The Life, Letters and Work of Frederic Leighton Volume II Part 26

[Ill.u.s.tration: STUDY IN COLOUR FOR "TRAGIC POETESS." 1890 By permission of Mrs. Stewart Hodgson]

In a letter dated 1886 Watts wrote: "Leighton will carry off all the honours this year with his ceiling[72] and his two statues."

"An Athlete Awakening from Sleep" (given to the Tate Gallery by Sir Henry Tate) is generally known as "The Sluggard," a name bestowed on it by Leighton himself. The victor's garland lies at the feet of the athlete, a garland which does not preserve the owner from a sad weariness. Mr. Brock, R.A., in whose studio "An Athlete" was modelled, executed the fine bust of Leighton which was deposited in the Academy as Mr. Brock's diploma work.[73]

Sir John Millais admired greatly the other work alluded to in Watts'

letter, "Needless Alarms." Leighton gave him this statuette, and Millais, desiring to show his grat.i.tude in a tangible form, painted the picture "Sh.e.l.ling Peas" for Leighton.

In at least fourteen of the eighty pictures shown at the Academy during the last seventeen years of Leighton's life, there can be traced an earnest sentiment beyond the "sincerity of emotion" for beauty which all evince. This feeling is, however, always guarded by a marked reticence from sentimentalism. "Elijah in the Wilderness,"

"Elisha Raising the Son of the Shunammite," "The Jealousy of Simoetha, the Sorceress," "The Last Watch of Hero," "Captive Andromache,"

"Return of Persephone," "Rizpah," "Tragic Poetess," "Sibyl,"

"Farewell," "The Spirit of the Summit," "Fatidica," "Lachrymae," and the last pa.s.sionate figure of "Clytie." The most popular pictures Leighton painted during these years appear to be "Sister's Kiss," "The Light of the Harem" (developed into a picture from the design of a group in the fresco, "The Industrial Arts of Peace"), "Idyll,"

"Whispers," "Wedded" (now in Australia), "Memories," "Letty,"

"Invocation," "Solitude," "The Bath of Psyche," "Bacchante," "Corinna of Tanagra," "The Bracelet," "Summer Slumber," "Atalanta," "Flaming June," and "The Fair Persian" (unfinished). Two sketches in the Leighton House Collection record effects which greatly fascinated Leighton in Scotland--"A Pool, Findhorn River," deep tortoisesh.e.l.l brown; and "Rocks in the Findhorn," pink and grey enriched by lichen, and it was in Scotland that the Lynn of Dee inspired the subject of "Solitude." Leighton described to me the deep impression this Lynn of Dee had made on him. "It is the veriest note of solitude!

a wonderful spot, full of poetic inspiration." In order to transmit a vivid record of this sentiment to his canvas, he took a second journey to the place.[74]

[Ill.u.s.tration: "ATALANTA." 1893 By permission of the Berlin Photographic Co., the owners of the Copyright]

[Ill.u.s.tration: "FLAMING JUNE." 1895 By permission of Mrs. Watney]

[Ill.u.s.tration: STUDY FOR "FLAMING JUNE." 1895]

[Ill.u.s.tration: "FATIDICA." 1894 By permission of Messrs. T. Agnew & Son, the owners of the Copyright]

[Ill.u.s.tration: STUDIES FOR "FATIDICA." 1894 Leighton House Collection]

Leighton wrote the following letter to his father when first visiting Forres, in which he described the "craze" he had for these "dark brown Scotch rivers":--

ROYAL STATION HOTEL, FORRES, N.B.

I drove over to Dunkeld (twelve and a half miles) to lunch at the Millais'; I think the drive one of the most enchanting things I know, and I was favoured, moreover, by a few of those divine glimpses of blue and silver sky of which Scotland has the monopoly (a monopoly which she uses, perhaps, just a trifle too modestly). This is Forres, as the paper shows you; if Macbeth's witches really did live in this neighbourhood, it is just as well they had their hands pretty full, for they would have found the place uncommonly dull otherwise, especially on the "Sawbath." On the other hand, the drive to and the walk along the banks of the Findhorn--the excursion for which one comes here--is quite delightful, and indeed surpa.s.sed my expectations.

I must tell you that I have nothing short of a craze for your dark brown Scotch (and Irish) rivers, as dark as treacle, and as clear as a cairngorm. This particular stream contrives to rush part of the way through fantastic rocks of pink granite--you may imagine the effect. Here again from the heights over the river I _ought_ to have seen the sea and the coast of Sutherlandshire; but the weather was sulky and I had to draw on my imagination for the view.

In the forenoon I went over by train to Elgin, to see the ruined cathedral, which is fine, but, like all Scotch architecture that I have seen, crude and barbaric. As I stood on the platform before starting, I heard a gruff, good-humoured voice hailing me from a train on the other side; it was the voice which goes so well with the rubicund face of the Duke of Cambridge. I was going by the same train, so he made me get into his compartment; he was going to Balmoral or Aberfeldie. He was very comic about B---- and his article in the _Nineteenth Century_--"A fellow who fouls his own nest is always a d----d bad lot--a d----d bad lot," with which sentiment I close a d----d long letter.--From your affectionate son,

FRED.

"Atalanta" may be noted, perhaps, as the strongest work achieved by Leighton. Here _is_ "enormous power," though shown on a comparatively small canvas. For n.o.ble beauty of the Pheidian type in the grand and simple pose and modelling of the throat and shoulder, it would be difficult to find its peer in Modern Art, and yet it was only the worthy record of the beauty of an English girl. "Flaming June" (a design first made to decorate as a bas-relief the marble bath on which the figure in "Summer Slumber" reposes), is equally perfect in the fine fulness of the modelling, but it lacks the direct simplicity which gives such a distinguished strength to the "Atalanta." In the sketch for "Flaming June" reproduced in these pages the pose is better explained than in the completed picture, the foreshortened line of the back and shoulder being confused somewhat by the drapery in the painting.

At the age of twenty-five, in the wing-like petals of a cyclamen, Leighton had succeeded in securing with the pencil the quality towards which he aimed from the beginning to the end of his studies--and these only ended with his life--namely, absolute completeness as far as human eye and hand can reach completeness in rendering the perfection of nature's forms. Notably in "Neruccia" and in "Psyche" he reached that aim with the brush, but in "Atalanta," and in such studies as those for "Flaming June," "Fatidica," and--imbued with a yet further interest of dramatic feeling--for "Clytie," his aim was reached with more freedom and power of touch. The quality of beauty in these works was no invention of his--only, as has been noted before, a discernment and echo in the artist's apprehension of n.o.bler truths in nature than are discovered by the many. They are n.o.bler, because possessing the germ of life and movement. In all nature's forms, beauty and style result from the spring and moving on--the development of growth, whether it requires aeons to develop the form as in mountains, years as in trees, or only days as in flowers. In the human limbs there is the further power of varied movement, and in the countenance of varied expressions. The greatest art stamps a suggestion of this power of growth and movement into the form and line expressing the facts it records; and, making it harmonise graciously with perfect structure in nature, the great artist evolves a thing of beauty. In our northern climes, and in our modern civilisation, beauty of form and line excite little genuine emotion. That is reserved for colour, tone, texture, and, in these very latter days, for the cleverness of the executant.

The greatest opposer Leighton's teaching has had is laziness.

Students will not take the trouble to go through irksome labour to secure knowledge, therefore they only aim at those qualities which are made comparatively easy by an emotional preference; and such emotional preference is rarely excited by form. There are exceptions, such as Watts, whose greatest artistic emotion was excited when he seized the beauty and style in Pheidias. He felt also the same enthusiastic excitement over Leighton's studies, stamped with a like Pheidian quality of style. Because the modern eye is so often blind to these qualities, therefore Leighton's work has been disposed of by many as merely academical and the result solely of taking inordinate pains!

Surely those desirous of any true culture might learn one lesson at all events of Leighton: the value of Catholicity through learning "to master what they reject as fully as what they adopt ... the better motives of men" with whom they are not in sympathy. Catholicity is the outcome of the best natures, the best understandings, the best educations. It overrides those subtle egoisms and commercial interests which so often guide while distorting a true judgment in art matters, keeping the preferences of the public wriggling about without any definite instinct or princ.i.p.al on a never truly-convincing dead level.

The mainspring of catholicity in art is a fervent reverence for nature. All works in which such fervent reverence is found, in whatever direction it is displayed, are worthy to be admitted into the fold, whether it be form, colour, or tone in nature's aspect--whether it be the stirring whirls of northern tempests, the rural peace of English glades, or the fineness of rarefied atmosphere in the south, as in Greek isles and sea. Whichever mood of nature appeals to a true artist and inspires in him the sacred fire, and consequently the expression in his touch, should find a place in the heart of the true lover of art. Because the aesthetic pores of a music-lover are open to the rapturous tumult of the wildly whirling Schumann symphony in A minor, is he, therefore, incapable of being entranced by the rare refinement of Palestrina's cameo-like phrases? Because he feels a rapturous excitement as the curtain falls at the end of the first act of "Lohengrin," can he not also feel a soul-satisfaction in the elevated serenity of Bach's "Christmas Oratorio"? Does it not rather denote a want of elasticity in the aesthetic perceptions, a want of flexibility in the sensibilities flavouring somewhat of the Philistine, to be touched by a limited range of emotions? Because Leighton is not Whistler, or Watts is not Sargent, why must the one be admired at the expense of the other? With Leighton's rare intellectual ac.u.men he knew well that these limitations in viewing various outlooks on art arose chiefly from a want of wide culture and experience. In the great galleries of Europe, among the treasures in the churches of Italy, his own vision had been enlarged, and he had felt how nourishing to his own best instincts such enlargement had proved.

Hence his earnest endeavours when first entering the Academy to establish the Winter Exhibitions of Old Masters, and later, when President, to give as many facilities as possible for students to travel abroad. Probably, it never will be fully realised how greatly Leighton's initiations in starting new ventures for young students and artists have helped the real progress of English art. His great modesty and rare tact prevented this initiation from being fully appreciated even at the time. When such an one as Leighton is working on great lines, the last thing he thinks of is, Who is really achieving the work? The aim has to be accomplished; it matters little who is used as the tool to achieve the work. The real satisfaction to such a nature is the fact that the work _has_ been achieved.

Perhaps of all the ways in which Leighton helped to forward the condition of art in England, the most valuable was his industry in searching out unknown work, discovering what merit existed in it, hunting up the artist, and, by becoming personally acquainted with him, encouraging in every manner his onward progress. What he effected in Mason's case with such a rich harvest to the world as the result, he did in many other cases when the artist was a perfect stranger to him. Mr. Alfred East, the President of the Royal Society of British Artists, writes: "Lord Leighton was a man of broad sympathies in his appreciation of Art, an earnest worker with a lofty purpose and a high ideal. He liked to see these qualities in others, and spoke of the dignity and privilege of being an artist, and lived up to it in his own house. To those who knew him well he was singularly modest about his work, soliciting criticism with a frankness which was as unaffected as it was sincere. He never posed, but was a fellow-worker and a comrade. Such were the characteristics of the artist at home. I owe more to his encouragement than to any other influence of my life.

Our acquaintanceship grew into friendship; he helped me to speak to him as I could speak to no other, of my own aims and ideals. This is the great artist as I knew him."

Singularly chary of accepting favours or putting himself under any obligation where he did not feel certain he could requite it by any feeling or action of his own, the response Leighton's nature made when any person, thing, or place gave him delight was that of a spontaneous, unstinting grat.i.tude. Never did any one enjoy more fully the best of blessings--a grateful heart. Moreover, once the tender spot of pity touched, a self-ignoring energy of helpfulness and desire to benefit arose, which was at once the most beautiful and the least fully understood trait in his character. It is difficult for many to understand a _pa.s.sion_ for unselfishness. "We bear with resignation the sorrows of others," is one of the good sayings of Walter Bagehot. No rule without an exception--Leighton did not bear with resignation the sorrows of his friends, nor of those he pitied as overweighted and in any need of help which he could give. No better proof exists of the fineness, the distinction of a nature, or the reverse, than the effect which misfortune or suffering produces on it.

Pity with Leighton was ever allied with profound respect. He gave help as one indulging himself in a privilege rather than as one conferring a benefit. A beautiful story, for which I happen to be the best authority, is interwoven with the last years of his life.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "MEMORIES." 1883 By permission of Messrs. P. & D. Colnaghi, the owners of the Copyright]

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THE JEALOUSY OF SIMOETHA, THE SORCERESS." 1887]

[Ill.u.s.tration: "LETTY." 1884 By permission of Mrs. Henry Joachim]

One day, somewhere in the winter of 1879, on opening a gate which leads from our garden to the Holland Park Studios, I saw standing at one of the studio doors a figure which I described to Leighton as a "vision of beauty"--a young girl with a lovely white face, dressed in deepest black, evidently a model. Needless to say, Leighton, ever eager to procure good models, obtained her name from the artist to whom she was sitting when I first saw her, and engaged her as a model for the head. Shortly after she began to sit to Leighton, he wrote to me saying the young girl was in sad circ.u.mstances, and he would be very glad if I could help her by making some studies from her. I agreed, and he arranged with her to give me sittings. She told me that she had recently lost her mother, her father had deserted his family of five girls and two boys, and she with her elder brother were left to support them. She was endeavouring to act the part of mother to her younger sisters and brother. As Leighton and I grew to know her better we found her very intelligent and conscientious in acting this part, and she enlisted our sympathies entirely. She confided to me, while sitting one day, that she longed greatly to find something to do more interesting and remunerative than spending her days as a model. She thought she could act. I consulted Leighton. His first exclamation was, "_Impossible!_ with _that_ voice! How _could_ she go on the stage?" I thought the voice, which had a singularly unpleasant c.o.c.kney tw.a.n.g in it, might be trained, as I had observed how very eager she was to learn to speak in a more educated manner, quite realising her own shortcomings. Leighton came round to my opinion; and, once having made up his mind that she was bent on educating herself for the stage, showed himself as ever the most unselfish and untiring befriender.

Meanwhile four of these beautiful children became useful to him as models. From the second daughter, who afterwards married an artist, Leighton painted "Memories," reproduced here; from the third, Hetty, he painted "Simoetha the Sorceress" and "Farewell"; but it was the youngest, Lina, quite a small child, who delighted him most, and who had a rare, refined charm which must have captivated any child-lover.

She took the place of little Connie Gilchrist of the "Cleobouline,"

the "Music Lesson," and other of the earlier paintings, in the later pictures. She sat for "Sister's Kiss," "The Light of the Harem,"

"Letty," the sleeping group in "Cymon and Iphigenia," "Kittens," in the friezes "The Dance" and "Music," and "A little girl with golden hair and pale blue eyes"--

"Yellow and pale as ripened corn Which Autumn's kiss frees--grain from sheath Such was her hair, while her eyes beneath, Showed Spring's faint violets freshly born."

ROBERT BROWNING.

--also the child in "Captive Andromache." Of the sister-mother of this little family, beautiful as she was, Leighton declared he never could paint a successful likeness, notwithstanding his attempts in "Viola,"[75] "Bianca," "Serenely wandering in a trance of sober thought," and "Miss Dene." Her very beautiful throat, however, was reproduced worthily in many of his subject-pictures, and the true dramatic instinct she undoubtedly possessed enabled her to be of help in such pictures as "Antigone," "Return of Persephone," and the last picture, the pa.s.sionate "Clytie." But however useful she proved as a model, Leighton never for a moment thought of his own interests before the serious welfare of the young girl's life. He realised that if she was to make a successful actress, it involved serious and concentrated study. One morning I received the following note:--

DEAR MRS. BARRINGTON,--Miss Pullen will be very happy to sit to you on Monday, and will talk over the rest when you meet. You are very kind about it all, as is, indeed, your wont.

_P.S._--You see my hara.s.sed old head does sometimes remember what I promise.

[Ill.u.s.tration: STUDIES FROM DOROTHY DENE FOR "CLYTIE." 1895 Leighton House Collection]

And later:--

2 HOLLAND PARK ROAD, KENSINGTON, W.

DEAR MRS. BARRINGTON,--I want you to help me in a little conspiracy against (?) our young tragic friend. Mrs. Glyn frequently urges that she ought, at all events for a time, to give her _whole_ mind and being to the study of her art. I need not say I share that opinion, and I have at last, after infinite trouble and persistence (my _nose_, you know)[76] induced her to leave off sitting for a _month_, in the hope, if you will all help, of making it a _quarter_. This would, I am confident, be of the greatest value to her, giving her time also to read a little and concentrate her thoughts. I am quite prepared to give up painting from her for three months; but she is in mortal dread lest her other friends should think her unkind and ungrateful for their sympathy. I have told her I believe no such thing, and that I feel sure that Schmaltz and you (who work most from her) will, as willingly as I, postpone your studies in order to aid her in so important a matter. She is going to call on you to-day; if you agree with me, _be very firm_--have a _nose_! _Refuse_ to paint from her for three months.

We succeeded in making the little girl work exclusively at her acting, and Leighton, Watts, and I frequently visited the school where she was being trained under Mrs. Glyn, to hear her and her fellow-students perform the pieces they had studied. Eventually she appeared in London and in the provinces, and quickly communicated all her successes and failures to Leighton and to me. Constant notes pa.s.sed between us as we each received news from our young _protegee_, or when we thought some fresh step might be taken for her advantage. For instance, one of these notes runs as follows:--

DEAR MRS. BARRINGTON,--It has occurred to me that I perhaps seemed this morning what I certainly did not mean to seem, churlish in regard to that letter from Irving.[77] _If Miss Pullen is now ripe for him to hear her_--this is the most important point (for to go to him _too soon_ would be the most unwise thing possible in view of her getting a good engagement)--and if, having declined a letter on a previous occasion, she has any unnecessary scruple about now asking for one, it will be quite enough for you to tell me from her that she wishes for one, and I will at once write it. _Kemp will always be able to tell you where to get at me._ I can write as easily from Vienna or Constantinople as from here.

From Exeter Dorothy Dene wrote to Leighton after recounting an unwonted success:--

"Don't be frightened that I shall let all this praise turn my head. I know how much better it could be done, and after every scene a great weight falls on my heart that I have done no better. But I like you to warn me; it is good for me, so don't leave off, please. I am sorry that your friend, Lord Mount-Edgc.u.mbe, will not see me, and that you had the bother of writing for nothing. Please do not fash yourself about finding out any one else. I must leave off now, as it is time to go to the theatre, and you will not get this any sooner if it were posted to-night than to-morrow.

_Sunday, 24th._

"To continue, our lodgings are very comfortable, and nearly opposite the theatre; the food is good, and very fairly cooked, but I am very pleased with the tuck parcel; we had one of the birds when we arrived, the other things we have hardly touched.

I thought it better to save them for places where the food may be bad. Please send me Mr. B. Tree's letter. I thought as you think about its advice. Thank you so much for _your_ kind advice and gentle reminders, I shall try so hard to remember all you have said to me at different times; and if I do become anything in the future, I shall owe all the best part of it to you."

An engagement for two matinees was made for her debut in London.

"Dear Mrs. Barrington, 'Dorothy' acts at the _Globe_ on Monday and Tuesday afternoons," wrote Leighton; "I mean to go on Monday." I took a party of eight to see her, including the late Lord Lytton, who took much interest in the stage. After the performance Leighton wrote to me, "Poor Dorothy was paralysed with terror yesterday--but I hope intelligent people will have seen _through_ that." Again, later, "she is adding, as she deserves, to the number of her friends, several of whom treat her with really maternal kindness." I can indeed very truly endorse Leighton's good opinion. Dorothy and three of her sisters were worthy of all the interest shown in them. They were entirely self-respecting, conscientious children, most affectionately devoted to one another, and striving their utmost to improve in every sense, and make themselves worthy of the help they received. Naturally they adored their chief benefactor, Leighton. Unfortunately, Dorothy, notwithstanding dramatic gifts, great perseverance and intelligence, lacked charm on the stage. Her very beautiful face and throat were not seen to advantage, as they were hardly in proportion with her figure, which was short and too stiffly set to move gracefully on the stage.