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Sixty Years' Memories of Art and Artists XVI . ROBERT Wylie, however, seemed to be the central figure of the group assembled at Pont-aven. He harmonized us together He understood the Breton character, and knew how to soften its asperities, and make the people like and respect him. He was accumulating a knowledge of them which enabled him, when his strength in art was greater, to paint powerful and characteristic subjects from the history of Brittany, of which the one now owned by the Metropolitan Art Museum is a good example. He died a few years later, but not until his success had become great and unqualified. His advice to younger men was always thoughtful and kind, as, I think, Mr. Picknell, who was with him a long time at Pont-aven will acknowledge. Later in the season, Mr. F. A. Bridgman, with a young Englishman, came down to join our colony. Bridgman had but newly come to France for study. He was without experience in art, but we soon found he possessed ability and daring. He would bravely attack subjects from which most of us recoiled-and successfully too-giving us some premonition of the great facility of execution he has since attained. The peasants of Brittany as a rule are very superstitious, and very bigoted in their religion. The priests, as I saw them, are stern and unbending. I do not know that I ever saw one smile. I sat one day painting on a study for three hours. A stalwart priest strode by me every few minutes, on his round, breviary in hand, but I was no more than a post in his way -something to get by. In other parts of France I had become acquainted with curés of genial, sunny temperaments, whose presence was a benediction and who obtained the love and reverence of their flocks. But the harsh and austere manner of the Brittany priests was revolting. The Puritans of Cromwell's time were gay in comparison. A religious procession was passing through the streets with banners and sacred chants. One of our Englishmen did not feel himself called upon to remove his hat when the priests passed, as did the multitude. The crowd demanded its removal. Not complying at once he was hustled about, his hat was knocked over his face, and he was obliged to submit, but he was a most disgusted individual when he came home to dinner. There was an old ruined chateau of some architectural pretensions-formerly the stronghold of some noble family-which we visited one bright moonlight night. It was very lonely under the light and the effect was weird and mysterious, and one could almost imagine that the ghosts and phantoms of former knights and ladies might be playing hide-and-seek in the deep shadows, but some of the party were disposed to be hilarious and noisy with laughing and singing, and some peasants living within the sound of our voices were angry with us for disturbing with unseemly laughter so uncanny a spot. In their imagination the place was thronged with evil spirits. We visited Concarneau one day, the headquarters of the sardine fisheries. It was a pretty sight to see the fleet of boats returning from the day's fishing laden with the little fellows. We visited the cooking and boxing factories without being disgusted with the process, everything was so cleanly and orderly. I had engaged my passage home for the fifteenth of September from Liverpool. I had to leave my artist friends and hasten to Paris, en route to the steamer. I was loath to go, and thus sever the pleasant ties I had formed with my companions. Wylie and Shinn accompanied me in the courier's cart to Quimperlé. We strolled about the quaint old town while waiting for the train, and I bade them goodbye for the last time and was whirled away to Paris. The good Dr. Gage received me cordially in the Rue de la Paix. The doctor had been exceedingly good to me, and I am very grateful to him for his advice and assistance on many occasions. Howard Roberts had preceded me to Paris, as he was anxious to begin his studies. I found him out and with him visited a number of studios of distinguished sculptors where he might be taken as a pupil. As he could not then speak French I acted as interpreter, and succeeded in installing him with an artist of ability and prominence. Then I went on my way to Liverpool and home. I met William Hunt at the Royal Academy exhibition. He had been in London a little time, where he had undertaken a portrait of Charles Francis Adanis, then U. S. Minister to England. Hunt complained bitterly of his treatment by the minister who constantly broke his engagements, and kept the artist dancing attendance upon him. Hunt was anxious to get to France, and it was a bitter pill for him to swallow with his nervous high-strung nature, and he never got over the insulting nature of it. He finally went to France without finishing the picture. I was at home again and resumed my art work in Boston at my old studio, No. 21 Bromfield street. Art was undergoing a revolutionary process in Boston as well as elsewhere. Many good pictures were being brought from France, particularly those by Corot, Daubigny, Millet, Troyon, and others. Diaz was getting to be esteemed by buyers, and the works of Lambinet declined in value. The latter were sweet and beautiful in color and drawing, and portrayed lovely bits of pastoral landscape. I bad always considered them little gems, without pretension to an ideal type of art, but full of simple truth, translated from nature with a keen eye for the real colors of nature as they were seen by the normal vision. My old friend Gay had for some years been making charming bits from the coast about Hingham and Cohasset, showing the varied tints of rocky shore and sky and water with a great fidelity and truth of tone. They were highly esteemed and found ready buyers. But before long they had their time with the public, and something of a more vague and uncertain tone must be produced to suit the changing-taste. Many young artists began to think while studying the work of Corot that his painting was done without much effort, and that it would be easy enough to paint like that, and so, with a gray sky and a few smears of soft color upon it, and a line here and there for a stem of a tree, they thought they had done it all. They did not stop to reflect that what Corot seemed to produce without effort was the result of knowledge gained by long years of patient toil and earnest study, guided by refined poetic feeling. Our artists at this time seemed to be in a quandary as to what course to pursue. Hunt returned from France with a strong love and admiration for the works of Millet. He had a feeling of his own for a warm, generous, glowing color, a love for rich contrasts, and had a daring reckless execution when he chose to use it. With his pupils he enforced the idea that breadth was the great thing to aim at. He could obtain it himself, but could the students do the same ? It seemed not, without more discipline and study than most of them possessed. The result was that most of them left him with only a power to paint slovenly heads and figures, poorly drawn and carelessly executed. Hunt painted some finely colored heads, delicate and subtle in gradation and tone, which must rank with the best by any American artist, but, sometimes, apparently in the heat of excitement he threw off a picture that was not worthy of his powers-only an incomplete sketch or something vaguely suggesting the image in his mind. These things, in company with strong sketches by Tom. Robinson and others,' ' forced their way to the salesroom and sold for good prices. I speak of Hunt here because I wish to show that his ideas and works had a good deal of influence in shaping the work of younger men. Ideas and theories were seething in the minds of many. What would be the outcome of the bubbling mass? Inness had been painting and exhibiting his work in Boston for some time. He was gradually evolving his broad and nobler ideas during this time. His work was of unequal value, but always showed a searching after a high ideal. He was undisturbed by criticisms, and struggled on fearlessly towards the highest point he could attain. He, also, influenced the artists who were struggling for a style but who in the main only imitated his faults. What was to be the outcome of this swaying of new ideas? Were we to have new Corots or Daubignys, or Rousseaus or Hunts, or Innesses? I had almost forgotten George Fuller in this connection, but must say that his advent in Boston after many years seclusion in Deerfield was a blessing. Here was another great light to follow. The mystery and charm and the subtlety of his color and method must be studied, and numbers of imitators tried to do it, but failed ignominiously for the reason that the underlying knowledge and feeling were not there. His work in Boston had its good effect. Its great simplicity and tone carried one back to the times of the great masters of Italian art. Boston has cause to rejoice that such a man lived and worked within her borders. Speaking of George Fuller I will mention a little incident in regard to him. One day being at an art dealer's rooms in Boston looking over his collection of paintings, I discovered two or three unpretending works in which I was very much interested, as I saw in them points of great merit and very unlike their surroundings. I was so much occupied with these paintings that I sought out the proprietor and asked him who painted these canvases. Oh, he said, " an old fellow up in the country." This reply astonished me, for I could not imagine any " old fellow in the country " capa-ble of doing such work as this. A few days after I called again and found more work by the same hand. I made more inquiries and found he had a friend in Boston and so I went with Mr. Willard to see Mr. E. T. Billings, a well-known portrait painter in the Studio Building. He told us at once that the unknown was George Fuller of Deerfield, that he had been in retirement for fifteen years, but was soon to take a studio in Boston. Thus the mystery was solved and we afterwards became friends and admirers of this good, generous man and talented painter. |
