculpture gave good promise not only of apt.i.tude, but also of goodwill and proper conduct. As I did not think myself wanting in all these qualities, and specially the last two, I determined to make an application, driven to it indeed by necessity. But before presenting my pet.i.tion I wished to inform the President of it, and to beg that he would be so kind as to lend me his support, as I well knew that pet.i.tions of this nature were always pa.s.sed on to him for due information.

[Sidenote: PEt.i.tION FOR A GOVERNMENT STUDIO.]

Montalvo was a perfect gentleman, and of an ancient and wealthy family, instructed in the history of art, a great admirer of it, and a very good friend of all artists, especially of those who to their artistic skill added an outward practice of religious duties, to which he was a devotee--though, as far as sentiment, enthusiasm, and real taste for art go, he was not distinguished.

Accordingly, I went one morning to pay him a visit at his rooms in the gallery of the Uffizi--he being also a Director of the Royal Gallery. I must here premise that I was not much in his good graces, because I had not studied at the Academy, which he believed to be the true nursery of an artist. As soon as he saw me, suspecting perhaps what I had come to ask, he said to me--

"And what do you want?"

"I come, Signor President, to say to you that I have made a pet.i.tion to his Royal Highness the Grand Duke in the hope of obtaining a studio to make a model of a statue that I wish to exhibit this year in the Academy. My means are narrow, because I have a family; and before presenting this pet.i.tion to the Sovereign, I have thought it my duty to inform you, and at the same time to beg your aid, and to use your influence that it may be answered favourably."

[Sidenote: GOVERNMENT STUDIO REFUSED.]

He answered, "You are not a pupil of the Academy, and therefore you have no right to ask for a studio, which the grace of the Sovereign grants only to those who have completed their studies in our Academy of Fine Arts."

"If I have not studied," I answered, "at the Academy, I have competed there, and gained the triennial prize, which is the end of the studies at the Academy."

The good Signor replied with impatience, "Which, then, do you think that you are, Canova or Thorwaldsen?"

"G.o.d save us, Signor President, I never thought this! But it may be permitted to me to observe, that even Canova and Thorwaldsen began from small beginnings, and were not born at once great sculptors, as Minerva sprung from the head of Jove."

You see that I really had no luck this morning; for the Director, rising, said to me, "Ah, then, as you argue in this way, I will tell you that, if the pet.i.tion is referred to me for information, you shall have nothing," and then reseated himself.

I made my bow, and went out. But when I was outside, and wished to put on my hat, I found it was completely crushed: without being aware of it, I had reduced it to this state. So much the better. You lose as far as your hat is concerned, but you gain in character; and I counsel all young men who find themselves in a similar situation to take the same course.

[Sidenote: CAVALIERE RAMIREZ DI MONTALVO.]

But for all this, I repeat, Cavaliere Ramirez di Montalvo was a good and excellent man; but everything irritated him which seemed to him in the least to run off the rails. In his view, a youth who had not come out of the wine-press of the Academy could have little good in him, and he looked upon him as being a schismatic or excommunicated person. The Academy was to him the baptism of an artist, and outside of it he saw neither health nor salvation. I fell under him, and he crushed me.

_Parce sepulto._

But he was soon obliged to go back on this academic puritanism. His friend Cavaliere Pietro Benvenuti spoke to him in praise of this germ which was budding forth outside the privileged garden; and he soon began to regret having treated me with a _nonchalance_ more appropriate for a pasha than a Christian. I believe this--and more, I am sure of it; for having gone one day to invite him to come and see a statue which I was modelling, he received me with singular kindness. It was as if he had never seen me before, much less had spoken to me so severely only a few months before, when I urged him to look with favour on my pet.i.tion for a studio. I was moved to invite him, not only because by nature I am not tenacious in my resentments, but because I knew that he desired to see me--perhaps because he regretted not having been able to further my request. In a word, I went to see him, and found him most kindly disposed, as I have said; and he accepted my invitation, and came to call upon me at my studio in San Simone, where I modelled my Abel.

I have said that Cavaliere Montalvo was rather deficient in his sentiment and taste for art, but he liked the contrary to be thought of him. He was not indeed entirely without a certain discernment, and he had enough to enable him to distinguish an absolutely bad thing from an absolutely good thing. He was, in a word, a connoisseur in a general way; but his dignity as Director of the Royal Galleries, and even more as President of the Academy of Fine Arts, required him to conscientiously believe himself a connoisseur with refined taste. What I was then ignorant of in this respect I now clearly know, but I had a suspicion of this from the manner in which he looked at my statue, and by his expressions of praise, which were interlarded with commonplaces which he had learned from the stale formulas of the Academy. And in order that I should not imagine that he had found everything as it should be in the statue, he wished to point out some defect, and what he discovered was this, that the left ear seemed a little too far back, by which the jaw was enlarged beyond what it should be.