Landseer Part 7

It could not be expected that a man who had been all his life a painter would immediately acquire proficiency as a sculptor. Landseer had his lions under way nearly ten years, and in the mean time practised himself in the new art by modelling the figure of a stag.

Certain qualities of sculpture he had already shown in some of his paintings. The pose of the Newfoundland dog called A Distinguished Member of the Humane Society is conceived in the spirit of plastic art. So also is The Sleeping Bloodhound. When it came, therefore, to modelling a figure, the artist understood well how to secure a monumental pose. In this point his work is especially successful.

The lion lies in a grand, majestic att.i.tude. The mane rises like a crown on his brow, and falls in splendid ma.s.ses on either side his head. The mouth is open, and the expression a little mild for dignity.

One is reminded of the tamed spirit of the menagerie captive rather than of the proud majesty of the animal in his native wilds. A work of this sort must necessarily have a certain stiffness and conventionality which we should not like in a painting.

It is said that Landseer modelled only a single figure, and the others were cast from the same model with slight variations. When at last the work was completed, the colossal figures were mounted on huge pedestals radiating diagonally from the four corners of the square base of the monument.

XVI

THE CONNOISSEURS

The story of Landseer's art career was a series of continuous successes from his precocious boyhood to his honored old age. He was an exhibitor at the Royal Academy when he was in his teens, and early in his twenties he was successful enough in his profession to set up an establishment of his own. He then took a small house in a pleasant part of London known as St. John's Wood, and fitted up the barn into a studio. The place was called Maida Villa, as a compliment to the famous staghound which was Sir Walter Scott's favorite dog. Here Landseer lived, like Sir Walter himself, surrounded by dogs. He never married, and his sister, Mrs. Mackenzie, was for many years his housekeeper.

His life was, of course, a very busy one, filled with commissions which came much more rapidly than he could execute them. His house was enlarged as his means permitted, and became a delightful resort for many favored guests. The painter was of a frank nature, genial and kindly among his friends, witty in conversation, and a clever mimic.

An invitation to one of his parties was a privilege. Many were the distinguished patrons who visited his studio; even the royal carriages were sometimes seen standing at the door of Maida Villa.

His work was duly rewarded with the proper honors. At the age of twenty-eight, the painter was elected to membership in the Royal Academy, and twenty years later he was knighted. Thereafter he was known as Sir Edwin Landseer, probably the most popular painter of his day.

He is described as a man of heavy figure, six feet in height, with a weather-beaten countenance. He used to wear a sober gray tweed suit, and had the general appearance of an English country gentleman. His movements were quick and energetic.

Our portrait shows him at the age of sixty-two, when his beard was white. His face is attractive because of the kindly expression, but it is by no means handsome. The redeeming feature is the high broad forehead, the sign of the fine poetic temperament of which so many of his works are proof.

It was characteristic of Landseer to paint his portrait with his dogs.

Neither the man nor his art can be separated from the animal to which he devoted his best gifts. The dogs give the t.i.tle to the picture, and with the genial humor natural to the painter, he represents himself as the subject of their criticism. Holding his sketch-book across his knees, he appears to be making a pencil study of some dog subject, while over each shoulder peers the grave face of a canine "Connoisseur." The dog at the painter's right seems to express approval, while his more critical comrade on the other side reserves judgment till the picture is completed.

It would appear that Landseer's dog pictures were faithful enough to satisfy the judgment of the originals. "We cannot help believing,"

writes an admiring critic,[22] "that the manner in which Landseer drew the forms and expressed the character of the canine race would have been rewarded with the grat.i.tude, if not the full satisfaction of such a critic.... On the whole, seeing that he was but a man [the Connoisseurs] must, we fancy, have allowed that he was a good artist, a fair judge of character, and meant kindly by them."

[Footnote 22: Cosmo Monkhouse.]

The honors bestowed upon Landseer culminated at the time of his death in the magnificent funeral ceremonies attending his burial at St.

Paul's Church, London. His body was laid near those of Sir Joshua Reynolds, Turner, Fuseli, and other famous English painters. In the memorial sermon following the funeral, the painter's character was fittingly summed up in a few lines from Coleridge's "Ancient Mariner."

"He prayeth well who loveth well Both man and bird and beast,

"He prayeth best who loveth best All things, both great and small, For the dear G.o.d who loveth us He made and loveth all."