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111688 



THE GREAT MASTERS IN PAINTING 
AND SCULPTURE. 

Edited by G. C. WILLIAMSON, LITT.D. 
Post Svo. 9 3-r. 6d. net each. 

BOTTICELLI. By A. STRBETER. 

BRUNELLESCHI. By LEADER SCOTT. 

CORREGGIO. By SELWVK BRINTON, M.A. 

CRIVELLI. By G. MCNEIL RUSHPORTH, M.A. 

BELLA ROBBIA. By the MARCHESA BURLAMACCHI. 

ANDREA DEL SARTO. By H. GUINNESS. 

DONATELLO. By HOPE REA, 

GERARD DOU. By W. MARTIN, Pb.D. 

GAUDENZIO FERRARI. By ETHEL HALSEY, 

FRANCIA. By GEORGE C. WILLIAMSON, Litt.D. 

GIORGIONE. By HERBERT COOK, M.A. 

GIOTTO. By F. MANSON PERKINS. 

FRANS HALS. By GERALD S. DAVIES, M.A. 

LUINI. By GEORGE C. WILLIAMSON, Litt.D. 

MANTEGNA. By MAUD CRUTTWELL. 

MEMLINC. By W. H. JAMES WEALE. 

MICHAEL ANGELO. By LORD RONALD SUTHERLAND GOWKR, F.S.A. 

PERUGINO. By GEORGE C. WILLIAMSON, LITT.D. 

PIERO DELIA FRANCESCA. By W. G. WATERS, M.A. 

PINTORICCHIO. By EVELYN MARCH PHII-LII-PS. 

RAPHAEL. By H. STRACHEY. 

REMBRANDT. By MALCOLM BELL. 

RUBENS. By HOPE RAE. 

SIGNORELLI. By MAUD CRUTTWKLL. 

SODOMA. By the CON TESSA LORENZO PRiULi-BoN. 

TINTORETTO. By J. B. STOUGHTON HOI.WORN, M.A. 

VAN DYCK. By LIONEL COST, M.V.O., F.S.A. 

VELASQUEZ. R. A. M. STEVENSON. 

LEONARDO DA VINCI, By EDWARD McCuRDY, M.A, 

WATTEAU. By EDGCUMBE STALEY, B.A. 

WILKIE. By LORD RONALD SUTHERLAND GOWBR, F.S.A. 



LONDON: G. BELL & SONS, LTD. 



VELASQUEZ 



BY 



R. A. M. STEVENSON 
* 




LONDON 

G. BELL & SONS, LTD. 
1912 



ig>oo, 



2906, IQIO, 



PREFATORY NOTE 

THE critical part of the matter in this volume has 
appeared before, in a more expensive form, under the 
title "The Art of Velasquez." The biographical infor- 
m^tion, however, which was limited then to a single 
paragraph, has been amplified, and now forms a separ- 
ate chapter. The Author has taken advantage of the 
opportunity to make a few verbal corrections, the time 
at his disposal not having allowed him to re-visit 
Madrid, as he had hoped to do. 

A list of the works of Velasquez, and a Bibliography, 
have been added by the Editor of the Series. It is not 
claimed that the list is in any sense complete ; nor has 
Dr Williamson attempted to be critical in his attribu- 
tions. He has simply recorded all the pictures attri- 
buted to Velasquez with which he is acquainted, adding 
such notes as are contained in catalogues or in his own 
note-books, and accepting the information supplied by 
the owners of the pictures. To the pages of the book 
he would refer the student for any scientific criticism or 
for authoritative statements as to the authenticity of 
disputed pictures. 



CONTENTS 



BIBLIOGRAPHY . . xiii 

Introduction THE IMPORTANCE OF VELASQUEZ IK 

THE HISTORY OF PAINTING . . i 

Chapter L His SURROUNDINGS IN SPAIN : HIS POSI- 
TION AT THE COURT OF PHILIP IV. . 4 

II. PERIODS OF HIS LIFE AND WORK . . 10 

III. COMPARISON BETWEEN THE THREE STAGES 

OF HIS ART 23 

IV. THE DIGNITY OF TECHNIQUE 34 
-^ V. THE COMPOSITION OF VELASQUEZ . . 42 
_. VI. His COLOUR 63 

VII. His MODELLING AND BRUSHWORK . 73 

VIII. NOTES ON SOME OF HIS PICTURES . 84 

IX. His RELATION TO OLDER ART . 94 

X. His INFLUENCE UPON RECENT ART 103 

XI. THE LESSON OF IMPRESSIONISM * * 113 

Appendix LIST or WORKS . 129 



Tfi 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

VAGB 

EQUESTRIAN PORTRAIT OF Dow BALTHAZAR CARLOS. 

(Prado.) Middle Period (Photogravure) frontispiece 
EL INFANTE DON CARLOS, (Prado.) Early Style . 4 
PHILIP IV. YOUNG. (Prado.) Early Style. Cirta 

1623-4 8 

DONA JUANA PACHECO. (Prado.) . . * 12 

DONA MARIA, DAUGHTER OF PHILIP III. (Prado.) 

Circa 1630 14 

DAUGHTER OF VELASQUEZ (SO-CALLED). (Prado.) 1626 16 
THE ADORATION OF THE MAGE (Prado) Early Style* 

1619 *o 

THE SURRENDER OF BREDA. (Prado.) Middle Period 24 
THE TOPERS. (Prado.) First Period. Date 1629 . 28 
LAS MENINAS, ALSO CALLED "LA FAMILLA." (Prado.) 

Late Style, 1656 ....... 32 

PHILIP IV. AS A SPORTSMAN. (Prado) Middle Period 36 
THE ADMIRAL ADRIAN PULIDO PAREJA. (National 

Gallery.) Middle Period, 1639 .... 40 
La RECONTE OR CONVERSATION. (Louvre.) Middle 

Period (?) 44 

PHILIP IV. ON HORSEBACK. (Prado.) Middle Period 46 
EL CONDE-DUQUE D'OLIVAREZ. (Prado*) Middle 

Period , t t , 4 s 

ix 



x LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

PACK 

THE DWARF "EL PRIMO." (Prado.) Middle Period, 

1644 5 

THE SCULPTOR MARTINEZ MONTAN&S, ONCE CALLED 

ALONSO CANO. (Prado.) Middle Period . . 54 
A BETROTHAL. (National Gallery.) Late Middle Style 58 
CHRIST AT THE PILLAR. (National Gallery.) Middle 

Period 60 

TIEW IN THE GARDEN OF THE VILLA MEDICI, ROME. 

(Prado.) Circa 1630 61 

VIEW IN THE GARDEN OF ARANJUEZ. (Prado.) Circa 

1630 . 64 

MERCURY AND ARGUE. (Prado.) Late Style (?). Middle 

Period (?) 68 

MOENIPPUS. (Prado.) Late Style 70 

THE CORONATION or THE VIRGIN. (Prado.) Late 

Period ......... 72 

THE FORGE OF VULCAN. (Prado.) Circa 1630 . . 74 

PABLILLOS DE VALLADOLID, CALLED A BUFFOON, AN 

ACTOR, AND A RHETOR. (Prado.) Middle Period 78 

THE CRUCIFIXION. (Prado.) Middle Period, 1639 * 80 

POPE INNOCENT X. (Hermitage,} Circa 1650 . , 8a 

^Bsopus. (Prado} Late Style 86 

MARIA TERESA. (Prado.) Late Period ... 90 

LAS HILANDERAS, OR THE SPINNERS. (Prado} Late 

Period ......,, 93 

THE DWARF, C< EL Niifo DE VALLBCAS," AN IDIOT, 
(Prado.) Middle Period (?) (Catalogue). Late Style 
(Justi) 94 

THE DWARF SEBASTIAN DE MORRA. (Prado} . t 96 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS xi 

PAGE 

CRISTOBAL DE PERNIA, CALLED "BABARROJA." (Prado.) 

Late Style 100 

MARIANA DE AUSTRIA, SECOND WIFE OF PHILIP IV. 

(Prado.) Late Style 102 

THE DWARF CALLED ANTONIO EL INGLESE. (Prado.) 

Late Style 106 

PHILIP IV. OLD. (National Gallery.) Late Style . no 
THE GOD MARS. (Prado.) Late Style . . .114 
ST ANTHONY VISITING ST PAUL, (frado.) Late Style 116 
LA INFANTA DONA MARGARITA MARIA. (Louvre.) Late 

Style. Circa 1659 118 

VENUS. Latest Period. Reproduced from the original 
painting by kind permission of Mrs Morritt, of 
Rokeby Park ........ 132 



BIBLIOGRAPHY 

AMADOR DE LOS Rios, DON Josl "Sevilla Pintosesca." 
Seville, 1844. 

ARANJO Y SANCHEZ, DON CEFERINO. "Los Museos de 
Espana." Madrid, 1875. 

ARMSTRONG, Sir WALTER. "Art and Life of Velasquez." 
1896. 

ASENSIO Y TOLEDO, DON Jos MARIA. " Francisco Pacheco ; 
sus obras Artisticas." Seville, 1867. 

BERUETE, A. DE. "Velasquez." Paris, 1898. 
BLANC, CHARLES. " Histoire des Peintres." Paris. 

BOSARTE. "Viage Artistico & varies Pueblos de Espana." 
Madrid, 1804. 

BURGER, W. " Tresor d' Art en Angleterre." Paris, 1865. 
BURGER, W. "Velasquez et ses CEuvres." Paris, 1865. 
CARDUCHO, VICENTE. "Dialogos de la Pintura. w Madrid, 



CEAN BERMXIDEZ, D. JUAN AGUSTIN. "Diccionario His- 
torico." Madrid, 1800. 

CRTOADA VILLAAMIL, DON GREGORIO. "Revista Europea 
Informaciones de las calidades de Velasquez.' 1 Madrid, 
1874. 

CXTMBERLAND. ** Anecdotes of Painters in Spain." London, 
1782. 

CURTIS, C. B, "Catalogue of the Works of Velasquez and 
Murillo." 1883* 
zfii 



xiv BIBLIOGRAPHY 

DAVILLIER, CH. "Memoire de Velasquez," Paris, 1874. 
EL ARTS EN ESPA&A. Madrid, i86a. 
FORD, RICHARD. " Handbook for Spain. 11 

FORD, RICHARD. "Paintings of Spain." In Quarterly^ June 

1848. 
GAUTIER,T. "Velasquez," "L'Artiste." March, 1868. 

GUELLEXTB, CHARLES. " Les Peintres Espagnols." Paris, 
1863. 

JUSTI, CARL. "Diego Velasquez und sein Jahrhundert." 
Bonn, 1889. 

JUSTI, CARL. " Velasquez and his Times. 19 Translated by 
Keane. 1889. 

LAWSON, E. KERR, "Catalogue of the Museo del Prado," 
Madrid, 1896. 

LBFORT, PAUL, in " Gazette des Beaux Arts," 1879-84. 

LEFORT, PAUL, "Velasquez," in "Artistes Cflfcbres" series. 
Paris. 

LUCKB, H. "Velasquez.* 

MADRAZO, DON PEDRO DE. "Catalogue of Prado." Madrid, 
1872. 

MADRAZO, DON PEDRO DE. u Viage Artistico de toes siglos pot 
las Colecciones de los reyes de Espafia." Barcelona, 1884, 

MADRAZO, DON PEDRO DE. "VdasqueV ''L'Art* NOIN 
ember and December 1878. 

PACHECO, FRANQSCO. "El Arte de la Pintura." Seville, 
1649. 

PALOMINO DE CASTRO T VELASCO^ DON ANtoma **B1 
Museo Pictorico y Escala Optict. w Madrid, 17x5. 



BIBLIOGRAPHY xv 

PASSAVANT. "Die Christliche Kunst in Spanien." Leipsic, 

1853- 
QUILLET. " Dictionnaire des Peintres, EspagnoL" Paris, 

1815. 

Ris, CLEMENT DE. "Le Mus6e de Madrid." Paris, 1859. 
STIRLING- MAXWELL, Sir W. "Velasquez and his Works." 

1855- 
STIRLING-MAXWELL, Sir W. " Annals of the Artists of 

Spain." London, 1848. 
STOWE, EDWIN. "Velasquez." 1895. 
VIARDOT, L. " Les Musses d' Espagne." Paris, 1860. 

ZARCO DEL VALLE, DON M. R. "Documentos ineditos para 
la Historia de las Bellas artes en Espana." Madrid, 1870. 



VELASQUEZ 



INTRODUCTION 

THE IMPORTANCE OF VELASQUEZ IN THE HISTORY 
OF PAINTING 

WHEN one speaks of Velasquez, it must be remem- 
bered that his influence upon art is still young. His 
genius slumbered for two hundred years, till the 
sympathy of one or two great artists broke the spell 
and showed us the true enchanter of realism, shaping 
himself from a cloud of misapprehension. The import- 
ance and the comparative novelty of the subject may 
excuse these few notes, taken during a visit to Madrid. 
For it will be allowed that Italy still draws the mass 
of picture-lovers. Hundreds of writers, sitting at home, 
direct the pilgrimages of thousands of travellers amidst 
the nicest details of Italian galleries. Every day sees 
some new book or paper on the Raphaelites, pre- 
Raphaelites, or Venetians. You enter the Uffizi of 
Florence or the Academy of Venice with a crowd 
who look at their books no less than at the pictures. 
The Prado of Madrid is almost your own ; a few 
students are there, and a stray traveller or two like 
yourself, but you may wander half a morning and see 
no other Englishman. The great gallery has not yet 
been described and criticised in English more than 
A 



2 VELASQUEZ 

it deserves. Now people like to attach a ready-made 
sentiment to a picture; they hate to form their own 
judgment, and to wait till a canvas speaks to them 
in its own language. .The true effect of art is slow. 
A picture is a quiet companion of your leisure, whose 
mood you learn to accept without heated controversy ; 
one of those quiet figures, in fact, who sit and smoke 
opposite you, till you seem to exchange thoughts with 
them by something like mental transference. If you 
must rush this intimacy in a public gallery, you should 
look at a picture as you would at a mesmeriser, with 
your head empty and all your life in your eyes. But 
the hurried visitor sins from over-eagerness. He is 
fluttered by anticipation of the many things to come, 
and will not abandon himself to what is actually before 
his eyes. He will not wait; he prefers to bustle up 
his acquaintance with a canvas by means of the formal 
introduction of some one whom he regards as an 
habitu6 of picture-galleries. 

The energy and eloquence of a Ruskin and the 
sympathetic comprehension of a Whistler or a Carolus- 
Duran are needed for Madrid. I do not pretend to 
have settled my own opinions about Velasquez, much 
less to set myself up as a guide, or to utter a final 
word upon such a subject Some one with time and 
opportunity, I hope, may take my notes into account, 
in a thorough investigation of Velasquez, from the 
point of view of modern art As yet few but painters 
enjoy Velasquez, or rightly estimate his true position 
in the history of art Not much is known about him. 
Contempt, not to say oblivion, fell on the man who 
preconceived the spirit of our own day. Amongst 
notable prophets of the new and true Rubens, 



INTRODUCTION 3 

Rembrandt, Claude he was the newest, and certainly 
the truest, from our point of view ; so new and so true, 
indeed, that two hundred years after he had shown 
the mystery of light as God made it, we still hear that 
Velasquez was a sordid soul who never saw beauty, 
a mere master of technique, wholly lacking in imagina- 
tion. So say those whose necks are stiff with looking 
at Italy and Raphael. Delacroix x complains of them, 
in his Letters, that they see beauty only in lines, and 
therefore refuse to believe that others may receive a 
different kind of impression. The opinion of these 
people is not to be controverted by words alone, and, 
as nature is a hard teacher, a student may save himself 
trouble by studying Velasquez at Madrid. A man 
of genius learns from a mere hint, it is true, and such 
an one without going farther than Paris or London 
may understand how Velasquez saw the world: a 
more ordinary eye, however, must take the Spaniard's 
greatness half on trust, if he has not seen Madrid. 
But with the best will in the world some eyes really 
cannot see the side of nature that Velasquez saw; 
while others are so bandaged by Italian prejudice that 
they may save themselves the trouble of a journey. 

1 **Ce femeux beau que les tins voient dans la ligne serpentine, les 
autres dans la ligne droite, ils se sont tous obstine* a ne le voir que dans 
les lignes. Je suis a ma fengtre et je vois le plus beau paysage : 1'idee 
d'une ligne ne me vient pas a 1' esprit,** 



CHAPTER I 

HIS SURROUNDINGS IN SPAIN : HIS POSITION AT THE 
COURT OF PHILIP IV. 

TRAVELLING in Spain, after all, is not so bad as many 
would have it Neither are the trains so slow and so 
dangerous, nor the food and wine so unpalatable, as 
they have been reported, while the approach to 'Madrid 
must take you through the scenery of Velasquez's 
pictures. This provides a fitting overture to the long 
array of his works which awaits you in the Prado. 
But in itself no country offers a more beautiful land- 
scape than Spain, and none that I have seen provides 
a more desirable setting for figures, horses, and other 
picturesque objects. No trivialities encumber the large 
structural features of this country. As in the fens, so 
here, a figure dominates. You see it on the dry, stony 
foregrounds of empty, rolling plains, which are ringed 
round with sharp, shapely sierras in the broad, blue 
distance. The landscape is unembarrassed with detail, 
but the one or two interesting forms with which it is 
furnished are at once simple and piquant A clear, 
delicate atmosphere, penetrated with a flood of light, 
softens every definition, and fuses every local tint with- 
out blotting it, as in our own foggy island. No local 
hue appears as if gummed like a wafer against the 
universal grey paper of everything that is not quite 
close at hand ; nor do the masses of objects look like 

4 




EL INFANTE DON CARLOS 



HIS SURROUNDINGS IN SPAIN 5 

thin, unmodelled side scenes against an obliterated 
distance. Things of the liveliest tint sink into the 
coloured whole, owning, by their lit side as by their 
shadowed, the federating power of real light Great 
parts of Spain resemble pictorially the plains and hills 
of the Maremma more than any other part of Italy. 
But the view, although as luminous and as coloured 
as in Italy, is usually less crowded and less excited, 
except for the active sport of clouds in this stormier 
region of Spain. Indeed, the country of Velasquez 
seems the very place in which to study values, in 
which to discover and to develop impressionism. On 
the way to Toledo I saw the sierras, just as Velasquez 
often painted them, of a powerful blue streaked with 
stretches of snow, and looking out from an agitated 
sky full of rifted clouds of a dirty white colour. For 
Spain is by no means always bright and gay, though 
always atmospheric and profound. 

In this country external nature favoured the painter 
both by landscape and by picturesque figure ; but the 
inner condition of the people scarcely answered the 
demands of the historian, who makes art flourish only 
with freedom and public enterprise. Where was the 
growing commerce, the expanding institutions, or the 
religious liberty in the shrinking, priest-ridden Spain 
of the seventeenth century? As Mr Whistler says, 
the growth of art is sporadic, and to affect the mind 
of one man it is not necessary to postulate the conflict 
of nations and all the mighty epoch-making machinery 
of history. Genius is concocted by the momentary 
accidental commerce of a man and woman, and fostered 
by a voyage, a visit, or communion with a half-dozen 
of friends. Commercial demand may encourage trade 



6 VELASQUEZ 

painting, and princely patronage palatial decoration; 
but who shall say what encourages genius that com- 
pound of original seeing, intellectual courage, and some 
gift or other of expression? 

Is it encouraging to be a portrait painter, to undergo 
the interested but ignorant criticism of the sitter, to 
disregard times and seasons, the disposition of the 
moment and the beckonings of the spirit, and to jump 
at no obstacle that you cannot clear in your habitual 
stride? Is it encouraging to live in a sinking country, 
and be the painter of a bigoted and fantastically 
ceremonious court? Yet, in spite of such poor en- 
couragement, Velasquez became the boldest arid most 
independent of painters. But is there no qualifying 
circumstance? May not the picture of this life be a 
transparency that changes when you hold it up to the 
light? Many old men, reared in the puritanical and 
hypocritical Edinburgh of the past, could tell you the 
private, reactionary effect of that life of repression 
and humbug upon a decent, genuine man. That you 
may not think at all, or act for yourself, is to add the 
very zest of piracy to experiment iu life and originality 
in thought. Where public profession is manifestly a 
lie, and public manners a formal exaggeration, life 
becomes a chest with a false bottom, which opens into 
a refuge for the kindlier, wiser, and more ardent among 
human beings. As much as Spain, the court, and the 
priest, asked of man in those days, so much you may 
be sure did the courageous individual repay himself 
in the freedom of private life, and in the audacity of 
private thought It is, perhaps, this instinct of reaction 
that causes the word licence to companion the word 
discipline in any historical account of an army. 



HIS SURROUNDINGS IN SPAIN 7 

Nothing, they say, was more intimate and freer than 
the private bearing of those nobles of the ancien rgime y 
who, nevertheless, stood at arms, so to speak, beneath 
the eye of the king on any public occasion. Delaunay, 
I remember, brought out this distinction of manners, 
when he played the part of Richelieu in Alexandre 
Dumas's "Mademoiselle de Belle Isle." 

To be a king of Spain, to preside at religious execu- 
tions, to have a wife whom no man, even to save her 
life, might touch on pain of death, was to be a creature 
sorely in need of private liberty, and the solace of con- 
fidential intercourse. Philip IV. seems to have been 
naturally kind, genial, and affable, and to have divided 
his leisure between the hunting-field and Velasquez's 
studio. The two, artist and king, grew old together, 
with like interests in horses, dogs, and painting ; thaw- 
ing when aloae into that easy familiarity between 
master and old servant, freezing instantly in public 
into the stiff positions that their parts in life required. 
Painter to the king when he was scarce twenty-five 
years old, Velasquez escaped most of the dangers and 
humiliations of professional portrait-painting, without 
losing its useful discipline of the eye, its rigorous test 
of the ever-present and exacting model. 

Though remote from Italy, from its living jealousies, 
and its overwhelming past, Velasquez was able to 
copy Italian pictures in the palaces of Spain, while 
he was permitted by the king's bounty to visit Rome 
and Venice as a person of some consequence. The 
situation favoured the growth of a genuinely personal 
way of looking at the world; and, indeed, no one 
was more original in his art than Velasquez, and no 
one less afraid of dispensing with traditional receipts 



8 VELASQUEZ 

for truth and beauty. He sought more and more to 
express the essential quality of his own eyesight, and 
he grew less and less dependent on hints derived from 
other people's practice. What he painted therefore 
concerned him less than how he painted. Like Rem- 
brandt, who never ceased to paint his own portrait, 
Velasquez studied one model, from youth to age, with 
unalterable patience and an ever-fresh inspiration. 
He could look at the king's well-known head with a 
renewed interest, as he went deeper into the mystery 
of eyesight, and became better informed as to the 
effects of real light His slow transformation of this 
face, through a hard realism of feature and detail, to 
the suavity of impressional beauty, seems comparable 
to that tireless climb of the Greek sculptors, through 
so many stiffly-studied athletes, to the breadth of 
Phidias's gods, or the suppleness of the serene 
Hermes of Praxiteles. Unrelaxing criticism of beauty 
distinguishes the highest order of artist alone; it 
comes from that thirst after perfection which kept the 
Greeks satisfied, artistic, even enthusiastic, whilst 
polishing for three hundred years the details and pro- 
portions of what we should call the same stale old 
style of architecture. Curious about particular sub- 
jects, but incapable of conceiving a general ideal of 
sight itself, meaner artists sicken at the apparently 
ordinary, or the apparently stale; and must be 
cockered up with the pride of lofty titles, and the 
conceit of novelty of motif, which they mistake for 
originality of view. On the other hand, those who 
constantly compare their work, not so much with de- 
corative traditions, as with the beauty they see in 
reality, keep their senses active, and scent, even in 




PHILIP iv (YOUNG) 



HIS SURROUNDINGS IN SPAIN 9 

the apparently commonplace subject, opportunity for 
the improvement which makes for perfection. 

The details of Velasquez's life, the dates, adventures, 
and disputed attributions of his pictures, can all be 
studied in the translation of Carl Justi's book. It is 
perhaps more amusing to take a turn round the 
Prado before you have read about Velasquez, before 
you have heard what picture is doubtful, and when 
each canvas was painted. One is apt to see too readily 
in a canvas what one has previously learnt in a book. 
If one has guessed the dates of pictures, and roughly 
grouped them into periods, upon no other evidence 
than the style of the work or the testimony of the 
subject, one really understands the growth of the 
painter's powers, and needs the historical document 
merely to correct trifling errors and to elucidate doubt- 
ful points. For this reason I passed two or three days 
in the galleries at Madrid without any book-knowledge 
of Velasquez, and without any catalogue. For those 
who have not much time the plan has its drawbacks. 
Knowing nothing of the painter's life, they may well 
overlook matters that have given rise to serious ques- 
tion. It will be well, therefore, to mention one or two 
significant dates and events in the painter's life, upon 
the authority of Carl Justi 



CHAPTER II 

PERIODS OF HIS LIFE AND WORK 

BY 1599, the year Velasquez was born, his native place 
Seville had reached the height of its fortunes, and was 
about to decline from its renowned position as "the 
capital of all the merchants in the world." The site 
was built upon by successive civilisations Moorish, 
Gothic, Renaissance ; so that Seville was truly both an 
" essentially Oriental city " and a " very Catholic city." 
At the end of the sixteenth century, its Catholicism, 
though paramount, allowed it to be called a "city of 
pleasure," the home of poetry and " Italian culture " 
a town whose Alcazar was named "The School of 
Love." The great painter's family was not of Sevillian 
origin ; his grandfather, Diego Rodriguez de Silva, 
came to Seville from Oporto, the home of the Silva 
family. His name, Velasquez, the painter took from 
his mother, who belonged to an old family of Sevillian 
hidalgos. Juan de Silva made no attempt to thwart 
his son's inclination towards painting, but about 1612 
he placed the boy with Francisco de Herrera (1576- 
1656), an architect 33 well as a painter of religious 
pictures, low- life and still-life. Dissatisfied with the 
rough temper of this master, Velasquez left him after 
about a year, and passed into the studio of Francisco 
Pacheco (1571-1654), where he remained for five years. 

10 



HIS LIFE AND WORK 11 

Pacheco was a careful and severe teacher of drawing 
as well as a pedant, a scholar, and the author of a 
work on painting. From his writings we gather much 
information concerning Velasquez, his friendships with 
artists, and his connection with great personages. 

Pacheco felt so satisfied with the birth, the industry, 
the talent of his pupil that he chose him for his son- 
in-law, and, on April 23, 1618, married him to his 
daughter, Juana de Miranda. Thus the good-will, the 
friends, the interest of Pacheco were placed henceforth 
at the service of his son-in-law. Among these friends 
were most of those who took any account of art and 
letters in Seville. An opportunity to use their kind offices 
soon occurred. Philip III. died on March 31, 1621; the 
young king, Philip IV., dismissed his father's minister, 
the Duke of Lerma, and gave his confidence to the 
Count Olivarez, a son of the governor of the Alcazar 
at Seville. Up to 1615 Olivarez had lived in Seville 
as a patron of poets and painters; when he became 
the new king's favourite, some Sevillian men of letters 
spoke to him of Pacheco's son-in-law. Velasquez went 
at once to Madrid, but it was not till his second visit 
in 1623, and only then after some delay, due to the 
arrival of Charles, Prince of Wales, and Buckingham, 
that Olivarez managed to get him a sitting for an 
equestrian portrait of the king. A bust in armour 
(Prado, 1071) must have been painted at the same 
time as the now lost equestrian portrait The likeness 
pleased, and its author, at twenty-four, received his 
appointment as Court painter to a king of eighteen. 
In this position Velasquez found himself associated 
with the Court .painters, Eugenio Caxesi, Carducho, 
Gonzales, and later on, Nardi. They were not well 



12 VELASQUEZ 

disposed towards a new-comer who speedily won the 
favour of their royal patrons and sitters. 

Philip IV. (1605-65) had two brothers Carlos 
(1607-32), and the Cardinal Ferdinand (1609- ). Of 
these Carlos was the stoutest, the most lively, and 
the least funereal in aspect ; Ferdinand, with the long 
face of a shrewd but human Scottish lawyer, the most 
capable and the most active in affairs, while in sport 
he was second only to the king, who deserved his 
reputation as the best rider in Spain. Year by year 
the royal brothers enjoyed more and more the days 
spent in private expeditions to the hunting-grounds 
about the Escurial, Toledo, and Aranjuez. These were 
informal parties, attended only by kindred spirits of 
whatever rank. The woods of El Pardo, much nearer 
the capital, were chosen for such great state functions 
as the "Boar Hunt," by Velasquez, in the National 
Gallery. The painter often accompanied the sports- 
men, and in the course of his life he made many 
sketches and pictures of hunting scenes and trophies 
of the chase, which for the most part are missing. 

Isabella de Bourbon (1602-1644), daughter of Henry 
IV. of France, and first wife of Philip, disliked sitting, 
and we only know one portrait of her that on a 
white horse (Prado, 1067). This picture is not alto- 
gether by Velasquez, who only worked on the face, 
the horse, and the landscape. Isabella was an able, as 
well as an amiable woman, but Olivarez gave her no 
chance to influence Philip. The king's temperament 
subjected him to female influence, and the minister, 
fearing the counsels of a wise wife, kept him well 
supplied with mistresses. Philip had three sisters, 
whom Velasquez painted. Anne of Austria, the eldest 




DONA JUANA PACHECO 

CALLED THE WIFE OF VELASQUEZ 



HIS LIFE AND WORK 13 

was the wife of Louis XIII. of France, and the be- 
loved of Buckingham ; Mary, who married Ferdinand 
of Hungary in 1629, had been much admired by 
Buckingham at the time of her betrothal to the Prince 
of Wales in 1623. Margaret, a nun in the order of 
Barefooted Carmelites, was painted by Rubens during 
his visit to Philip. 

From the beginning, Philip treated Velasquez in 
the most friendly manner coming, says Pacheco, 
to the studio "almost every day," by those secret 
passages hung with pictures, which led from the king's 
rooms to every part of the old Alcazar. The monotony 
of this life was broken in the autumn of 1628 by the 
arrival of Rubens (1577-1640), who for nine months 
was constantly with the king and Velasquez. At 
his earlier visit to Spain, in 1603, Rubens saw little 
of Spanish artists, and complained of their idleness, 
ignorance, and incompetency. According to Pacheco 
and others, he thought highly of Velasquez, and 
delighted in his society, while his view of the king 
appears in a letter to Peiresc : " He evidently takes 
quite a special pleasure in painting, and, in my opinion, 
this prince is endowed with the finest qualities. I 
already know him from personal intercourse, as I 
have a room in the palace, so that he almost daily 
visits me." 

Rubens worked hard during his stay in Spain, 
painting portraits and copying all the king's Titians. 
Of course Velasquez saw him at work, as it is on his 
authority that Pacheco gives a detailed list of all 
that Rubens did. Velasquez, moreover, accompanied 
Rubens to the Escurial, where they climbed the 
sierras and sketched bird's-eye views of the palace. 



I 4 VELASQUEZ 

It was after his nine months' friendship with Rubens, 
and, perhaps, owing to the influence of the Flemish 
painter upon the king, that Velasquez was permitted 
to undertake his first Italian voyage in the train of 
Spinola, the conqueror of Breda. This great soldier 
and statesman was going out as governor of Milan 
and comrnander-in-chief in Italy. The expedition left 
Barcelona on the loth August 1629. From Milan, 
Velasquez went to Venice, where, according to 
Palomino, painter to Philip V., he chiefly enjoyed the 
works of Titian, Tintoretto, and Paul Veronese. We 
know, from other sources, that Velasquez preferred 
Tintoretto before any painter ; indeed, we might guess 
this taste from his own pictures, even if we had not 
the criticisms of Francisco de los Santos on Tintoretto's 
work in the Escurial criticisms which were inspired 
by Velasquez, if not entirely borrowed from the 
Memoria or catalogue drawn up by Philip's painter 
when he arranged the gallery. Velasquez avoided 
Florence, and went straight to Rome ; he copied for 
some time in the Vatican, and he spent two months 
at the Villa Medici, which he was obliged to leave 
on account of a tertian ague. From Rome he passed 
on to Naples, where he saw, and apparently liked, 
his countryman, Ribera. In the early part of 1631 
he returned to Spain, bringing with him a portrait 
of the king's sister, Mary of Hungary, which he had 
painted in Naples, also two figure-subjects, "The 
Forge of Vulcan" and "Joseph's Coat" 

This journey to Italy ends the first part of the 
painter's life. The long second period, which began 
on his return, was closed by another visit to Italy 
in the year 1649. Justi says that the first half of 




DONA MARIA 

DAUGHTER OF PHILIP III 



HIS LIFE AND WORK 15 

this period was "probably the happiest experienced 
both by Philip and Velasquez." Still, it is true that 
in 1632 Don Carlos died, and Philip lost his younger 
brother, the Cardinal Ferdinand, who left Spain to 
undertake the government of Flanders. Here the 
cardinal acted with his usual activity as his brother's 
agent, not only in politics but in picture-buying. He 
made use of Rubens and his pupils to paint or to 
procure the numerous canvases which Philip required. 
The new palace, Buen Retiro, on the heights above 
the Prado, had been presented to the king by Olivarez. 
This must be decorated, and, later on, the Escurial 
and the Torre de la Parada a hunting-lodge in the 
woods near El Pardo. To this work the Court painters 
now set themselves, with Velasquez at their head. 
For this end he produced his "Surrender of Breda," 
and his large equestrian portraits; and for this end 
Caxesi, following the lead of Velasquez, painted 
"The Repulse of the English at Cadiz" (Prado, 697). 
Velasquez was now the unquestioned head of the 
Spanish painters. He had already beaten them all 
in a competition on the subject of " The Expulsion of 
the Moriscoes by Philip III/ 1 

The painter was now Introduced to a new sitter, 
the king's little son, Balthasar-Carlos, who was born 
in 1629, the same year as the illegitimate Don Juan 
of Austria. In 1638 the Royal Family was further 
increased by the birth of a daughter, Maria Teresa. 
Then troubles came thicker upon the court After a 
career of mismanagement, Olivarez was disgraced in 
1643, and the Queen Isabella, who had regained her 
influence over the king, died in 1644. In 1643 those 
invincible lances of Spain, which figure in "the sur- 



16 VELASQUEZ 

render of Breda," were utterly crumpled up by the 
great Cond6 at Rocroi. After the fall of Olivarez, 
Philip exerted himself and went in person to the per- 
petual war which the French fomented in Catalonia. 
In 1644 Velasquez accompanied him, and executed, 
at Fraga, on the borders of Aragon and Catalonia, 
the most coloured of his portraits of the king. 
Opinions differ as to whether the Dulwich picture 
may be the original or a copy of this work. The 
heaviest blow of all now fell upon Philip ; his pro- 
mising son, Balthasar, caught a cold at Saragossa, 
and died in 1646. 

During this middle period, various people of note 
visited Madrid, and were painted by Velasquez; 
amongst others, in 1638, Madame de Chevreuse, first 
the friend and then the enemy of Anne of Austria. 
Her visit was immediately followed by that of the 
Duke of Modena, a great hunter, much beloved by 
Philip. But the favours of a friend and a sovereign 
whose power was declining could not long keep the 
astute Duke from a French alliance. 

During 1634 Velasquez married his daughter Fran- 
cisca to his pupil, J. B. del Mazo. About 1641-2, his 
still more illustrious pupil, Murillo (1618-82), came 
from Seville, and spent two years under the guidance 
of the master, who completely altered his views, and 
turned him for a time to the serious study of nature. 
Velasquez also renewed his friendship with certain 
fellow-artists who were employed by the king about 
this time. Alonzo Cano, Herrera, Zurbaran, the 
sculptor, Martinez Montaftz, his old Sevillian friends, 
were probably called to the capital on the suggestion 
of the Court painter. Velasquez painted Montaftfe 




THE SO-CALLED 
"DAUGHTER OF VELASQUEZ" 



HIS i-iJb^Ji AND WORK 17 

in 1636; Cano, probably, before his conviction 
for the supposed murder of his wife ; and the 
satirist, Quevedo, certainly before his imprisonment 
in 1639. 

Velasquez left Malaga for Italy on 2nd January 
1649, landed at Genoa, pushed rapidly through Milan, 
only stopping to look again at Leonardo's "Last 
Supper," and made for Venice, to buy pictures for 
Philip. At Venice he made the acquaintance of the 
poet, Boschini, who tells us that, although not very 
lucky in his search for pictures, Velasquez, to his 
delight, secured a finished sketch by Tintoretto for 
the great picture still in the Ducal Palace. At 
Naples, Velasquez revisited Ribera, whom he found 
much affected by the elopement of his daughter with 
Don Juan of Austria, who had seduced her when he was 
sent by Philip to quell the revolt of Masaniello. In 
Rome, Velasquez met many artists of note, Salvator 
Rosa, Bernini, Algardi, Nicolas Poussin, amongst the 
number. He had the honour of painting Innocent X. 
in his robes, a task which he did not undertake till he 
had practised on a portrait of his studio-fag the Moor 
Juan de Pareja himself a painter. These two portraits 
may be said to stand between the second and third 
manners. 

In the summer of 1651 Velasquez was again at 
Madrid. He became more than ever necessary to the 
king, and honours fell thick upon him during this final 
period of his life and art He was made Marshal of 
the Palace, an office of considerable honour, and, at 
times, of no little trouble. He had to arrange the 
royal journeys, court festivities, and tournaments. As 
Philip, in 1649, had married a second wife his own 
B 



i8 VELASQUEZ 

niece, Mariana of Austria, a girl of fourteen the court 
was more lively than when Velasquez left it, and he 
had a good deal to do with painting, festivity, and 
the arrangement and decoration of the various palaces. 
By his second wife, Philip had the Princess Margaret, 
born 1651, the centre figure of "Las Meninas"; Philip 
Prosper (1657-60) ; Ferdinand Thomas (1658-60) ; and 
his successor, Carlos II. (1661-1700), the last of the 
house. 

In 1659 Cardinal Mazarin brought about a marriage 
between Maria Teresa and his young master, Louis 
XIV. of France. The marriage took place on June 7th, 
the two courts meeting at the Isle of Pheasants, in 
the river which marks the frontier between France 
and Spain. The tedious journey, the imposing cere- 
monies, threw a great deal of work on the shoulders of 
the Court-Marshal, and, a few weeks after his return 
to the capital, Velasquez died, on the 6th August 
1660. 

In his latest pictures Velasquez seems to owe as 
little as any man may to the example of earlier 
painters. But, indeed, from the beginning he was a 
realist, and one whose Ideal of art was to use his own 
eyes. His early pictures cannot be attached surely to 
any school ; they are of doubtful parentage, though, 
with some truth, one might affiliate them to Caravaggio 
and the Italian naturalists. From the first, he shows 
sensitiveness to form, and a taste for solid and direct 
painting. He quickly learnt to model with surprising 
justness, but for a long time he continued to treat a 
head in a group as he would if he saw it alone. Only 
slowly he learnt to take the impression of a while 
scene as the true motif of a picture. In his early 



HIS LIFE AND WORK 19 

work he faithfully observed the relations between bits 
of his subject, but not always the relation of each bit 
to the whole. If we compare the realistic work of 
the young Velasquez with the pictures of the great 
Venetians, we shall find it lacking their comfortable 
unity of aspect That aspect may have been more 
remote in its relation to nature, but it was certainly 
ampler and more decoratively beautiful. Up to the 
age of thirty, indeed, Velasquez seemed content to 
mature quietly his powers of execution, without seek- 
ing to alter his style, or to improve the quality of his 
realism. Had he died during his first visit to Rome, 
it might have been supposed, without absurdity, that 
he had said his last word, and that, young as he was, 
he had lived to see his art fully ripened. It would be 
difficult, indeed, to do anything finer, with piecemeal 
realism for an ideal, than the later works of this first 
period. Pictures of the pre- Italian epoch are "The 
Water Carrier" (Apsley House), "The Adoration of 
the Magi" (Prado, 1054), "The Shepherds" (National 
Gallery), "Bust of Philip in Armour" (Prado, 1071), 
full-length, "Philip in Black" (Prado, 1070), "Philip" 
(young, National Gallery), and "The Topers" (Prado, 
1058). "The Forge of Vulcan" (Prado, 1059) was 
painted at Rome on the visit which initiated the 
second manner. 

The conversation and example of Rubens, the study 
of Italian galleries, as well as the practice of palatial 
decoration at Buen Retiro, gave a decorative character 
to the art of Velasquez in the second period. One 
tastes a flavour of Venetian art in the subject-pictures, 
and one remarks something bold, summary, and less 
intimate than usual, about the portraiture of this 



20 VELASQUEZ 

time. As examples we may take "The Surrender of 
Breda " (Prado, 1060), "The Boar Hunt" (National 
Gallery), "The Crucifixion" (Prado, 1055), "Christ at 
the Pillar" (National Gallery), "Prince Ferdinand," 
with dog, gun, and landscape background (Prado, 1075), 
"The King as a Sportsman" (Prado, 1074), "Don 
Balthasar and Dogs" (Prado, 1076), the large eques- 
trian "Philip IV." (Prado, 1066), the equestrian "Don 
Balthasar" (Prado, 1068), the equestrian "Olivares" 
(Prado, 1069), "The Sculptor Montaitez" (Prado, 1091), 
"The Admiral Pulido" (National Gallery), various 
landscapes, and a few studies such as "The Riding 
School" (Apsley House) and its variations. During 
these twenty years, if ever, Velasquez relaxed his 
effort at naturalism, not that he slackened his grip 
upon form, but that he seems to have accepted in 
Italy the necessity for professional picture - making. 
His colours became a shade more positive or less 
bathed in light, and his unity to some extent an 
adopted decorative convention. 

Upon his return from the second voyage, as if he 
had satisfied himself that Venetian art could not 
wholly render his manner of seeing, and that, at any 
rate, he had pushed it, in "The Surrender of Breda," 
as far as it could go, he comes about once more and 
seeks for dignity and unity in the report of his own 
eyes. In fact, he adds the charm that we call im- 
pressionism to such work of the third period as 
" Innocent the Tenth," done in Rome, " Queen Mariana" 
(Prado, 1078), "Las Meninas" (Prado, 1062), "Las 
Hilanderas" (Prado, 1061), ^Esop w (Prado, uoo), 
"Moenippus" (Prado, noi), the so-called "Maria 
Teresa" (Prado, 1084), "Philip IV," (Prado, i O 8o), 




THE ADORATION OF THE MAGI 



HIS LIFE AND WORK 21 

"Philip IV: Old" (National Gallery), and some of 
the Dwarfs and Imbeciles in the Prado. 

Some sojourn in the deadly capital of Spain is 
necessary if one would know the variety of Velasquez, 
and learn how often he forestalled the discoveries of 
recent schools of painting. Various stages of his 
growth, as shown in the Prado, remind us of various 
stages in the progress of modern naturalism. Sudden 
gusts of his fancy for some type or some quality in 
nature ally this or that canvas by Velasquez with the 
work of a man or a movement in our century. The 
names of Regnault, Manet, Carolus-Duran, Henner, 
Whistler, and Sargent, rise to one's lips at every turn 
in the Prado ; one thinks, but less inevitably, of Corot, 
when one sees the landscape of Velasquez. His early 
work recalls John Philip and Wilkie, while the girl 
in " Las Hilanderas " should be the very ideal of art 
to the Pinwell, Walker, and Macbeth school. Except 
the "Venus" belonging to Mr R. Morritt of Rokeby 
Hall, the Prado lacks no picture essential to the full 
understanding of the painter's art No other collec- 
tion can give a just conception of the great works 
in Madrid. To see only the National Gallery, the 
Louvre, and the various private collections in England, 
leaves one without an adequate idea of the equestrian 
portraits, "Philip IV." (1066), "Olivares" (1069), and 
"Don Balthasar" (1068); "The Surrender of Breda" 
(1060), "The Sculptor Martinez Montaft&z" (1091), 
"Moenippus" (1101), "^Esop" (uoo), the "Maria 
Teresa" (1084), "Las Meninas" (1062), "Las Hil- 
anderas" (1061), and the series of Dwarfs and 
Imbeciles. 

These pictures have changed very little; but, as 



22 VELASQUEZ 

with all old pigment, a good light is necessary to 
show the subtlety of the values and the expressive 
character of the subdued or suggested detail. 
Fortunately the light is excellent in the two chief 
galleries of the Prado, which contain the principal 
pictures. The first, a long room, wider than the 
long gallery of the Louvre, is covered with a barrel- 
ceiling. About half-way down on the left, a door 
opens into the other room, a large, well-lit octagon. 
Several large side-lit rooms with dark corners, try 
the eyes, and baffle efforts at comparison ; fortu- 
nately, however, they contain for the most part 
inferior pictures, the works of predecessors of 
Velasquez, and a few early canvases by the Master 
himself 



CHAPTER III 

COMPARISON BETWEEN THE THREE STAGES OF HIS ART 

TRUSTING to report, and to the evidence of repro- 
ductions, I expected to find "The Surrender of 
Breda" (1060) the finest Velasquez in the Prado. 
So I might have thought, if the painter's natural 
gift had been less explicitly set forth, if he had 
never lived to paint "Las Meninas," "The Spinners," 
";Esop," "Moenippus/' and "Maria Teresa" (1084, 
Prado). To some minds it is easier, and it is 
always quicker, to excel on the lines of older 
decorative conventions, than to start a new one on 
the expression of a personal view of beauty. From 
his early standpoint of the realistic painter, Velas* 
quez first mounted to the position of great artist 
by excelling in the traditional cult of beauty; and 
it was only towards the end of his life that he 
divined a new art in the practice of personal im- 
pressionism. "The Surrender of Breda" challenges 
the greatest masters on their own ground ; it is 
unworthy neither of them nor of Velasquez, but for 
that very reason it is not the complete expression 
of the Velasquez eyesight It was painted when he 
was scarce forty, and as an ornamental panel in- 
tended to co-operate with other historical works in 
the decoration of the Salon de los Reinos of the 



24 VELASQUEZ 

Buen Retire. Decoration hardly demands or permits 
of quick evolution or sudden novelty, and though 
the irrepressible originality of the man still appears, 
it is evident that Velasquez wisely attempted to 
follow the lead of his favourite Venetian masters in 
the execution of this task. And certainly he has 
succeeded, for the picture might be hung in the 
Ducal Palace at Venice. But to realise such an 
ambition was by-play, and not the work of Velas- 
quez's life. 

If you would compare a realism, ennobled though 
somewhat chastened by grand decorative treatment, 
with a realism not only exalted but intensified by 
the artistic principles of impressionism, you have a 
fine opportunity at the Prado. When you enter 
the long gallery from the street, walk down it some 
way; on the right, before you reach the Octagon 
Room, you will see "The Surrender of Breda," and 
facing it "Las Meninas," a work of the painter's 
later life. "The Surrender of Breda" you may 
admire according to your nature; you may even 
consider it the better picture, but by no means, as 
is "Las Meninas," an absolutely unique thing in the 
history of art 

As one views from a central standpoint the start 
and finish of a race, so, from "The Surrender of 
Breda," the masterpiece of his middle life, you may 
look backwards and forwards, upon the early and 
upon the late Velasquez. It will not be forgotten that 
"The Surrender of Breda" was painted between the 
two voyages to Italy. As might be expected, it 
agrees in many points with other canvases painted 
during that period in which Velasquez was so much 



THE THREE STAGES OF HIS ART 25 

occupied with palatial decoration. By its size, by 
its freedom of touch, by the variety and warmth of 
its colours, by the complexity of its pattern, by its 
dark foreground browns, by the quality of its blue 
distances, it is allied to the large equestrian por- 
traits, the hunting scenes and hunting portraits of 
this period. Nor in its vigour of brushing, and its 
force of positive colour, is it altogether unlike the 
"Admiral Pulido" of our National Gallery and 
"The Sculptor Montaftes" of the Prado (1091). 
The Admiral indeed is so unlike any portrait by 
Velasquez that some have doubted its authenticity, 
but it is very like the figures in " The Surrender 
of Breda." 

It is difficult to conceive that this great subject 
could be treated less conventionally without some loss 
of interest and dignity. No more than Veronese or 
Rubens, could Velasquez combine decorative splendour 
and historical clearness with the subtle mysteries of 
real tone and the impressionistic unity that lift truth 
into poetry. In other words, this kind of subject was 
unfitted to bring out the more original and characteristic 
qualities of Velasquez's genius. Subjects, however 
grand in title and dignified in historical association, 
are valuable to the painter in proportion as they give 
him a pretext for making the most of what is beautiful 
in his own art No subject in itself can make or mar 
art; subject is indifferent except for its favourable 
or unfavourable effect on the artist Even the record 
of a seen thing produces a noble or ignoble effect 
according as it records a grand or a trivial manner of 
using the eyesight, according as it shows a mean 
anxiety about details, petty circumstance and wiry 



26 VELASQUEZ 

pattern, or reveals sympathy with large shapes, subtle 
nuancing, or lovely qualities of paint. Let a bad 
painter call a figure by the name of what God he 
will, and carefully accompany it with sacred symbols, 
yet, if the forms are poor or ill-disposed, the figure 
remains a mean one, and less grand than the study 
of some street porter that is fuller of the mystery of 
fine seeing and the emotions of a higher view of form. 
Remember, too, that what we call subject in painting 
imports still less than what we call subject in literature. 
This figure of the God and that of the street porter 
differ in title rather than in subject, for after all, the 
same model or true pictorial subject may have sat 
for both, and it is surely the grandeur of treatment, 
not the mere addition of symbols, accessories, and 
titles, that should make an essential difference between 
the two works. 

It was perhaps, then, rather the purpose than the 
subject of " The Surrender of Breda " which modified 
the art of Velasquez, and made it akin to the work of 
a Venetian. The canvas was to serve as a decorative 
panel, a thing to be looked at as one looks at a piece 
of tapestry ; hence, doubtless, its decorative flatness, its 
variety of colours, its blue foundation, its brown fore- 
ground, and its block-like pattern of huge chunks of 
black and white and orange. It was scarcely the 
business of Velasquez to compact this broad but 
arbitrary illustration, explanatory of crowds and 
costumes in a given situation, to adjust all this 
coloured accessory, to plant this hedge of pikes and 
lances against the distant landscape, to engineer the 
foreground so that the legs and their enclosed spaces 
might appear neither too distracting nor too utterly 



THE THREE STAGES OF HIS ART 27 

unlike the truth, to give some sense of space and 
distance but to give it gingerly, so as to bridge the 
great gulf between the main group and its back- 
ground. 

Yet how admirably it is done. Compare its stately 
figures with the coarse, dumpy men in "The Repulse 
of the English at Cadiz," by Eugenio Caxesi. Caxesi 
follows his colleague Velasquez in his idea of colour, 
and in his view of the contending claims of open-air 
effect, decorative unity and historical fulness. But his 
reliefs are hard and even, his blocks of colour unfused, 
his drawing clumsy, and his whole picture duller, more 
spotty, and less arranged than "The Surrender of 
Breda." In colouring, in suavity of effect, that great 
Velasquez compares with any Titian. Its principal 
figures stand with as noble a bearing as any in painting. 
Spinola and Justin meet each other with gestures so 
poignant in expression, that they almost compel the 
nerves to involuntary imitation. Something of this 
dramatic aptness of gesture enlivens the series of large 
decorative panels which Rubens painted for the Luxem* 
bourg Palace. But the figures in the "Reception of 
Marie de Medicis" abound in courtliness and pomp, 
while the conqueror and the conquered of Breda, with 
a more human though a decently ceremonious stateli- 
ness, act out two of the most trying circumstances of 
life. The figures form the knot of an admirable com- 
position, but this central interest is rather prepared 
by studied artifice than made important by the effect 
of a focussed impression. Hence one is able to look 
at "The Surrender of Breda" and imagine the centre 
cut out, and yet the chief sentiments of the picture 
preserved. The dignity of the two figures would be 



28 VELASQUEZ 

scarcely impaired by the omission of surroundings 
which, however well put in, yet exist for the purposes 
of illustrative and decorative arrangement 

Turn now to " Las Meninas," on the opposite wall. 
What a rounded vision swims in upon your eye, and 
occupies all the nervous force of the brain, all the 
effort of sight upon a single complete visual impression. 
One may look long before it crosses one's mind to 
think of any colour scheme, of tints arbitrarily con- 
trasted or harmonised, of masses balanced, of lines 
opposed or cunningly interwoven, of any of the tricks 
of the metier, however high and masterlike. The art 
of this thing, for it is full of art, is done for the 
first time, and so neither formal nor traditional. The 
admiration this picture raises is akin to the excitement 
caused by natural beauty; thought is suspended by 
something alike yet different from the enchantment 
of reality. This is not the reality obtained by the pre- 
Raphaelite exploration of nature, which builds up a 
scene bit by bit, like the map of a new continent 
The pre-Raphaelite painter realises the result of his 
separate observations no more than a geographer 
engaged on the survey of an unknown coast He 
will not conceive of his picture as a big pattern which 
produces detail; he compiles a great many separate 
details, and accepts, though he has not designed, the 
ensemble which they happen to produce. Now the 
ensemble of "Las Meninas" has been perceived in 
some high mood of impressionability, and has been 
imaginatively kept in view during the course of after- 
study. The realism of this picture is a revelation of 
the way the race has felt a scene of the kind during 
thou3ands of years. The unconscious habit of the 




C/I 

e 

O 



THE THREE STAGES OF HIS ART 29 

eye, in estimating the relative importance of colours, 
forms, definitions, masses, sparkles, is revealed to us 
by the unequalled sensitiveness of this man's eyesight. 

From our present point of view "The Topers" is 
even less real than "The Surrender of Breda." It 
belongs to a lower order of generalisation. The mind 
that conceived it failed to grasp it except by successive 
acts of imagination. Its parts obey a purely formal 
instead of an impressional unity. The composition 
was, of course, designed to make a single pattern as 
to lines and masses, but the scene, with its modelling, 
colouring, atmosphere, and definitions, was never beheld 
as a whole vision in the mind's eye. Velasquez rose, 
I think, in " The Surrender of Breda," to a higher art 
than he had dreamed of before he went to Italy. He 
reached at least a decorative unity, though doubtless in 
so doing he sacrificed the poignancy of " The Topers," 
which is due to a succession of climaxes. Each head 
is as strong as the best pair of eyes in the world could 
make it If you can call it the highest art to take a 
number of powerfully - studied heads and sew them 
together to make a group, then "The Topers" is as 
fine a picture as you want But the unity of a work 
of art should be organic and pervasive, like the blood 
in a man's veins, which is carried down to his very 
toes. 

As an art grows, everything that enters it becomes 
absorbed more and more into its constitution, and 
becomes a feature in a living organic unity. With 
the growth of music, composers felt the need of a 
more logical principle of unity, than a mere succession 
of separate phrases and climaxes ; and as painting 
developed, painters began to comprehend other and 



30 VELASQUEZ 

more vital means of picture -making than the use of 
compelling lines and a formal composition. They had 
learnt that strong points in a picture kill each other, 
and that force in art is an affair of relation. They 
were to learn that there is a realistic as well as a 
decorative meaning in different breadths of treatment 
The relative space and finish which a nose might 
arrogate to itself in a single head, must suffice for a 
whole face in a figure group, if due proportion and a 
reasonable width of view are to be preserved. A can- 
vas should express a human outlook upon the world, 
and so it should represent an area possible to the 
attention; that is, it should subtend an angle of vision 
confined to certain natural limits of expansion. Now, 
to group two or more studies of figures in order to fill 
a larger canvas, either commits the painter to a wider 
angle of vision, and consequently a more distributed 
attention, or else it compels him to paint his group as 
if it were removed from him far enough to subtend 
only the same angle as the single figure of one of his 
previous studies. Let him choose either alternative, 
and either way a difference of treatment is forced upon 
him. This is a point which demands serious study on 
the realistic grounds of perspective, modelling, colour, 
and definition; but for the present it is sufficient to 
settle it upon the merely decorative ground of com- 
plexity of pattern. If a certain proportion of cutting 
up recommends itself as beautiful and effective in any 
one sketch or study, then unquestionably a compilation 
of such studies must be a false method of composing 
a large canvas. The large canvas should not express 
a larger angle of sight than the small one. In a word, 
the cutting up of a canvas beaars a ratio to the size of 



THE THREE STAGES OF HIS ART 31 

the canvas, and not to the square foot of space. So 
that you may enlarge a one-foot sketch, but you may 
not compile nine one-foot studies to make a three-foot 
picture. Whether you compile actual separate sketches 
on one canvas, or merely paint parts of that canvas 
under different impressions, the fault is the same. 

If there is anything in this unity of impression, 
"The Topers" is not the best picture in the world. 
We may point to its prevailing tone of chocolate, and 
its hard, staring, too equal force of definition, both 
faults the result of compiled observations. Certainly, 
each head is a marvel of handling, of modelling, of 
character, but has this handling or this modelling any 
beautiful dependence on a great impression, or, as in 
"Las Meninas," any relation to the whole view em- 
braced by the eye? On the contrary, one of those 
family arrangements in which several heads are sepa- 
rated by beadings, almost equally deserves the name 
of a picture. A Dutch portrait group, at any rate, 
claims quite an equal rank in the hierarchy of art 
Rembrandt's "Anatomy Lesson," Hals's and Van der 
Heist's figure groups, are on the same plane of realism, 
although some of them may be less powerfully executed 
than " The Topers/' 

Only a large mind takes a large view of a subject, 
and not without effort, too, whether the matter in ques- 
tion concerns art, philosophy, or practical life. For 
instance, the ordinary amateur of music likes short 
phrasing and a jerky emphasis, which makes the most 
of every accent, while the ordinary connoisseur com- 
prehends and relishes the cheaper realism of the Dutch 
masters, but cannot easily grasp the broader truths of 
Velasquez. Small facts, shown by hard detail and 



32 VELASQUEZ 

strong, frequent contrast, are more easily perceived 
than the action of a principle which governs a whole 
scene. To many the finesse of Velasquez seems weak- 
ness, his atmosphere poor colour, his sense of natural 
arrangement, bad composition. These admirers of the 
Dutch realists would doubly admire Velasquez, if they 
could learn to see that he was not only cleverer but 
more sincere than Terburg, Metzu, Gerard Dow, Nicolas 
Maas, or Van Ostade. These connoisseurs may not 
question the beauty of reality or the dignity of tech- 
nique, but the first they assimilate only in little pieces, 
while they perceive only the immediate issues of the 
second. Quite another objector to Velasquez is the 
man who says, " What greatness is there in portraiture, 
and in the painting of common life, what can there 
be beyond 'mere technique'?" For the moment we 
may bid him look again at the exquisite human feeling 
of "Las Meninas." Could the gracious attitudes of 
these bending maids, the calm born pride of the Infanta, 
the solemn gravity of the environment, speak more 
eloquently to us if this were an Adoration of some- 
body by an early and religious Italian? No, truly; 
but the mind of the literary objector, which will not 
obey the suggestion of paint, would then find itself, 
under the more familiar impulsion of words, running 
in an accustomed rut Indeed, there is nothing lost 
in " Las Meninas " of the natural forms, profound ex- 
pression, and beautiful human sentiment of the Italian 
pre-Raphaelites, while everything is gained in the way 
of a natural mystery of light, a true impressional 
unity of aspect, and a splendid perfection of technical 
resources. Nothing that art has ever won is wanting 
here unless it, be composition by line, the charm of 




LAS MENINAS 



THE THREE STAGES OF HIS ART 33 

the nude figure, and the rhythmic swirl of Raphael's 
drawing. No great man is separable from his tech- 
nique, and the difference between two great men lies 
largely in a difference of technique, for technique is 
truly the language of the eye. So that it may not be 
amiss now to speak of the technique of Velasquez that 
is to say, of his composition, modelling, colour, and 
handling. We have already compared three of his 
pictures, " The Topers," a work of youth ; " The Sur- 
render of Breda," a work of middle age ; and " Las 
Meninas," painted near the end of his life. In examin- 
ing the technique of Velasquez we shall refer to these 
works, and shall describe others as occasion may arise. 



CHAPTER IV 

THE DIGNITY OF TECHNIQUE 

IT is not the lover of pictures, but the devotee of his 
own spiritual emotions who needs to be told that tech- 
nique is art ; that it is as inseparable from art as features 
from facial expression, as body from soul in a world 
where force and matter seem inextricably entangled. 
In fact, the man who has no interest in technical 
questions has no interest in art ; he loves it as those 
love you who profess only love for your soul. The 
concert-goers who disclaim any technical interest in 
music will be found to like a performance because 
they forget it in trains of thought about scenery, 
morals, or poetry. But one may walk on the hills to 
become healthy or to escape crowds, and yet deserve 
no suspicion of a fondness for beauty. Under a 
mistaken conception of culture as the key of all the 
arts and sciences, intellectual people too often feel 
obliged to pretend an interest in arts for which they 
have no natural inclination. They insufficiently 
distinguish men born to take pleasure in the abstract 
and speculative from those born to love the concrete 
and sensuous the black-and-white from the coloured 
mind. They cannot believe that the least taught 
ploughman whose senses are in tune with the pulse 
of nature may make a better artist than the man of 

14 



THE DIGNITY OF TECHNIQUE 35 

loftiest thought who is encased in nerves insensitive 
to the quality of musical intervals or the character 
of shapes and colours. The man of abstract mind 
apprehends great ideas presented in the abstract 
medium of literature, but in the concrete of painting 
he is easily deceived by associations with words into 
spending his admiration on mean forms, on foolish 
labour, on purposeless colour. He looks at the merest 
pretence of modelling, at the coarsest sham of colour- 
ing, at the contradiction of the whole by the part, 
at the burial of beauty in niggling, and his dull eyes 
accept the imposture on the recommendation of his 
humbugged hearing. 

The "apostles of culture" grant but one gift 
intellect to many-sided man, and accord but one 
faculty of imagination to the dweller in a house whose 
various windows look down five separate avenues of 
sense. Often some of these windows are blocked, 
and so many men must misunderstand each other's 
reports of the external world, but the man of culture 
too often keeps no window clean, and from a dark 
chamber of the mind would explain to everyone else 
the true inner meaning of what they see. It is this 
prophet that despises technique because technique 
differs as the material of each art differs differs as 
marble, pigments, musical notes and words differ. 
He hates matter; because owing to matter the im- 
agination in each art is a gift whose absence cannot 
be compensated for either by one of the other imagina- 
tions or by the abstract intellect itself. Imagination 
in words is not imagination in colour or form, as the 
cases of Turner and Goethe amply prove. Without 
matter there is no art; without matter there is no 



3 6 VELASQUEZ 

stuff in which imagination may create an imaga 
Sentiment is not imagination; spirituality is not 
artistic feeling. We all cry, laugh, and put on airs; 
we do not all imagine occasions and fashions of cry- 
ing, laughing, and striking attitudes. We feel the 
excitement of a street fight, yet we cannot all come 
home and image that excitement as Dinet did in " Une 
Bagarre," with its tempestuous pattern of uplifted 
hands and swaying bodies quivering in an uncer- 
tain flicker of shadows and windy lamplight It is 
a sensitiveness to the special qualities of some visible 
or audible medium of art which distinguishes the 
species artist from the genus man. We are all spirits ; 
it is not in spirituality that the painter differs from 
us, but in that sensitive perception of visible char- 
acter which enables him to imagine a picture all of 
a piece, all tending to express the same sentiment, 
all instinct and alive with feeling. Moreover, any 
difference that may exist between the material bases 
of the arts, exacts a corresponding difference between 
the qualities of temperament and imagination in the 
artists who practise them, also between the aims that 
are legitimate to the various arts, and between the 
feelings and laws by which works are to be judged 
and admired. Arts such as painting and sculpture, 
that appeal to the eye and display their contents 
simultaneously, differ vastly from those that unfold 
their matter to the ear In sequence. Painting and 
sculpture differ between themselves more slightly, 
and there is still less difference between pictures, 
whether realistic or decorative in aim, whether 
worked in oil or water, tint or line, monochrome or 
colour. 




PHILIP IV AS A SPORTSMAN 



THE DIGNITY OF TECHNIQUE 37 

An art of space scarcely differs more from an art 
of time than one used purely from one mitfed with 
representation of life, with utility or with symbolism. 
There is only one quite pure art namely, symphonic 
music. Every shade of the complicated emotion in 
a symphony by Beethoven depends entirely upon tech- 
nique that is to say, upon the relations established 
amongst notes which are by themselves empty of all 
significance. The materials of other arts are more or 
less embarrassed in application by some enforced de- 
pendence on life. Words, since they serve as fixed 
counters or symbols, cannot be wholly wrenched from 
a determined meaning and suggestion; architecture 
satisfies a need of common life as well as an aesthetic 
craving, and painting not only weaves a purely decora- 
tive pattern, but also pretends to imitate the appearance 
of the world. None of these arts tranquilly pursue 
the beauties intrinsic to their medium ; none circle in 
their orbit undisturbed; all upon examination appear 
to be, as it were, double stars, linked like Algol to a 
dark companion. 

I might sum these statements in one or two prin- 
ciples. First, Art is not Life; for life is first-hand 
passionate emotion, while art deals with emotion 
second-hand, retrospective and disinterested. Life is 
variable, and a mixture of all materials space, time, 
sound, colour, form, etc. ; art is limited, partially con- 
trollable by the artist, and comparatively permanent 
Second, Sentiment is not Imagination ; for sentiment 
precedes art, and is common to all men, while imagina- 
tion is a special power to arrange the material of some 
art in harmony with a mood, Third, There are as 
many separate faculties of imagination as there are 



3 8 VELASQUEZ 

separate mediums in which to conceive an image- 
clay, words, paint, notes of music. Fourth^ The 
materials of the arts may be used with a double aim, 
or solely for their own direct and immediate qualities 
as notes and intervals in music, which derive their 
character solely from the relations in which the artist 
chooses to place them ; they have no fixed meaning, 
and a dominant and a tonic are interchangeable. 

Our faith in any art reposes, however, upon the 
belief that its material, even if unavoidably adulterated 
with foreign significations, is nevertheless as capable 
as the sounds of music of expressing character in 
virtue of artistic arrangement Otherwise, no medium 
of expression but the symphony should deserve the 
name of art Now, as paint serves both to record im- 
pressions of the external world and to decorate a 
given space and shape, an artist, however partial to 
either, must give some measure of attention to each 
of these aims. He must study how the eye takes in 
nature, and how it takes pleasure in a canvas ; and he 
must learn to reconcile these two ways of seeing when 
they disagree, as they sometimes may. When you 
look at nature, nothing remains absolutely fixed in 
appearance. Size, colour, pattern, and proportion seem 
to fluctuate as you change your point of view, move 
your focus, widen or narrow your angle of vision. No 
object seems big but by relation to a smaller, no 
mass simple except when viewed as a whole in con- 
trast to another, and no tone so bright that a brighter 
cannot make it dark* But when you see forms and 
colours set in the one plane of a picture, confined to 
its scale of pigment, and permanently bounded in size, 
proportion, and place by its four obstinate sides, then 



THE DIGNITY OF TECHNIQUE 39 

you see them fixed in unalterable relations, and always 
bound to express one and the same point of view. 
The laws by which one pictures an effect on the flat 
consequently differ from those that regulate ordinary 
sight Many collocations of form or colour that please 
in a sunlit space of three dimensions with fluctuating 
borders become intensely disagreeable in a flat, framed 
panel. When he leaves nature for art, a man leaves 
bright boundless space where he has no dominion for 
a dark cloistered place where he is master master of 
a medium susceptible of arrangement by harmony, 
contrast, and gradation; master to make his material 
speak in character, follow a vein of sentiment, express 
a mood of seeing. But he must learn to obey what, 
for want of a better word, one may call the laws of 
decorative effect 

Plainly, then, there are two interests to be recon- 
ciled in a picture, the facts and impressions of nature 
on one hand, and, on the other, the beauties and 
exigencies of the framed pictorial world A modus 
vivendi must be established between the imitative 
and the decorative, and the compact between these 
two may be called the convention of the art of paint- 
ing. To object to the conventionality of art is to 
believe in absolute realism, which, if possible, would 
be a science and not an art As things are, when you 
merely draw a line on an empty canvas you commit 
yourself to art, for you have given the line a positive 
character by placing it in some relation to the four 
sides of the canvas. To show a line quite uncondi- 
tioned or uncomposed, one would require a canvas 
without limits that is to say, nature. Convention, then, 
there must be, but it need not be rigid ; it may vary 



40 VELASQUEZ 

with the impressions of artists, with the facts of nature, 
and with the characters of the mediums employed. 
The introduction of perspective, for instance, was a 
notable change in the convention of painting, since 
it implied a limitation in the use of our general know- 
ledge of an object to what can be seen from one 
point of view. Different readings of the convention 
by men of genius give rise to various styles of paint- 
ing, and successively attach a varying importance to 
the elements of technique as they deal with ideal 
form or real form, local colour or atmospheric, detail 
or general aspect. 

This description of technique, compressed as it is 
of necessity, is intended for those who hate "mere 
technique" and despise "matter." Matter does not 
level man with the beast or the stone; technique is 
not hateful, but only the point of view it expresses. 
There is a silly, unimpassioned mind which looks on 
nature without choice between things, which seems 
choked with trifles, which possesses no touchstone in 
its emotions wherewith to distinguish the important 
from the foolish. There may be such a thing as 
mere technique, but it is not what the vituperator of 
realism would have it In words, it is nonsense verses ; 
in paint, mere decorative consistency, without the 
meaning or emotion of truth to nature. 

Technique in painting, then, must be understood as 
the method of using any medium of expression so as 
to bring out the character of a decorative pattern, or 
to convey the sentiment with which you regard some 
appearances of the external world. The two aims 
become one when the decorative pattern to be en- 
forced is suggested by the mood in which you happen 




THE ADMIRAL 

ADRIAN PULIDO PAREJA 



THE DIGNITY OF TECHNIQUE 41 

to look at your motif. If this be granted, then tech- 
nique is as important to an art as the body to man. 
Both of them appear and act for two hidden question- 
able partners, sentiment and soul. Through them 
these silent invisible partners can speak with the outer 
world and influence the minds of men. When we would 
infer the soul of another man or the sentiment of a 
picture, we may do so only through the material 
senses and their analogies. 

Technique, then, is the indivisible organic body of 
a man's conceptions, and cannot be rightly appre- 
hended when studied in fragments. Yet, since the 
exigency of words forces us to present things in 
sequence, we must separate these living parts, and, as 
it were, dissect them dead. This necessity we will 
face, and will look separately at the qualities of 
Velasquez's technique such as composition, colour, 
modelling, and brushwork. 



CHAPTER V 

THE COMPOSITION OF VELASQUEZ 

WHEN he composed a picture Velasquez no longer 
relied altogether upon the arrangement by line or by 
colour blocks of the older masters; and when he 
drew anything it was not according to rule of thumb, 
canon of proportion, or even according to the later 
acquired knowledge of anatomy. He drew, as modern 
painters draw, almost entirely by eye, so that one 
thing was not more difficult to him to see rightly than 
another, and no receipts for representing thumbs, nails, 
curls, or other whole objects can be detected in his 
work. He wished any scene that he looked at in 
nature to be so treated in art as to express the quality 
and the distribution of the attention it had received 
from him in real life. Only thus could he hope to 
record the personal impressions which were his chief 
interest in the world. For this reason he did not 
look upon himself so much as an embroiderer of given 
spaces as a trimmer of spaces to fit given impressions. 
Perhaps the two ideas are comparable to the European 
and Japanese notions of dressing. Hence Velasquez 
when he painted nature held to no superstition con- 
cerning the accepted places for strong points in a 
canvas. Here was a scene which had imposed on 
him a certain impression of its character, and this 

43 



THE COMPOSITION OF VELASQUEZ 43 

view he felt bound to express by a shape of canvas 
that would compose the scene as he had felt it If, 
for instance, the emotion of the scene had come from 
distributing the attention over a vertical direction, he 
must have an upright canvas, even in a figure group 
like "Las Meninas." This was because to render the 
group as it had struck him it was necessary to 
surround it with a certain sense of aerial gloomy 
space, comparatively empty of incident, but not of 
tone. 

That same intention is manifested in Rembrandt's 
"Supper at Emmaus" in the Louvre. The towering 
canopy of the darkened vaults which overhangs the 
dimly -lit flickering table and the wavering figures 
completes the impressional unity of the composition 
and heightens the solemnity of the sentiment I have 
often looked at "The Marriage at Cana in Galilee," 
by Veronese, in the Louvre, but could never feel that 
the big space above the figures was connected with 
them in any but the most formal manner. These 
pillared galleries of marble, opening to the blue sky, 
although they are incidents in the composition of the 
"Marriage at Cana," scarcely seem to effect the mood 
in which the artist regards his figure group. They 
add no meaning to the general aspect of the group, 
they cause no exaltation or depression of sentiment, 
they affect the breadth of treatment not one whit, they 
operate in no way upon the value of colours or the 
comparative strength of definition. Therefore they 
are a mere literary or explanatory note telling us that 
the scene took place in certain surroundings, but not 
affecting the internal treatment or sentiment of the 
figure group. On the other hand, the vast gloomy 



44 VELASQUEZ 

top of "Las Meninas," the empty foreground of a 
Whistlerian etching, or the darkness of a mysterious 
Rembrandt forms an essential part of a picture and 
controls the force of colours and definitions, explains 
the lighting and emphasises the character of the sen- 
timent which invests the figures. In fact, the surround- 
ings of such pictures are as much part of the 
impression as the figures themselves; whereas it is 
impossible to say that the figures in the Veronese have 
been painted any differently owing to the presence of 
their surroundings or that they have been conceived as 
they would be seen in such a field of sight 

Modern painters have become quite accustomed 
to 'cutting and composing a scene in the interests 
of an impression rather than for the sake of mere 
decorative consistency. Yet each time that this 
necessity has led them out of the path of custom, 
especially when it led also outside of established 
decorative conventions, the public have wondered 
and have cried out at the eccentricity. It was so 
when Manet used a high horizon above the picture. 
It was so when Whistler left more than half his 
canvas, this time the lower half, bare and un- 
peopled by incident Most people failed to perceive 
that it is sometimes impossible otherwise to show 
the difference between an object far off subtending 
a small angle of sight and the same object near 
at hand subtending a large angle. For the sake 
of dignity Corot at times consented to let this 
distinction remain doubtful, but his compliance has 
caused many to question the truth of his pictures, 
It will be found that Velasquez, while he revealed 
new truths about nature, scarcely ever forgot that 




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a 
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THE COMPOSITION OF VELASQUEZ 45 

a picture must be a dignified piece of decoration. 
But he certainly sought to attain beauty by methods 
somewhat unlike those employed by his predecessors. 

Velasquez decorates a space by the use of tone 
more than any painter before him. Had Titian 
seen "Las Meninas" he might have found the space 
filled inaptly, as far as line goes, by a row of heads 
crushed down into the bottom of an empty canvas. 
And truly if you made a drawing in line after the 
picture for Mr Blackburn it would appear a poor 
composition. Even in a photograph "Las Meninas" 
loses its rank among pictures, while on the contrary 
the illustrated catalogues of modern exhibitions fre- 
quently exalt a canvas to a position which its real 
execution cannot maintain. Such pictures are often 
the work of illustrators that is, of men who con- 
ceive a composition in black and white, and, in 
painting, lose or bury their original idea in new and 
irrelevant detail. "Las Meninas" was imagined 
altogether as it exists in tone and colour ; it was 
seen in fact by the tache, to use a word of the early 
Impressionists, and the vision of it was not trans- 
lated into those lines which, if you remember, 
Delacroix neither saw in nature nor wished to 
consider the sole source of beauty in art 

An old master made all his space alive with a 
swirl of flowing lines or built it compact like a 
monument with blocks of balanced colour. Immense 
chunks of red, blue, orange white, brown, etc., are 
fitted into each other as if they were the separate 
pieces of a puzzle. On this system each area of 
colour may require a different and separate process 
of working to secure the quality of its tint or to 



46 VELASQUEZ 

engage it in a semblance of chiaroscuro and effect 
Such preoccupations hamper the attainment of any 
unity except of line, of artificial harmony between 
darks and lights, of decorative contrast between 
colours. Indeed, of the mysteries and beauties of 
true tone which Velasquez explored in the heart of 
nature, and deemed proper to touch man's emotional 
habits, these old men were comparatively ignorant, 
or, if they had an inkling of such things, they 
thought them altogether beside the question of art. 
The old masters' drawings, their numerous' and care- 
ful cartoons, their very few notes of general effect, 
show their inborn love of space-filling 'by lines and 
definitely woven patterns. Their problem always 
being to fit the given space, they seldom sew pieces 
on to their canvases as Velasquez has done in 
many of his best pictures. 

The life-size portrait of Philip IV. in armour and 
on horseback (Prado, 1066) is a notable example of 
this practice. To each side of the canvas a strip three 
or four inches wide has been sewn, while, on the canvas 
itself, the pushing up of older contours reveals much 
correction and change of outline. This increase of the 
canvas by strips sewn on, common enough in the 
pictures of Velasquez, makes one think that he differed 
from his contemporaries in the way he set to work. 
You rarely meet with this habit amongst the men of 
the older decorative schools. They planned their 
picture beforehand, and approached it from a previous 
composition carefully calculated to occupy and decorate 
the given space. It seems possible that Velasquez 
began a picture in quite another spirit; that he con- 
ceived of it rather as an ensemble of tone than as a 




PHILIP IV ON HORSEBACK 



THE COMPOSITION OF VELASQUEZ 47 

pattern of lines and tints. Unlike the older decorative 
artists, Velasquez has left few drawings. Probably he 
dashed in the main centre of the impression, and upon 
filling and darkening the rest of the canvas found 
sometimes that the centre required more elbow-room. 
In the Equestrian Philip the strips are not added to 
introduce any new feature or in any way to induce a 
change of place in the figure to one side or the other. 
They seem added simply to let the figure play in the 
centre of a larger field. The dignity, the quality, the 
sense of artistry in the presentation of a thing depends 
very much upon its proportion to surroundings. So 
much around it, no more and no less, seems necessary 
to secure that it be seen under the conditions of sight 
which produced an impression on the painter, and 
which therefore must be reproduced to justify his 
treatment of the picture. It might be worth someone's 
time to inquire into the sewing together of these 
canvases, to hunt out some reason in eac case, to 
unearth any half-buried tradition bearing- on the 
question. The main point seems to be that while 
unusual amongst the older men this habit is common 
enough amongst the moderns of whom Velasquez was 
a forerunner. 

If you walk outside of Madrid upon the bare slopes 
facing the Sierras, you may see the reality which 
underlies the Equestrian Portraits. Sit low down on 
the ground and you will have this same bare burnt 
foreground; should a figure pass, you will see the 
heavy blue of the distant hills low down behind its 
legs, while its head towers up into a cloudy sky. 
What he saw was endeared to Velasquez, and the 
arrangement of any one of his pictures carries with 



48 VELASQUEZ 

it the recollection of some actual occasion of sight 
It is so with his portraits and with his subject-pictures. 
The two Philosophers, JEsop and Moenippus, stand 
as they might have stood scores of times in any room. 
Just so much space surrounds them as naturally falls 
under the eye ; it is of the shape that best befits 
their shape, and it is furnished with accessory of no 
busier or more defined complication than the character 
of the impression demands. The canvases in these two 
portraits are remarkably tall and narrow, the heads in 
them almost touch the top of the frame, the colour 
is dark grey and atmospheric, while the general tone 
seems to bathe everything in a nuanced depth of 
distance and air. The aspect of the pictures in style 
and composition recalls many of Mr Whistler's tall 
dark portraits wrapped in the mystery of gloomy 
interiors. Truth is the introducer that bids these two 
men shake hands across several centuries. 

Velasquez you may say was never wantonly unusual ; 
and, astonishing as his compositions may have looked 
to conventionalists, they appear to us to-day no more 
unnatural than nature, and much more natural than 
many modern experiments in art In the arrangement 
of a picture by Velasquez there is always some intention 
to give the flavour of a particular impression, but at 
the same time a great effort to preserve the sane every- 
day aspect of nature. The fitting of a figure to its 
space always corresponds to the way it is supposed to 
be looked at, to the distance at which it is supposed 
to be seen, and to the number and complication of the 
accessories which share the dominion of the canvas. 
True, in his early work, such as " The Adoration of the 
Kings" (Prado, 1054), or even in the later " Topers" 




EL CONDE-DUQUE DE OLIVAREZ 



THE COMPOSITION OF VELASQUEZ 49 

and "The Forge of Vulcan," Velasquez appears to 
compel things into unreasoned relation to each other, 
but this is the result of that realism which overlooks 
the general aspect of a view and studies the appear- 
ances of its separate parts. Composition in such a 
case cannot be said to influence the whole treatment 
of a canvas, but only its formal outlines, Drawing, 
modelling, definition of detail, balance of emptiness 
and fulness are determined in their character by 
successive study of pieces of the picture instead of 
by a comprehensive view of the whole subject The 
faults induced by such technique are hardness, con- 
fusion, spottiness, and the sacrifice of the mystery of 
enveloping air and light to petty markings and exag- 
gerated spots of local colouring. It will be seen that 
hardness, confusion, and spottiness can be corrected 
by the sole influence of a noble decorative ideal, and 
that the unrealistic combinations of Veronese, Titian, 
Rubens and others are free from these defects. Yet 
their pictures cannot pretend to express fully the more 
subtle mysteries of real light or to render an impression 
of the whole aspect of an actual scene upon a painter's 
eye. 

When we are absorbed in the work of any great 
man whose art happens to express our own feelings, 
a natural and not unseemly enthusiasm leads us to 
set him high above all other artists; but in calmer 
moments we admit no comparison between men who 
use technique to express quite different moods, senti- 
ments, and perceptions. You may as well compare 
Milton and Praxiteles as Beethoven and Palestrina. 
Tonality is not more potent and far-reaching in its 
effect upon modern music than real lighting upon the 
D 



50 VELASQUEZ 

arrangement of a picture. Both can steep the common- 
place in mystery, can flash a new meaning into old 
forms, can supersede worn-out conventions, can electrify 
a dead passage, can sustain and bind together a whole 
composition. Tone in a picture and tone in music 
may not be better than the older methods of com- 
position, but they awake quite different feelings in 
the mind, and so it is difficult to like the clarity of 
Palestrina and the rich emotional tempest of Beethoven 
on the same evening, or to equally appreciate in the 
same gallery the close solemn tissue of a Velasquez 
and the arbitrary loosely-hung harmonies of the older 
schools. The Prado contains some noble canvases 
by Titian, Rubens, Van Dyck, Tintoretto and others, 
but to an eye that has dwelt long on the subtle 
nuances of a Velasquez, they seem to fall to pieces 
or to be held together only by the most palpable 
harmonic artifice. Yet there is art enough stowed 
away in " Las Meninas," as becomes evident when an 
engraver stumbles over the hidden pitfalls that lie 
concealed beneath its suave surface. Touch one of 
these many straight lines too firmly, miss the nuancing 
of its accents, or tighten a detail of face or costume, 
and "some shrieking definition jumps at you like a 
jack-in-the-box. 

When you fail to grasp the ensemble of a Velasquez, 
when you miss its profound and touching truth, you 
can fall back on little else save a few disjointed facts 
of common realism. The art of the thing escapes you 
as the art of a Beethoven symphony escapes the man 
who only catches hold of occasional tag-ends of tunes 
hanging out of a preposterous and tangled coil of 
sound. 




THE DWARF "EL PRIMO 



THE COMPOSITION OF VELASQUEZ 51 

Compared with those of Rubens, for instance, the 
pictures of Velasquez may seem grey, gloomy^ and 
empty, especially if one should be in that sensuous 
mood which pardons everything for the sake of sump- 
tuous decoration. Let us think of a Rubens in the 
National Gallery, "The Rape of the Sabines," that 
flush-tide of the richest colour, which positively seems 
to boil up in swirling eddies of harmonious form. Its 
whole surface is swept by lines which rush each other 
on like the rapid successive entrances of an excited 
strettO) till the violent movement seems to undulate 
the entire pattern of the picture. Certainly examina- 
tion proves the feeling due rather to decorative repeti- 
tions of line than to really striking actions in the 
separate figures, yet the mind that has been possessed 
by this miracle of agitation may well find "Las 
Meninas " cold, empty, and stiffly arranged. The colour 
of Velasquez we must leave .alone for the present, but 
the exquisite precision and the eloquent breadth of the 
figures in "Las Meninas " surely weigh against the 
attractions of a decorative consistency in the flow of 
lines. The breathing of these young figures in their 
stiff clothes, the quality of their flesh, the gait and bear- 
ing of them, the admirable adjustment of the right lines 
of this grave chamber in the old palace, legitimately 
appeal to the eye by an interest of true pictorial art 
The arrangement of this group, which extends into 
depth and darkness, shows exactly how it was felt in 
relation to its surroundings. These fields of vibrating 
space, this vast shadowed top, wonderfully modelled as 
it recedes from the eye, are no more empty and useless 
around the figures than landscape itself, which was so 
long withheld as uninteresting wasted space. The rule 



5* VELASQUEZ 

was and still is that every space must co-operate in the 
effect, but not necessarily by lines, agitated colours, arid 
defined forms. True, it may take one some time to 
understand the part played by the top half of "Las 
Meninas," but when one knows its gradations it appears 
as grand a setting as the Alps. 

When you are penetrated by the solemn statement 
of "Las Meninas," even "The Surrender of Breda" 
seems full of a rhetorical if noble chattering, and to 
pass from a fine Velasquez to any of the Italian 
pictures at the Prado is to see them at great dis- 
advantage. Not even "The Assumption," by Titian 
(Academy, Venice), or "The Transfiguration," by 
Raphael (Vatican, Rome), will quite content those 
who want an art that fits the eye, who prefer a natural 
and organic composition to a grand assemblage of 
poses, draperies, wagging beards, contorted limbs, and 
sweeping decorative lines. Few are the pictures that 
show a unity embracing colour, definition, modelling, 
and tone as well as line the unity of purpose that 
we find iii "The Last Supper" of Leonardo, in "Las 
Hilanderas," "The Venus," and "Las Meninas," in 
some Rembrandts, and in one or two works of recent 
and living painters. " The Transfiguration " of Raphael 
could well bear translation into line, but no one will 
pretend that its chiaroscuro is affecting and mysterious, 
or its colour bound together by any principle beyond 
juxtaposition, repetition, and the compulsion of 
harmonious line. Its upper part, moreover, has no 
connection with its lower, except through symbolism, 
"The Assumption," by Titian, although glorious in 
the power of its colour and the magnitude of Jts 
execution, scarcely answers to the finest ideal of 



THE COMPOSITION OF VELASQUEZ 53 

picture-making. As a composition it is too patently 
broken into three parts. The upper group of the 
Father and Angels seems quite divided from the rest 
of the canvas, and in itself too dark, too distinctly 
cut out, too poorly enwrapped, and altogether too 
unmysterious. The picture, indeed, pleases one better 
when the upper part is shaded out by the hand, and 
the top of the canvas is imagined to die out in mystery. 
As I was looking at it, I heard a lady say that it 
was a fine picture, but worldly, and that she did not 
like that great red figure in the front This sounds 
ridiculous, as, if one dislikes the red drapery, one 
cannot like the picture, of which it is the very heart 
and vitals, yet without doubt her statement had some 
meaning. Probably the sense of worldliness came from 
the hard definition of the top part, and the dislike of 
the gorgeous red and black harmony from the sacrifice 
of all subtleties of tone which such an explosion of 
colour demands. 

To put all this in as few words as possible, it may be 
said that Velasquez uses tone as an important element 
in his composition; that, in fact, he utilises the ex- 
pression of space as well as the expression of form to 
give character to his picture. This is seen in the 
modelled depths of space that encase and permeate 
" Las Meninas," The Spinners," Mr Morritt's " Venus," 
the "^Esop," the "Moenippus," and the so-called 
"Maria Teresa" (Prado, 1084). These we may call 
impressionistic compositions, while the earlier works, 
"Adoration of the Kings," " The Topers," " The Forge 
of Vulcan," and others, we may call, in contradis- 
tinction, realistic, "The Adoration of the Kings" is 
opaque and dark, without a sense of space, either in 



54 VELASQUEZ 

the quality of the colour or in the arrangement of the 
picture. There is no room in its crowded composition, 
and there is no aerial suppleness in its tight lines 
and its comparatively small and hard modelling of 
surfaces. The pictures of Velasquez's middle life, as 
I have said, are decorative in aim, and the equestrian 
portraits of Philip IV., Olivares, and Don Balthasar 
resemble " The Surrender of Breda." The composition 
of these is very much freer and broader than that 
of the early pictures. Indeed, the canvases of this 
time are the only pictures which show anything of 
that scarcely definable air of pose and make-up which 
one expects in the true "Old Master." The hard, 
clumsy, over-detailed patterns of the dresses in the 
large equestrian portraits of Philip III. and his wife 
Queen Margaret (Prado, 1064 and 1065) which might 
seem exceptions, are not the work of Velasquez. He 
found these portraits already executed, and merely 
touched them up in his own broader and more vigorous 
style. The pattern of the queen's dress is plastered 
in with little regard to the perspective of folds or the 
changing value of lights. It is interesting to compare 
its awkwardness in the composition with the beauti- 
ful ease of patterns worked by Velasquez himself, as, 
for instance, those in "Maria Teresa" (1084), or in 
the Dwarf with a large dog. The queen's dress is 
worked in the mechanically detailed style of work, 
which can be seen in pictures by Sanchez Coello and 
other predecessors of Velasquez. 

From what has been already said, backed by a glance 
at the illustrations to this book, it may be seen that 
Velasquez relied very seldom upon parallelism of lines, 
whirlpools of curves leading the eye to a centre^ or* 




THE SCULPTOR MARTINEZ MONTANEZ 

ALSO CALLED ALONSO CANO 



THE COMPOSITION OF VELASQUEZ 55 

indeed, upon any other of the many traditional re- 
sources of composition. But it would be narrow- 
minded to blame either the composers by line or the 
composers by spot Different ends justify different 
means in each case, and, moreover, composers, like 
cooks, although they have principles, apply them ulti- 
mately in practice at the dictation of taste. You 
cannot easily convert people on matters of real taste 
decide how much sugar they can absorb without 
cloying their palates, or how much balance and sym- 
metry of arrangement they can stand in a picture 
without feeling sick at its artificiality. The work of 
Claude affords an example of formal, rhythmic com- 
position which has proved distasteful of late days to 
many who still admire its colour. What is stranger 
still, some lovers of Wagner now find the melody of 
Mozart too formal, too simple, too evident But while 
radical and physiological differences of taste unques- 
tionably exist, we must not be too ready to accept 
blame due to partial blindness, or mere unfamiliarity 
with new conditions, as the result of an unconquerable 
physical aversion. When impressionists have depicted 
figures looked at from above they have been told that 
their pictures were unnatural by those accustomed to 
see people painted on a studio throne. But when it 
was first introduced did even perspective look natural, 
or did it require custom to familiarise the eye with 
its curious forms? Artists should not be censured 
for their admitted carelessness of publk opinion, as 
the most natural view looks unfamiliar to creatures 
of habit, just as to a conventional society a realistic 
representation of human passions appears madness. 
In $uch a matter of taste as the point at which a 



56 VELASQUEZ 

canvas becomes over-spotty can one pronounce with 
certainty? There is a boiling point on the ther- 
mometer ; is there a cutting-up point which determines 
the ratio to the area in which you may subdivide a 
picture? Here are two reasons why no one can lay 
down the law with assurance. First, the point of 
spottiness greatly depends on whether the eye habitu- 
ally takes heed consciously of a large or a small 
field of vision. Second, a dangerous complexity of 
detail and matter in a picture may be rendered com- 
prehensible and orderly by rhythm in the design, but 
then the spectator must be able to embrace the extent 
and meaning of this harmonious arrangement 

Velasquez relies on tone, on the magic of true light, 
on delicate adjustments of proportion between masses 
to unite the many figures of " The Spinners " and " Las 
Meninas." As to harmonious lines, he trusts to them 
in composing a picture as little as he trusts to defined 
lines in his rendering of form. He never cuts up a 
figure or face by lines drawn round the eyes, lips, or 
other features ; he gives a sense of intimacy by grada- 
tions of tone rather than by fixed contours. Thus, while 
a painted Holbein differs very little in method and aim 
from a Holbein drawing on white paper, a picture by 
Velasquez belongs altogether to another branch of art 
Harmonious line may often cover bad composition 
of tone, colour, or mass, just as the wonderful tone 
of Velasquez may at times dignify very ordinary 
line. For instance, the line weavers constantly fun 
two or three pictures into one frame, so that if 
you neglect their lines their composition-masses of 
tone appear meaningless and spotty. If a painter 
looks at one corner of the canvas exclusively he is apt 



THE COMPOSITION OF VELASQUEZ 57 

to put a smaller frame round it mentally, and so make 
a fresh set of composition masses out of what was 
only the subordinate detail of the original motif. Of 
this fault Velasquez, at least in his later work, is 
never guilty. 

Within the scope of Velasquez's own work, and 
even of his later work, the difference between Italian 
traditional composition and the new impressionistic 
composition may be easily illustrated. The "Corona- 
tion of the Virgin " (Prado, 1056) is arranged upon 
the system of balanced blocks of colour and har- 
monious play of lines. But I have no doubt that even 
in this picture a purist in old mastery would object 
to the direction of the cherub's wings, which point out 
of the picture and downwards, instead of in and up- 
wards. A man who composes best by tone abandons 
nature at some peril, when, as here, he undertakes to 
show purely ideal circumstances. 

In the case of "Las Meninas" and "The Spinners," 
Velasquez unquestionably worked from Nature. In- 
deed, there is in this country a large study of "Las 
Meninas," four feet wide. It belongs to Mr, Ralph 
Bankes of Kingston Lacy, and only differs from 
the larger picture in that the king and queen are 
not reflected in the mirror at the end of the room, 
beside the open door. It is generally said that 
Velasquez was painting the king, who sat in the 
spot from which the spectator is supposed to see the 
picture of "Las Meninas." During a moment's rest 
the "Infanta" came in with her attendants, and the 
king was struck with the group which fell together 
before his eyes. Near him he saw the princess, her 
maids, her dog, and her dwarfs ; a little farther on the 



58 VELASQUEZ 

left, Velasquez, who had stepped back to look at his 
picture ; farther still on the right a duenna and courtier 
talking; while at the distant end of the gallery the 
king saw his queen and himself reflected in. a mirror, 
and, through the open door, Don Joseph Nieto drawing 
back a curtain. The canvas shown in the picture 
would naturally be the one on which Velasquez was 
painting the king's portrait Some, however, will have 
it to be the very canvas of "Las Meninas," which 
Velasquez was painting from a reflection in a mirror 
placed near to where the king had been sitting. The 
perspective in the picture hardly seems to agree with 
this view, but rather makes Velasquez to have been 
working on the king's right hand. It is not a matter 
of importance, and the story of the conception of the 
picture may easily have got mixed in the telling. It 
is just possible that Velasquez was painting, or was 
about to paint, a portrait of the Infanta only, when 
the idea of the large picture suddenly occurred to him 
or to the king. The canvas of " Las Meninas " is made 
of separate pieces sewn together, and one of these just 
contains the Infanta, with room for accessories or a 
subordinate figure. Another tradition says that the 
red cross of Santiago, which you can see on the 
painter's breast, was painted there by the king's own 
hand, as a promise of the honour that was to be 
conferred on him afterwards. 

"Las Hilanderas" (Prado, 1061), or the spinners 
in the royal manufactory of tapestry, was painted later 
than "Las Meninas," which it resembles in one or 
two points. In both pictures the top runs up into 
gloom, though the vaulted chamber of " The Spinners " 
does not tower up and dominate the composition so 




A BETROTHAL 



THE COMPOSITION OF VELASQUEZ 59 

much as the upper part of "Las Meninas." Both 
pictures are conceived in tone and steeped in the 
mystery of light, and "The Spinners," in a higher 
degree, is. cheered, in the midst of its deepest gloom, 
by^afvista opening at the back into a brilliantly- 
lighted space. But in "The Spinners" the texture 
of illuminated and shadowed air is richer and more 
varied, it clothes a greater variety of forms, it fuses a 
wider variety of tints, a range of stronger local colours. 
In keeping with its more lively colour scheme, the 
composition lines of "The Spinners" flow more sinu- 
ously and harmoniously than the rigid forms of "Las 
Meninas," and the masses twine and interweave in a 
more rhythmic and balanced pattern. " Las Meninas " 
is graver, nobler, and more imposing, also less expected, 
less formal, and less aided by artificial elegancies of 
arrangement "Las Hilanderas" is more supple and 
insinuating in its grace of pattern, moire enchanting, 
and varied in its treatment of colour and detail. 

In both pictures Velasquez is shown at his- best 
He copes with the most difficult problems of modern 
impressionism ; he works them out on a large scale, 
and he pushes the rendering of his conception in 
each case to the furthest possible completion. One 
or two smaller pictures, single figures or heads, may 
perhaps compare in modelling, in expression of light, or 
in quality of colour, with these two great masterpieces 
just mentioned, but on the score of composition not 
even Mr Morritt's supple and flowing "Venus," the 
"Christ at the Pillar" of our National Gallery, or 
"jEsop," "Moenippus," "Maria Teresa," and others 
in the Prado, can rival the importance of "Las 
Meninas" and "The Spinners." It will be well, 



60 VELASQUEZ 

therefore, to speak of smaller pictures after dealing 
with colour and modelling, and at present to pass 
on to the landscape art of Velasquez. 

In this branch of painting the large upright 
"Avenue of the Queen/ 1 at Aranjuez (Prado, mo), 
is enough to make us proclaim Velasquez a modern 
and an impressionist, when we think of the con- 
temporary Claude and Poussin. The view is seen 
from a height outside the avenue so that the horizon 
is half way up the canvas, and the avenue occupies 
only the right hand side of the picture. On the 
left you see the Tagus bounded by a hedge of 
distant trees, surmounted by an evening sky. This 
scarcely promises much dignity of arrangement, and 
yet 'the picture is fuller of grandeur and immensity 
than any I can remember. The trees in two tall 
towers of gloom, rise into a blue sky streaked with 
floating filaments of cloud, while on the dusty road 
below, coaches and .cavaliers, like a string of insects, 
cross the brown empty foreground and plunge into 
die deep recesses of the avenue. The canvas is a 
large one for landscape, and it is treated throughout 
with a breadth of style proportionate to the size of 
the composition, and suitable to the implied distance 
of the spectator from the frame. The manner of 
seeing recalls the work of both Corot and Whistler, 
though neither of these painters ever saw it In 
this picture, as in his other open-air works, Velas- 
quez has cut the scene out of nature in a 
personal manner, so as to fit his sentiment about 
the place. He has insured the harmony of smaller 
details, both in tone and line, by swamping acci- 
dental or contradictory forms such as the saw-like 




8 
H 




VIEW IN THE GARDEN OF 
THE VILLA MEDICI, ROME 



THE COMPOSITION OF VELASQUEZ 61 

edges of trees, or accidental and distracting holes 
of light in the darker depths of shades. This 
picture and the " Fountain of the Tritons " (Prado, 
1109), another view at Aranjuez, belong to the 
latest period of Velasquez's life. The fountain is 
notable for the soft, feathery handling of the trees 
which veil the sky; the figures seem out of scale, 
and Carl Justi considers them additions by J. B. 
del Mazo, son-in-law and pupil of Velasquez. Other 
landscapes, such as the two finely-handled sketches 
of scenes in the "Villa Medici," belong to the first 
visit to Rome in 1630. 

In landscapes, as in his figure-subjects, Velasquez 
does not seek ideal beauties or acceptably grand, 
poetic, religious, and picturesque motifs. He takes 
a chunk of nature and can do without Florentine 
trees, rocky hills, flowers and castles; he frames a 
slice of life and foregoes hoods, halos, and the 
paraphernalia of ecclesiastical sentiment The thing 
that he paints has a flavour of its own; owing to 
a hazard of nature, owing to an accident of the 
way he himself looks, the scene charms him by the 
play of light on colours, of by some subtle re- 
lation among proportions which gives grandeur, 
delicacy, or an air of captivating greatness. 

Of many qualities possible to painting and useful in 
composition, proportion is at once the most enduring 
in its effect, and the most unobtrusive in its compul- 
sion on the eye. Some qualities exact a strained and 
conscious effort of appreciation; their full expression 
in a picture demands a full attention from the spec- 
tator. Now a work of art should charm us both when 
we examine it and when we dream over it half- 



62 VELASQUEZ 

consciously. Certain efforts of draughtsmanship, for 
instance, require study, and appeal to an intelligent, 
wide-awake interest in action, anatomy, and things 
beyond the immediate presence of the canvas. The 
subordination by harmony of complicated elements 
can only be fairly enjoyed by an intellectual combined 
with an intuitive operation. Mere contrast of colour 
sets the nerves on the gui vive ; it challenges criticism, 
it awakes the caprices of the individual taste. Balance 
asks to be weighed ; geometrical relations set the spec- 
tator measuring. Proportion, like a fine day, puts us 
into a pleasurable frame of mind without conscious 
effort on our part An unlearned man may look at a 
Greek temple and be pleased without recognising it 
to be a work of art He may not feel any interest in 
it or any wish to examine or inquire, but his nerves 
are cheered or soothed as by woods, seas, or moun- 
tains. Fine proportion always seems to have grown up 
naturally, it shows none of the difficulties that have been 
painfully overcome, none of the snares of annoyance 
that have been skilfully avoided. Proportion cannot 
be done by rule ; it is experimental and intuitive, and 
its effect, however potent, is unintellectual. To make 
it by law is to copy mechanically. The proportions 
of the Parthenon are for the Parthenon, and must be 
changed for another building. Of course, space-fillers 
use proportion, but oftener a more or less imitable 
harmony of lines; Velasquez oftener proportion. Hence 
his art is less evident, less exciting at first, and less 
fatiguing afterwards. The more you know his work 
the more you see in it, and what appeared the most 
wonderful effort of artless realism becomes the most 
consummate finesse of art 



CHAPTER VI 

HIS COLOUR 

PERSONAL taste counts for much in the whole field 
of art, and nowhere so much as in colour. Whether 
we think of the painter or the onlooker, whether we 
think of making or admiring a picture, it is equally 
impossible to lay down hard and fast rules of prac- 
tice, and to discriminate between good and bad with 
scientific certainty. A native tendency decides for us 
what kind of use we shall make of colour a differ- 
ence in eyes, early habits, instinctive preferences, causes 
one man to feel elation at the rich extravagance of 
Venetian colour, and another man to be touched by 
the natural poetry and sober dignity of a fine Velasquez. 
As this is so, I need scarcely apologise for speaking of 
my own feelings ; art is meaningless without personality 
and its action can only be studied in its effect upon 
oneself. 

As a child I was fond of engravings after certain 
pictures, but when I saw some of the originals I was 
astonished that the painter should have spoilt the 
nobility of his work by staining it with unnaturally 
bright and spotty colouring. The breadth and solem- 
nity of the black and white had disappeared, like the 
grandeur of a figure when it is tricked out in tinsel 
and motley. Yet I can remember that I was pleased 
63 



64 VELASQUEZ 

with bright colour in the real world, and now I can put 
my finger on some of the reasons for these apparently 
inconsistent tastes. In nature a vivid tint appeared 
only as a rare splash, which set off by contrast the 
charm of the prevailing sheet of soft silvery iridescence, 
or impalpable umbery warmth that veils and reveals 
objects in the chiaroscuro of real light To show strong 
colour thus governed by the tone of the ensemble is 
not the same thing as to play with strong colour in 
an artificial scheme of decorative harmonies, and you 
may count on your fingers the men who have done 
it with success. The black and white medium and the 
Venetian glow, different as they are, agree in being 
quite arbitrary expressions of the combined effect of 
colour and light As all art is convention, I merely 
mark the difference between such forms of art and 
naturalism without implying anything of praise or 
blame. The man who sees the world through tone, 
who feels the beauty of colour mainly in its relations 
to this prevailing principle of tone, cannot easily 
appreciate a use of colour which neither frankly aban- 
dons nature nor treats the mystery of real lighting 
with poetic insight Brought up, as a boy, on Mr 
Holman Hunt, Sir N. Paton, and the Scotch Academy, 
I soon concluded that I congenitally disliked paint 
However, in later days at Fontainebleau, I became 
intimate with Auguste Ortmans, a painter to whom 
the emperor had given a studio in the chateau. When 
the empress was away he showed me her Corots; he 
took me to see work at Barbizon ; he set me to paint 
in the forest, and I learnt that colour was not neces- 
sarily a blazing falsity. Then schools of art over- 
whelmed me, and face to face with the difficulties of 




VIEW IN THE GARDEN OF 
THE VILLA MEDICI, ROME 



HIS COLOUR 65 

nature I was led off my legs, and, as usual, forgot 
how the world really looked to me whilst I was prying 
into the drawing, modelling, and local colouring of its 
interesting corners. Being impressed does not imply 
the imagination to recreate, otherwise we might very 
much multiply the number of good artists. 

There must be some who feel with me that many 
bright colours of extreme chromatic difference confound 
the perception of tone, and give the picture an air of 
insincerity, shallow pomp, and decorative flashiness. 
The solemn mystery of nature is lost for the sake of 
a costumier's taste for courtly splendour. 

You cannot easily bridge over the difference of 
taste which leads one man to enjoy the subtle modi- 
fication of colour by light, and another to revel in the 
bright untrammelled play of colour used decoratively. 
The decorative end may be attained gloriously and by 
a triumph of art as in the case of the Venetians, but 
to people of my sort it remains a triumph of artifice, 
not a great victory of the emotions. We are recon- 
ciled to it slowly and not until we have learnt enough 
to perceive and to be awestruck by a skill which at 
first escaped our ignorance. But the miracle does not 
repose on the basis of our own feelings nor conciliate 
the testimony of our eyes. It seems unphilosophic 
and without roots in the life we lead. It cannot 
touch the old associations of our race with reality, or 
pull upon nerves that have been fashioned by the 
emotions of a thousand generations. Now, great work 
to those who make it and to those who feel a vital 
sympathy with it never appears wholly decorative in 
aim. In proportion to our native blindness or aver- 
sion to the point of view taken, so the decorative aim 
E 



66 VELASQUEZ 

seems to preponderate over the natural or realistic. 
To some men, Whistler seems to blot out nature in 
arbitrary fuliginousness when he meant to coax beauty 
out of the heart of what he saw. To some, Velasquez 
appears to be a decorator with an unaccountable 
taste for certain cold harmonies of a restrained kind, 
turning upon black and grey, which he manages to 
manipulate with some cleverness. To me, again, he 
is nothing of the sort, and now that he has shown 
me the way, I can see a Velasquez wherever I please. 

To the unthinking, colour is absolute, and its quality 
in every case inherent to each particular tint It is 
impossible here to argue against such a conviction, 
but one may point to the blue complementary shadows 
on white chalk, and to the effect of coloured clothes 
on people's complexions. I have observed that a piece 
of coarse green pastel which made a dark mark against 
the foreground grass of a freshly-painted landscape, 
relieved as a light spot against the apparently blue 
and ethereal sky of a Claude. Such is the power of 
the relations within the range of a key. When we 
call a single colour beautiful or ugly we unconsciously 
compare it with the general hue of nature as a back- 
ground. 

It follows from the interdependence of colours and 
from the compelling power of key relations, that 
whether we look at imitative pictures, decorative 
patterns, or natural scenes, we shall see colours differ- 
ently, according as it is our habit to embrace large or 
small fields of sight under one impression. You may 
choose a wall-paper in bed from a two-foot pattern 
close at hand, and experience some surprise when you 
see it hung on an empty thirty-foot wall. So, when 



HIS COLOUR 67 

the primitive realist tints small separate objects by a 
process as near matching as possible, we cannot wonder 
that his picture, which contains some hundreds of such 
matches, should look unnatural. A realist of broader 
perceptions compares the effect of colour againt colour, 
while the impressionist notes or imagines the general 
tone of the whole field which he paints, and then 
determines the quality and value of spots by their 
relation to this perceived ensemble. These ways of 
looking give rise to quite different sentiments about 
external nature. 

In all kinds of really artistic work, whether decora- 
tive, realistic, or impressionist, one sees evidence of 
that liking for unity of some kind which pervades 
every art In painting it may appear in line, chiaros- 
curo, colour, or in a combination of all the qualities. 
An inborn sense of decorative colour seems to recom- 
mend a unity of richness, in fact a kind of varnished 
glow, to the natural man. You see it in the love for 
reflections, particularly in rather dirty water, in the 
taste for Claude Lorraine glasses, in the passion for 
the old varnish that softens the hues of a picture and 
solves them in a warm and luscious juice. The world 
in general admires the harmonising effect of time 
upon the tints of a picture, and the artist of a de- 
corative turn of mind has been greatly influenced by 
the beauty of old colour. Nevertheless, the lover of 
nature feels cheated of dear and familiar emotions 
when he sees some arbitrary decorative principle em- 
ployed to effect this much-desired fusion of colours. 
It may become the decorator to conceive a scheme 
of colouring, but it behoves the naturalist to find in 
nature the bond that will unite and beautify colour. 



68 VELASQUEZ 

In this case, of course, one means by nature the man's 
impression of the colour-effect of the whole field of 
vision about to be painted. In virtue of this impres- 
sionistic way of seeing, an artist gives his pictures a 
unity of colour which is significant as well as decora- 
tive in its beauty. Now, it is evident that much of 
the significance of such colour will be lost to eyes 
that habitually take in a smaller field of impression 
than is taken by the painter. Thus, there are many 
people to whom the colouring of a Velasquez looks 
cold, dry, and inexplicably grey. Velasquez aimed at 
the cool effect of silvery light, and if you look at 
the ensemble of his picture as he looked at nature, you 
will rarely see a poor passage of colour. 

No pictures maintain such a close unity of key 
as those of Velasquez. But this close unity of key 
corresponds to a real perception of nature. When 
a lady in a brightly-coloured hat passes one of his 
canvases, it is true that you see the whole picture 
of one tone in contrast to the hat. Yet the key is 
so subtly varied, so delicately nuanced, that the 
picture, unless through such a contrast, appears to be 
a luminous tissue of air, not definitely red, green, 
black, or yellow. But "Las Meninas," even when 
subjected to this test of contrast with real people 
sitting on a bench before it, preserves its appearance 
of truth and natural vigour. Its colour relations con- 
tinue to look as subtle and as naturally complex as 
before; and when you look at both nature and the 
picture, your eye only seems to pass from one room 
into another. The sense of space and roundness in 
the real room is not greater than in the painted 
room. On the other hand, contrast with the real 






C4 

q 



HIS COLOUR 69 

world exposes no exaggerated reliefs, no over-trenchant 
definitions, no false lighting in "Las Meninas." It 
is, in fact, neither too tame nor too swaggering and 
theatrical in its treatment of natural appearances. 
When purely decorative, a close unity of key may 
sometimes result in the case of old pictures from age 
and varnish, and only sometimes from the painter's 
intention, while in the case of modern work it occa- 
sionally comes from a palpable disillusionising glaze 
of warm colour sloshed over crudity of value. The 
pictures of Velasquez, though a little duller than they 
were, have changed less than those of most painters, 
and they show no traces of glazing or saucing; in- 
deed, they are among the few old pictures that have 
not gained by time. 

The general principle which unites the colours of 
his later pictures was reached by Velasquez, neither 
through that feeling for decorative fitness which 
governed the work of his middle period nor entirely 
through the inborn Spanish love of dark hues that we 
see in Ribera. It comes from a broader and more 
imaginative outlook upon the values of colour as they 
are affected by juxtaposition, by atmospheric condi- 
tions, and, above all, by their inclination to the source 
of light This view of the aspect of nature led him to 
study not only black and white but chromatic tone. 
A change of the plane on which a colour lies tends to 
make it not only lighter or darker, but to change its 
hue to dose it with some proportions of blue, yellow 
or red. Velasquez recreates the aspect of a place and 
its conditions of lighting so convincingly that one feels 
able to imagine the value which any local tint would 
receive if introduced into any position in the picture. 



7 o VELASQUEZ 

True, he seldom chooses a subject from nature which 
contains many bright local tints, but he always treats 
those he admits with a perfect mastery of the resources 
of colour. He is as subtle a colourist as real light itself, 
which veils even a monochromatic subject in a dress of 
coloured tissue. Indeed, the delicate colourist is never 
better proved than when he would paint the chromatic 
nuances of light upon a motif whose chief local tints are 
black or white. By his treatment of blacks in such 
pictures as "Moenippus," "Philip IV. Old" (Prado, 
1080), and "The Sculptor Montafis" (Prado, 1091), 
Velasquez amply demonstrates the amazing finesse of 
his eye. 

The beggar Moenippus in his faded black cloak, 
towers up to the top of the narrow canvas which repre- 
sents him standing, with a book and jar at his feet, 
against the bare grey wall of a dim and dusty garret 
A great shadow wraps the feet ; but, above, the figure 
is tilted back on the hip somewhat after the manner of 
Mr Whistler's "Lady Archibald Campbell." Thus a 
discreet light skims the upper half of the man, gently 
silvering the rusty black and revealing the shape of the 
shoulder and the character of the pose. The beauty 
of this passage of colour becomes more patent if one 
notes the different quality of the black in " Portrait of 
a Man" (Prado, 243) by Greco (1548-1625), who painted 
portraits in Spain before the days of Velasquez. 
Greco opens a pit or hole of black asphalt ; Velasquez 
flushes the blacks of Moenippus with a hundred nuances 
of greenish light Although he could see the finest 
shades of distinction in dark tones, Velasquez was no 
colourist in the eyes of those who see little difference 
between black, Van Dyke brown, or Prussian blue until 




MOENIPPUS 



HIS COLOUR 71 

they are plentifully diluted with white. These men 
are the drunkards of colour. We will not deny that 
they like it ; both the gourmet and the gourmand may 
be said to like food and yet we give them by no means 
an equal reputation for taste. 

In the early full-length "Don Carlos" (Prado, 1073) 
by Velasquez, the blacks compared with those in the 
" Moenippus " look hard, unaerial, and scarcely obedient 
to the light This comparison of the early and late 
treatment of local blacks by Velasquez may be paral- 
leled by a comparison of his general colour in the first 
period and in the last " The Forge of Vulcan " (Prado, 
1059), dating from about 1630, the end of the first 
period, is, as it were, conveyed in a vehicle of brown, 
not at all luminous and aerial as the atmosphere of the 
later silvery works, "The Spinners," "Las Meninas," 
"The Venus," "Moenippus," "Philip IV." (Prado, 
1080), and "Maria Teresa" (Prado, 1084). This brown 
of the " Vulcan " is an almost monochromatic tissue of 
tone which accompanies and unites the colour of the 
picture. It is almost as positive as the brown bitu- 
minous vehicle used some twenty years ago by persons 
supposed to have been educated at Munich. Few 
strong local tints are embedded in the brown tone of 
the "Vulcan"; you have nothing in the subject more 
chromatic than the flesh tints of the dark blacksmiths, 
and the lighter ones of Apollo, a yellow drapery, and, 
on the anvil, one spot of glowing iron. The rest of the 
picture consists ; of originally greyish colours, drowned 
in a brown vehicle. It is curious, by the way, that the 
angel in "Christ at the Pillar" (National Gallery, date 
1639) is the same person or the same type of person as 
the Apollo in the "Vulcan" of 1630. The National 



72 VELASQUEZ 

Gallery picture is greyer and more silvery than the 
" Vulcan," but it still shows something of the dryness 
and hardness which was to be entirely abandoned in 
the last period. 

Vivid colours occur now and again in the subjects 
chosen by Velasquez, as, for instance, the pink scarf in 
"The Equestrian Philip" (Prado, 1066), the draperies, 
etc., in "The Coronation of the Virgin" (Prado, 1056), 
the red cloth in "The Venus," the curtain and the 
tapestry in "The Spinners," and touches of rose and 
red in "Maria Teresa" (Prado, 1084), but they are 
certainly not frequent The " Coronation of the Virgin," 
though painted in the third period, is of a conventional 
Italian style in its composition ; and it is not surprising 
that a picture with fluttering draperies, rounded clouds, 
cherub heads, and all the apparatus of a religious work, 
should be highly coloured in unrealistic blues, pinks, 
and purples. Of characteristic canvases by Velasquez, 
the one in which real atmosphere plays upon the widest 
range of colour is perhaps " Las Hilanderas," otherwise 
"The Spinners" (Prado, io6i> 




THE CORONATION OF THE VIRGIN 



CHAPTER VII 

HIS MODELLING AND BRUSHWORK 

WHILE speaking of colour one has gone some way 
towards describing the office of modelling; but there 
remains a little to say about this important subject. 
Modelling is the basis of the art of painting, the master- 
trick of the craft, since it is imposed upon the painter 
by the very convention which compels him to express 
depths of space and inclinations of surface by shades of 
colour laid on one plane. The shortest if not the best 
description of the convention of painting is given when 
you say that it compels you to have nothing to do with 
anything that cannot be shown at one view in a glass. 
This implies the single point of sight of perspective and 
the single focus of impressionism. In fact, the impres- 
sionists are the descendants of the perspectivists ; they 
fight the same battle, and are pledged to the same 
cause, to show, not how things are, but how they seem. 
Notwithstanding the contrary opinion of certain painters, 
I cannot but consider modelling the most valuable 
acquirement of an impressionist, as with it he may 
render his impression of shape and yet neither rivet the 
eye nor detain the attention by defined lines or borders, 
It seems illogical, and it certainly violates the continuity 
of light to dispense with lines round large masses, while 
you carefully draw them with a rigger round eyes, 
73 



74 VELASQUEZ 

mouths, noses, buttons, and other details. Brushwork 
then enters into the question, as it is the means used 
to carry out the logic of modelling, especially in the 
smaller sub-divisions of a picture where the minuter 
forms of detail must often be suggested by texture or 
a device of handling. 

If one must divide the indivisible and name some 
quality of technique in which Velasquez most patently 
excelled, one feels inclined to choose his modelling. In 
expressing form by real light he finally attained to that 
Greek combination of broad, majestic beauty of effect, 
with the neatest perfection of finish. Other men, it will 
be said, have shown a fine command of form before him, 
and Velasquez himself could surely model well enough 
in his early works. The back of the blacksmith in 
"The Forge of Vulcan" and the arm of Bacchus in 
" The Topers," as well as the heads in that picture, are 
superb bits of modelling. In what consists the differ- 
ence between this early rendering of form and the 
modelling of the later pictures ? To some extent per- 
haps in a growing feeling for comparative strengths of 
definition, which enabled him to avoid tricky or arbitrary 
expression, and to pass from piecemeal modelling to 
impressionistic modelling. A definition may not dis- 
appear in nature if you pry closely into it ; but, when 
looked at together with a second one, firmer and yet 
soft in the ensemble^ the first must often be made to dis- 
appear if due relative force is to be kept A step in 
Velasquez's progress in comparative definition may be 
seen by comparing portraits of the second period, like 
the " Sculptor Montaftes" (Prado, 1091), or the "Admiral 
Pulido," of the National Gallery, with close tight early 
work, such as "Philip IV." (Prado, 1070), or even Philip, 




w 
o 



14 
W 



HIS MODELLING AND BRUSHWORK 75 

full length, in the National Gallery. Though the 
pictures of the second period are certainly freer, broader, 
and less hard than those of the first, perhaps they have 
lost something of the intimate rendering of form which 
was to be regained in final work, such as " Philip IV." 
(Prado, 1080), and "Philip Old" (National Gallery). 

Let us admit then that other men have felt form 
before Velasquez; it was his merit to have shown it 
under one effect of light and to have expressed it with 
the sorcery of truth and not by any kind of arbitrary 
modelling. The term needs explanation ; I have used 
it for ten years, but the other day some one asked me 
if it meant the use of idealised forms instead of the 
actual shape of the model Here, however, the term 
" arbitrary " applies to the want of reality in the means 
used to express them, and not to any lack of actuality 
in the forms themselves. Idealised form can be rendered 
with the least possible convention, and with a fully 
coloured and real treatment of light, whereas actual 
form can be rendered with the much more conventional 
and unreal mediums of pure line or black and white 
monochrome. An extreme but well-known instance of 
arbitrary modelling may be seen in those maps which 
express the shape of a country by contour lines drawn 
at successive heights. The steeper the ground the 
closer the lines approach, till on a cliff they merge into 
a deep shade. If used as modelling, this arbitrary 
principle would assume a spectator in the zenith whose 
eye is the source of light, so that horizontal planes 
appear whitest and vertical ones darkest 

It is not necessary to describe all the kinds and 
degrees of arbitrariness in modelling which have been 
used both before and after Velasquez ; a word or two 



76 VELASQUEZ 

must suffice. Leonardo da Vinci, when he was writing 
of modelling, blames the conventionality of previous 
practitioners as out of correspondence with the truths 
of real light He accuses them of modelling by means 
of a monochromatic tint used in three or four bands of 
increasing darkness from full light to deep shadow. 
These gradation tints, something, by the way, like those 
used now in mechanical drawings, could be mixed with 
the local hue of a drapery or a flesh tint, or else might 
be superimposed in glazes. In both cases a sort of 
obligato accompaniment in monochrome was called 
upon to produce all the modifications of local colour 
that we understand by the word "values/ 1 Without 
doubt, succeeding painters have used more subtle 
methods of modelling, but whether they attain to the 
beauty and finesse of Raphael, of Rubens, of Titian, 
of Rembrandt, or only of Sir E. Burne-Jones, their 
modelling seems arbitrary and their beauties conven- 
tional beside the naturalism of Velasquez. 

When we see a quite white world after a heavy fall 
of snow, we do not see a monochrome but the chromatic 
hues of a coloured atmospheric effect Sometimes it is 
a tissue of rose, blue, and yellow all in a high fairy-like 
key, or again it is a harmony of brown and silver ; but, 
whatever it may be, it goes far to disprove the theory 
that a shadow is only a darker shade of a light The 
shapes of this equally white ground are revealed by the 
various inclination of their slopes to the light, yet this 
light is yellow on one slope, blue on another, and by no 
means merely darker or brighter shades of one tint 
The distances of the snow-fields are indicated by their 
absorption in atmospheric hues, but the foreground is 
not another shade of the colour that wraps the distance. 



HIS MODELLING AND BRUSHWORK 77 

A red, blue, or yellow world would also model chro- 
matically under light, and so we may be sure that every 
change of plane in the real compositely-hued world 
should correspond in the picture to a change of value 
in true colour. 

Velasquez's idea of finish in modelling consisted 
in making his rendering of light logical, convincing, 
and beautiful. He taught himself not to over-model 
every bit of a picture because he saw that the 
range of available values is graduated according to 
the inclination of real planes and not according to 
their size or structural importance. To burden a 
plane with smaller planes, perhaps steeper or equally 
steep, means frittering away the values that should 
not only distinguish, but eloquently proclaim im- 
portant changes of surface. The constant repetition 
of sharp accidents tires the eye; it is like the 
false cry of wolf that forestalls the effect of the 
really momentous occasion. This appears especially 
evident in landscape, where it is counted unwise to 
pretend to fully outline and model objects too small 
to properly exhibit the effect of shadow and light 
The artist who insists on giving such accidents an 
important treatment generally employs a false kind 
of definition which really belongs to the convention 
of outline drawing and not to that of full-toned 
oil painting. Indeed, the traditions of laborious or 
gorgeous styles of the past linger incongruously in 
later art, as buttons and lappets, the relics of former 
fashions, remain on the coats we wear to-day. In 
a difficult passage of naturalistic modelling, painters 
are apt to take refuge in the older conventions of 
line, which contradict and destroy the consistency 



78 VELASQUEZ 

and mystery of revelation by true light If bad 
tone is often a relic of decorative or monochro- 
matic styles, hard and linear definition often comes 
from traditions of primitive draughtsmanship. 

In the art of outline drawing itself, it is held 
difficult to perceive the true sweep and sentiment 
of a long line which contains small indentations 
often steeper in their slopes than the main inclinti- 
tion of the large contour. In this case, however, 
experience proves that breadth of treatment can be 
cultivated by training. It is said that in France 
drawing can be taught even to a man without a 
turn for it, but, it may be added, drawing with no 
merit except that of a proportionate subordination 
of parts. However this may be, it is certainly 
more difficult to teach a man to perceive relative 
values of colour and relative forces of definition. 
He must not only learn to sweep his eye along 
one line, but to embrace a whole area with an 
imaginative grasp of sight Hence it is easy to 
observe contiguous values and difficult to note the 
relation of value between tones separated from each 
other by a considerable angle at the observer's eye. 
It requires an impressionist to feel the connection 
between such values with anything like the sensation 
of certitude with which one feels the harmony of 
a chord. That is to say, it requires one whose 
faculty it is to conceive of all the spots and mark- 
ings of a scene only in some relation to its whole 
aspect The ensemble of a scene hypnotises and 
fascinates an impressionist as if it were a real, 
personal, and indivisible entity and not a mere sum 
of small quantities. 




PABLILLOS DE VALLADOLII> 
ALSO CALLED A BUFFOON, AK 
ACTOR, AND A RHETOR 



HIS MODELLING AND BRUSHWORK 79 

Breadth of view was Velasquez's most admirable 
possession ; by it he made composition, modelling, 
and style, the slaves of his impressions. This breadth 
of view led him in his later pictures to vary his 
manner of painting according 'to the sentiment of 
his impression, so that you will find in his work no 
pattern of brushwork, no settled degree of intimacy 
in the modelling, no constantly equal force of realisa- 
tion in edges, and, in short, no fixed habits or methods 
of expression. In the comparison of "The Topers" 
with "Las Meninas," it was pointed out that three 
single heads which are just sufficiently broad in treat- 
ment to look comfortable, would produce, if composed 
in one frame, a pattern too crowded and spotty from 
a decorative point of view. But such a compilation 
of unmodified studies would sin also from an im- 
pressionistic point of view. It would imply three 
focuses of impression, and therefore whatever char- 
acter each of the separate impressions might have 
possessed would be jostled out of existence by the 
others, and it would be impossible that there could 
be any agreement of meaning between the aspect of 
the picture and its technique. 

To people who have never painted, such terms as 
impressions, fields of vision, and angles of sight, may 
seem fanciful, or at least irrelevant to art An illus- 
tration may help to show them that there is no absolute 
realism of appearance, but that different eyes and 
different habits of looking at the world would manifest 
different qualities and different aspects of truth. When 
a man reads, he does not focus individual letters but 
takes in a whole line at a glance ; so that in ordinary 
reading for pleasure he overlooks misspellings, reversed 



8o VELASQUEZ 

letters, etc. On the other hand, a child reading letter 
by letter, with a smaller field of impression, cannot 
avoid seeing such mistakes. The large print used for 
children is extremely fatiguing to grown people as 
in order to see at one time the amount of letters 
required to give them the current impression and 
meaning of writing, they have to work over an un- 
usually wide field of sight. If they hold these large 
letters at a distance from the eye, proportionate to 
their size, they will observe that the eye defines 
differently, and altogether loses very fine strokes. It 
is easy to apply this to painting, and it may serve 
to show that what you look for you will see, let it 
be a large thing and a continuous meaning, or small 
things and a jerky interrupted meaning. 

Many people must have noticed the occasional 
effect of a portrait upon a blank canvas an effect of 
grand importance, too often speedily impaired as the 
painter proceeds to fill in the space. This blank 
space happened to correspond roughly to the degree 
of attention which the painter had accorded to sur- 
roundings when he was painting the head ; its empti- 
ness justified the closeness of his modelling and the 
precision of his definitions. When he began to focus 
elsewhere and to fill in accessories, the head began 
to look mean and too tightly modelled. Velasquez's 
most closely-studied heads are for the most part 
isolated portraits, painted against utter blackness or 
against an atmospheric grey or fawn tone of great 
simplicity. Such are, for instance, "The Crucifixion" 
(Prado, 1055), and " Philip IV. " (1080), in the same 
gallery. Indeed, the black blankness surrounding " The 
Crucifixion * alone saves its antique Bellini-like details 




THE CRUCIFIXION 



HIS MODELLING AND BRUSHWORK 81 

of lettering and wood-graining from looking common- 
place and topographical. As he became an impres- 
sionist somewhat slowly, the qualities of modelling 
which Velasquez always possessed appear to best 
advantage in those early pictures which are simple 
busts, as "Philip IV. in Armour" (Prado, 1071), and 
not in those which are full-lengths, as "Philip IV." 
(Prado, 1073), r the older full-length of Philip in 
the National Gallery. In his later art, Velasquez 
never painted a wide view as he would a narrow 
one, nor a simple subject as a complicated one. When 
he painted a wide angle of sight, he either concentrated 
himself on a point, or steeped his whole canvas equally 
in a soft envelope of light Indeed, whatever he 
painted, he always painted the quality of his atten- 
tion to the scene, and, in virtue of that principle, his 
best pictures never look spotty, and never tempt one 
to cut them up into gem-like bits. His ensemble is 
always equally easy to grasp, whether he paints great 
groups like "Las Meninas" and "The Spinners," 
solitary full-lengths like "Moenippus" and "-<Esop," 
costume-portraits like "Maria Teresa" (Prado, 1084), 
or simple busts like the head of Philip (Prado, 1080). 
But if the art of all these pictures is based on the 
same principles, and perhaps for that very reason, the 
technique is very different in them all. You may 
note a wonderful variety in Velasquez's style of 
modelling a head, not only in different periods of his 
life, but in pictures of the same period, and, what is 
more, in heads on the same canvas. Some heads are 
modelled very broadly and softly, without a sharp 
mark, a hard edge, or small steep planes. The surface 
slide into each other in a loose, supple manner, that 
F 



82 VELASQUEZ 

almost makes them look as if they were shaped in jelly 
or fluid. Some consist of bold, rough-hewn planes 
which give a face the force and vigour of firm chiselling. 
Others, again, are completed to show the finest niceties 
of shape and inclination, with an intimacy of feeling and 
a delicacy of proportion that no man has ever equalled. 
The handling is always discreet and inspired by the 
necessities of the occasion; neither does it follow a 
determined pattern, which might impart a frozen and 
artificial look, nor does it seek an effect of bravura 
dexterity which might arrogate an undue share of 
attention and interest Although no certain rule can 
be laid down, generally speaking, Velasquez inclines 
to brush in the obvious direction of the forms, so as 
to supplement tone and structure by the sentiment 
of the execution. In many cases, however, he smudges 
so subtly as to convey no sense of direct handling. 
The limb or object treated seems to grow mysteriously 
out of dusky depths and to be shaped by real 
light 

In the foregoing account of the art of Velasquez, 
it has been contended that his impulse to arrange a 
canvas grew out of the scene before his eyes ; that his 
severe and stately colour is founded on nature, and 
that his execution becomes quiet and exact, or burly 
and impetuous, as the occasion demands. More than 
any other man's, his work convinces us that he knew 
what he saw and was incapable of self-deception; it 
is wholly free from haphazard passages, treacly ap- 
proximations to tone, or clever tricks and processes 
that evade rather than resolve a difficulty. Above all, 
his art is interesting without the extravagance which 
may kindle a momentary excitement, but is apt, like 




POPE INNOCENT X 



HIS MODELLING AND BRUSHWORK 83 

a passionate mania for a woman, to die of satiety from 
its very violence. The restrained force and dignify 
of Velasquez inspire one with reverence and lasting 
respect; one cannot easily fathom the depth of his 
insight nor weary of his endless variety. 



CHAPTER VIII 

NOTES ON SOME OF HIS PICTURES 

A FEW pictures may be mentioned as examples of 
his differences of treatment at various times of his life 
and in the service of various kinds of impression. 
"Philip IV." (Prado, 1080) may be noted for the 
sweet finesse of the modelling, the lovely black of the 
clothes, and a command of colour in close ranges so 
supreme that the local tints of the flesh are preserved, 
and cannot anywhere be confounded with the soft 
iridescence of the luminous envelope. I scarcely 
noticed this canvas at first, but its unobtrusive thor- 
oughness gained ground every day, and at last its 
silvery light fascinated me even more than the more 
striking illuminations of "The Spinners," "^Esop/' or 
"Moenippus." It is smoother and more polished in 
surface than these pictures, making, indeed, quite a 
contrast to the particularly rough * ^Esop " near it ; 
so that it has acquired a greener, mellower, and more 
varnished look, which adds to its appearance of ex- 
treme delicacy. One feels that this portrait of Philip 
goes beyond human powers in the intimacy of its 
modelling. It seems to challenge nature in finish, and 
one almost resents that art and nature should both 
triumph to this extent on the same canvas. Per- 
haps the more visionary modelling of the head in 

84 



NOTES ON SOME OF HIS PICTURES 85 

* 

"Moenippus," the grand unashamed bravura of 
"Jisop," the looser, broader execution of the faces 
in "Las Meninas," "The Spinners," and the "Maria 
Teresa," may be more impressively magisterial, because 
more artistic, or, if you will, more artificial. The 
modelling of these pictures challenges less arrogantly 
the test of absolute truth. But it must be remembered 
that in the larger canvases the modelling is modified 
in style to suit different impressions and the con- 
vention of a wider view. This Philip in the Prado, 
like that in the National Gallery, only with less acces- 
sory, is a mere bust shown against simple gloom. Its 
extreme precision, and the close accuracy with which 
every refinement of plane and every delicacy of flesh 
tint is rendered, are therefore justified, since the head, 
freed from distracting clamour of rival interests, alone 
occupies the eye and fixes the attention. It is possible 
to keep a tighter grip on the definitions, and, as it 
were, to screw the eye closer down to the forms than 
would be comfortable or natural in a wider or more 
complex subject 

Velasquez looks at a full-length or a portrait with 
accessories in quite a different mood. "The Eques- 
trian Philip " of his middle period he touches in sum- 
marily with fresh aerial colour, squarely spread by 
large brush-strokes. The eye glances over the head, 
taking in character as it would in the open air, 
without a too nice discrimination of varieties in flesh 
tint " Martinez Montaft6s " reminds one of a Carolus- 
Duran, with its bold planes as firm as if sculptured ; 
while in " Maria Teresa," on the other hand, the face 
looks soft and smooth owing to concealed flat model- 
ling, and the head seems comparatively of small 



86 VELASQUEZ 

account, like that of a Greek statue. This quietude 
doubtless justifies itself by the exceeding brilliancy of 
the dress-painting, which captures so much of the 
attention. 

The full lengths, ^Esop" and " Moenippus," differ 
no less from each other in workmanship than from 
the foregoing. "^Esop," the most cleverly-handled of 
all Velasquez's heads, is the one that most supports 
the legend of his swaggering dexterity in flourishing 
a paintbrush. It is a rough impasto woven into a 
most marvellously expressive texture, which is un- 
fortunately quite unreproducible in illustrations. 
"Moenippus," again, is painted in large overlapping 
smears, very softly but very broadly, so that nothing 
specially arrests the eye, which floats over a face, 
figure, and accessories all bathed in liquid depths of 
air. In " Las Meninas " you take in a populous area, 
you embrace a vast field of vision, a wide view, in 
fact, which demands and certainly receives the highest 
art of impressionistic treatment. Velasquez has 
centred the vision instead of spreading it equally over 
the field as Corpt has done in many of his canvases. 
Yet this is contrived with so much art, that the careless 
might not recognise "Las Meninas" as a work done 
on the same principle as some of those so-called 
eccentric pictures of recent impressionists. 

Everyone will recall compositions in which a near 
figure, chair, table, or stretch of foreground, appears 
an enlarged and dislocated spectre, extravagantly 
mejnbered of meaningless and accidental blotches. 
But these splashes obey a logical principle, although 
they may too often defeat their purpose by their 
infelicitous quaintness. The mind glides past these 




AESOPUS 



NOTES ON SOME OF HIS PICTURES 87 

ghosts of objects unless they are made too strange; 
hence they should not fix the eye, but should play 
loosely in a free medium, and should carry with them 
no sharpness of definition, no small varieties of patch, 
no modelled detail. In comparison with other parts 
of the picture, they should have no attractive power 
over the eye, and yet they should come forward and 
stand in their right place. Now, after some study 
you will find in "Las Meninas" this same art of dis- 
tributing the attention. Wide as it is, one looks at 
it easily as a whole, and at every subdivision as an 
inseparable part of a scheme. The central Infanta, 
by the force of light, by the surrounding definitions, 
by the arrangement of the figures, by the strong 
opposition of the open door and by the character of 
the modelling, alway3 holds the key of the situation. 
But this is not all, for the Dwarf closer to you on the 
right, as well as Velasquez farther off on the left, are 
by no means modelled in the same style as the Infanta. 
The Dwarf looks more diffused in definition and rather 
resembles the head of " Moenippus " in its large loose- 
ness and its floating vagueness. This head, which is 
well to the side of the canvas, yet nearer to you than 
the Infanta, is worked with greater amplitude of model- 
ling than the central figures, and with a less concen- 
trated style and a more swimming touch. But there 
is no shocking distinction of brushwork in the picture, 
no perplexing splashes that detain a questioning mind 
even if they allow the eye to pass. At first sight all 
appears brushed with the same insidious naturalness 
of manner. Indeed, it is rather by subtlety of definition 
and the varying treatment of planes at their junctures, 
that the various interests of the picture are governed 



88 VELASQUEZ 

and subordinated. In the modern picture the trick ?s 
often too readily perceived and so appears unnatural. 
In "Las Meninas" the eye is gratified unconsciously 
by this artifice and the impression of unity is made 
almost overwhelming, although the means used in no 
way intrude themselves, and you would swear that all 
was executed in the same style and by no subtler 
magic than a reflection in a mirror. 

In the busier, richer, and more accentuated canvas 
of "The Spinners," the shadowed left half acts as a 
foil to the right, and in its treatment we feel the 
master even more perhaps than in the lively right half 
which contains the heroic figure of the spinning girl. 
It is because this left half is complete and dignified yet 
not obtrusive that we admire the art with which it has 
been organised. True, it contains about as strong local 
colour as Velasquez ever painted, but the tints sleep 
in a rich, penumbra which serves to set off the highly- 
illuminated figure on the right In this comparatively 
tranquil side of the picture, the spindle, the stool, the 
floor and the objects on it as well as the draped and 
shadowed figures, seem to quiver in a warm haze 
silvered with cool glints of light Here Velasquez has 
reached the top point of telling suggestion, of choice 
touch, of nuanced softness, of comparative definition, 
and of courageous slashing force in the right place. 
But these two marvels do not quarrel; this rich cir- 
cumambiance of populous shadow and this dazzling 
creature emerging from shadowiness with the gesture 
of a goddess, set each other off and enhance each 
other's fascinations. Is not the magic of her ex- 
quisitely-turned head, and the magnificence of her 
sweeping gesture due, in part at least, to the natural 



NOTES ON SOME OF HIS PICTURES 89 

mystery with which the stray curls, the shining arm, 
the modelled neck and body slide into the marvellous 
shadow in the angle of the room? The cool light, 
slightly greened now, which pervades " The Spinners," 
comes to its culmination on this figure, and one should 
not overlook the painter's nice discrimination between 
the force of definitions in the passages from light to 
dark of the girl's chemise. The immense breadth of 
the surroundings, the fluid looseness of the inferior 
markings in "The Spinners" helps to make the girl 
more really divine than the neighbouring Virgin by 
Murillo. In spite of her crescent moon, her cherubs, 
her pillowy clouds, and other religious paraphernalia, 
she is but a pretty ordinary girl whose hands, mouth, 
and hair are softly but cheaply modelled, in comparison 
to those of a figure by Velasquez. 

In the octagon room dose to " The Spinners " hangs 
the costume-picture "Maria Teresa," which Justi 
believes to be a portrait of the "Princess Margaret," 
the Infanta of "Las Meninas." She stands directly 
facing the light in a wonderfully elaborate balloon 
dress, embroidered with a complicated pattern of silver 
and pink and gleaming jewellery. In one hand she 
holds a rose, in the other a lace handkerchief, and on 
the left behind her in the shadow a red curtain droops 
in heavy folds. No pupil touched the smallest acces- 
sory of this extraordinary costume; lace, ruffles, 
embroidery, every inch of the dress is painted by 
Velasquez, with a running slippery touch which appears 
careless near at hand, but which at the focus gives 
colour, pattern, sparkle, and underlying form with the 
utmost precision and completeness. The shadow 
behind the figure is aerial in quality, deep but not 



go VELASQUEZ 

heavy, and silvered like the passages In light, so that 
black would tell upon it as a rude brutality of tone. 
Near "Maria Teresa," you may see work of many 
kinds; the beginnings of paint in a Van Eyck, con- 
temporary art in the Murillo, and not far off A. Moro's 
"Mary Tudor," painted for Philip II. Then there is 
" David Rycksert," Van Dyck's dark portrait of a man 
in a fur-lined robe, very finely and frankly painted, 
although without the finesse of the "Maria Teresa." 
Rembrandt's "Artemisia" may not rank among his 
good paintings, and certainly its gloom is heavy and 
its transitions from shadow to light are harsh in com- 
parison to similar passages in the work of Velasquez. 
Examination of these pictures and others will help to 
show the infinite delicacy which Velasquez attained 
in the art of modelling, for beside his " Maria Teresa " 
all other pictures seem to lack the subtlety of real 
light 

It is instructive to compare the treatment of the 
dresses in "Maria Teresa" and in "Las Meninas." 
The dress of the single portrait sparkles all over with 
vivacities of touch, but the broad, flatter treatment of 
the dress in the larger group better agrees with a 
rendering of attention spread over a wide view. Owing 
to this sensitive feeling for the whole impression, " Las 
Meninas," spread out as it is and full of strong points, 
never tires the eye and never appears uncomfortably 
crowded. Its detail nowhere intrudes unduly and 
nowhere suggests a rival impression to the main one. 
In fact, it is no more cut up proportionately than the 
single portrait, although it embraces many more figures. 
It was, however, this dashing, rippling execution of 
"Maria Teresa" that chiefly struck the pupils of 




MARIA TERESSA 



NOTES ON SOME OF HIS PICTURES 91 

Velasquez, and one can see very good imitations of it 
in the work of his son-in-law, J. B. del Mazo. Perhaps 
solider, simpler work would have been more usefully 
studied. Many painters in the present century have 
been taken rather with the master's subordination of 
detail and his breadth of modelling, than with his 
dexterity in brushwork. 

In all the best canvases of Velasquez, you will find 
the accessories vitalised by just degrees of force instead 
of being killed by an equal realisation all over the 
canvas. So it is in the " Moenippus," the " JEsop" and 
the Dwarf with a dog called "Antonio el Inglese." 
The workmanship of this last a little resembles that of 
"Maria Teresa" in its vivacious expression of detail 
with a flowing brush. The ornaments of the dress, the 
hat and feather, and the dog itself, are all given with 
a gusto that never seems to interfere with true drawing 
and broad modelling. The handling of ",5sop" is 
graver and more stately, but everything here is also 
in its right place and of the right force, down to the 
subdued finish and elegant accuracy of the light on 
the water on the bucket One cannot help feeling 
that Manet, the painter of " Le bon Bock," and other 
magnificently painted heads, must have felt in close 
sympathy with the handling of the face in "^Esop." 
Again, when one looks at the "Sculptor Montaftes," 
one thinks of Carolus-Duran ; of the Whistler of " Lady 
Archibald Campbell" when one sees "Moenippus"; 
and of the Sargent who painted "Mrs Haminersley" 
and " El Jaleo," when one stands before " Maria Teresa " 
and " The Spinners." 

In fact, when we look back upon the variety of all 
these pictures, we are convinced that Velasquez never 



92 VELASQUEZ 

used style for its own sake. Whether you look at a 
point of his composition, colouring, modelling, or 
handling, it appears always to have been decided by 
the aspect of each picture and not by preconceived 
principles. His composition is never a pattern forced 
upon nature, his drawing is not an effort to realise 
abstract contours, his colour is not the harmony of 
positive tints understood by a milliner, his brush 
changes with his impressions, as the tones of a man's 
voice with his emotions. 

Thus in "Philip IV." (Prado, 1080), no brushwork 
is visible as befits an almost perfect attempt at the 
illusion of light. This smoothness, however, has 
no kinship with the polish of Raphael, which was a 
mannerism applied to everything. The earlier " Forge 
of Vulcan" shows a more evident workmanship, no- 
where rough or sweeping, though you may note several 
instances of brushing across the shape of the limb, 
for Velasquez was never pedantic in his use of prin- 
ciples. " The Spinners " may be quoted as an example 
of the painter's art of touching accessories broadly, 
and in this connection one should look also at the 
slashing lights on the horse in the "Equestrian 
Olivares." The " Sculptor Montafi<s," the best portrait 
of the middle period, forestalls modern logicality of 
treatment; one may note the bold certainty with 
which Velasquez establishes the form of the eye 
socket, the planes of the nose and cheeks in this 
broad and stately portrait No lines are wanted to 
bring out the shapes; the painter's science of values 
is all-sufficient Even in "Maria Teresa," which is 
a miracle of dexterous touch, the handling is obedient 
to fact and expresses matter before manner. The 




fc 

5 



NOTES ON SOME OF HIS PICTURES 93 

large, soft style of brushing used in "Moemppus," 
c Las Meninas," etc., may be seen on a smaller scale 
in the "Philip IV. Old," of the National Gallery. 
Lastly, the management of trees by Velasquez, in his 
later period, as in "The Avenue" (Prado, mo), may 
be compared in beauty, even to the work of Corot. 
He has felt to the full the soft, bowery umbrageous- 
ness of trees, and has seen that for the most part 
they cut against the sky with a blurred, vaporous 
line. As a tree is deep as well as broad, it can 
seldom relieve as a jagged line against a background ; 
and as leaves are very small, and set one behind the 
other, the saw-edge of the contour of detachment 
becomes merely a line softened with such a burr as 
you see in dry-point 



CHAPTER IX 

HIS RELATION TO OLDER ART 

To the eye of the historian, Velasquez may seem to 
grow out of the main stem of art ; he may appear to 
have his place in the orderly development of the 
history of painting. To the eye of the sympathetic 
modern painter, he seems an explosion of personality 
as disconnected with the art that immediately followed 
him as with that which preceded him. I believe that 
the expert in mannerisms has tried to fix his measur- 
ing apparatus upon the pictures of Velasquez, but to no 
good purpose. The counting of curls, the measuring 
of thumbs, the tracing of poses, may reveal something 
when applied to men who learnt to draw and paint 
formulas by rote, but must break down in the case 
of a man with whom drawing is not a habit but an 
art. Velasquez taught himself to picture the impres- 
sion made by any sight upon his brain. This system 
of training, which aims at improving the sight, at 
cultivating a mood, at gaining a general faculty, has 
banished the other system of learning a set of propor- 
tions, a stock of patterns, a host of tips for drawing 
separate limbs and other natural objects. Nothing 
astonishes a modern painter more than to see a 
historian ransack every gallery to find a precedent for 
the style of a hand in a picture, rather than admit the 

94 




THE DWARF " EL NINO 
DE VALLECAS" 



HIS RELATION TO OLDER ART 95 

possibility that an artist could choose one for himself 
in the vast magazine of nature. Personal preference, 
artistic impressionability, the counsel of a passing mood, 
the testimony of a sensitive eye, are not these sufficient 
reasons for the appearance of some given form in a 
picture? Moreover, a picture cannot be the efficient, 
the first cause of a picture; all true art originates in 
the personal predilections of an individual mind, and in 
personal sensitiveness to external nature. The rest is 
disguised copying, artistic or inartistic mannerism. 
Now, of all painters, Velasquez was the one who 
tampered least with the integrity of his impression of 
the world. Every one of his pictures was a fresh 
effort, less at finding a new and striking subject than 
at realising more absolutely a way of seeing things 
in general that was personal to him. Hence he never 
tired of repetition, for the good reason that it was no 
repetition to him in the sense that successive Madonnas 
and saints were to the early Italians, who cooked them 
out of receipts for thumbs, hair, draperies, ovals of 
faces, noses and poses. 

This makes the study of his work at Madrid as 
trying as the study of some dozen old Italian masters. 

Although during a too short visit to the Prado I 
looked at the rest of the gallery only as a background 
to the pictures of Velasquez, I cannot speak of him 
without feeling a want of fuller knowledge and, above 
all, of the advantage of having made one or two copies. 
It was some consolation, after leaving Madrid, to hear 
from the Scotch painter, Mr John Lavery, that he had 
not found six months of study tod careful copying 
sufficient to settle his opinions on the pictures of 
Velasquez. Upon his return in a following year, he 



96 VELASQUEZ 

found unexpected beauties in some canvases, he looked 
at others as if he had never seen them before, while 
the copy that in Scotland had been to him and to 
other painters the very interpretation of Velasquez, 
now seemed lacking the essential spirit of the master. 
Thus, whether one gives a week or a year to the 
Prado, one comes back convinced that one cannot 
have sounded all the depths of a man who never did 
anything as a skilled automaton or a learned pedant 
Of course it is in the later canvases, in the works of 
the last dozen years of his life, that Velasquez makes the 
most marvellous use of paint But the marvel is not of 
the kind one looks for. In the large impressionistic 
canvases of his later life, one might expect to see the 
bold, dexterous brasher surpassing even Ribera, Hals, 
or the mature Rembrandt in the bravura of his handi- 
work. On the contrary, as I have said, the paint at 
first sight scarcely appears to be intentionally handled ; 
it seems put on, I might say, without art, if that did not 
give a false view ; for in truth it is put on with consum- 
mate art in the interest of the whole canvas, and not for 
the style of the passage itself. Without flourish, for the 
most part without even an appearance of brush strokes, 
the paint is smeared in thin filmy scales which vary in 
size, looseness, and breadth, with the necessities of the 
subject and the composition. It is a style founded on 
the pursuit of more than usually just and subtle model- 
ling, a modelling which changes character with the size 
of the canvas, with the width or narrowness of the field 
of view, and with the position near or far from the focus 
of impression of an object to be modelled. It is a style 
compatible with revision and correction, for it in no way 
depends upon the integrity of some arbitrary pattern of 




THE DWARF 
SEBASTIAN DE MORRA 



HIS RELATION TO OLDER ART 97 

touch, square, sweeping, or interwoven. This apparent 
artlessness surprises one at first, but becomes in the end 
a chief charm of the later Velasquez, who was too great, 
too earnest, too far-seeing, to care for small affectations 
of manner. In these pictures nothing seems to inter- 
pose between you and the mind of Velasquez. You 
seem to be behind his eye, able to judge and to feel, 
with all the power and sensitiveness .of that unrivalled 
organ. In a word, his work resembles the fine writing 
in which style is so docile a servant of matter, that it 
never draws attention to itself; you read as you might 
eat a meal in the Arabian Nights, served by invisible 
hands. 

In spite of the example of Velasquez, some modern 
painters fear a close study of drawing, values, or model- 
ling ; and through their timidity they leave an impres- 
sion in a vague state, half-true, half-realised, a state of 
fever or of sleepiness. Not nature, but the man's impres- 
sion of nature, should be complete and definite. Their 
fear of drawing and modelling is unfounded; in the 
hands of Velasquez these accomplishments never be- 
came mechanical, never degenerated from inspired 
seeing to trained labour. Need we fear to advance 
towards truth and accuracy, when he who adventured 
farthest seems to encourage us by the grandeur and 
surpassing sentiment that rewarded his devotion to the 
mi tier ^ 

Whilst looking at his pictures, one may remember 
amongst his predecessors and the painters of his choice, 
Caravaggio, Greco, Ribera, Sanchez Coello, and notably 
Titian and Tintoretto. The spirit that animated Cara- 
vaggio and Ribera may be seen in the solidity, real 
form, and fine handling of "The Forge of Vulcan 11 
G 



98 VELASQUEZ 

and * The Topers." In Greco you may see something 
of the simplicity and sober colouring of his single 
portraits, and in Coello a prophecy of his flesh colours 
of grey ash quality and of his early accuracy in the 
accessories of dress. 

Greco is often spoken of as a man to whom Velasquez 
was directly indebted for his style. While Greco cer- 
tainly adopted a Spanish gravity of colouring, neither 
that nor his modelling was ever subtle or thoroughly 
natural Yet in such portraits as Prado 243, 245, there 
is more suppleness and breadth than Velasquez had 
ever displayed up to the date of Greco's death at 
Toledo in 1625. One of these examples of Greco's 
work (No. 243) hangs just above the early Velasquez, 
"Philip IV." (1071), and while one admits Greco's 
superior freedom and ease of style, one perhaps admires 
still more the inborn power of seeing shown by the 
modelling of the mouth of this early Velasquez. While 
Velasquez ripened with age and practice, Greco was 
rather inclined to get rotten with facility. 

Velasquez had opportunities of studying other painters 
than Greco as soon as he became Court painter, and it 
is known that his admiration was early turned to the 
work of Venice, He often praised Titian's execution 
as well as Tintoretto's rendering of light and the just 
depth of space. On the authority of Boschini, Carl 
Justi records a conversation between Salvator Rosa and 
Velasquez, which throws some light on the Spaniard's 
natural tastes. Salvator had asked whether after all 
he had seen in Italy he did not think Raphael the best, 
to which Velasquez replied, " Raphael, to be plain with 
you, for I like to be candid and outspoken, does not 
please me at all." Then Salvator said, " In that case, 



HIS RELATION TO OLDER ART 99 

there can apparently be nobody to your taste in Italy, 
for to him we yield the crown." And Velasquez 
answered, "In Venice are found the good and the 
beautiful; to their brush I give the first place; it is 
Titian that bears the banner/' Velasquez, indeed, must 
have admired the breadth and envelopment of the 
pictures of Titian, Tintoretto, Correggio, Veronese, and 
certainly the style of such a portrait as the "'Andrea 
Odoni " by Lotto, which was exhibited in the New 
Gallery, January 1895. On the other hand, he could 
scarcely be expected to sympathise with the art of 
Raphael; and his outspokenness has been amply re- 
paid in all ages by the frank dislike of all Raphaelites 
for his own work. We could not wish artists other- 
wise; were they tepid to the beauties they see in the 
world, they could arouse in us but a feeble response 
to their works. Art without personal prejudice would 
become an affair of science in which truth depends on 
argument and not on personal convictions. Painting, 
in that case, would be abandoned by artistic minds for 
some field of enterprise which was unattainable by 
mathematical processes, and which still offered free 
elbow-room for the sport of the emotions and the play 
of personality. 

But before Velasquez saw Italy he must have seen 
the superb portrait "Mary Tudor " (Prado, 1484), by 
Antonio More. The lesson of a picture which is abso- 
lutely sincere to the principle of sight of its author 
cannot have been lost upon Velasquez. This portrait 
stops everyone and communicates the shock of contact 
with a real person. I say " shock " advisedly, for it is 
over-modelled after the manner of those who have fine 
eyes and are not impressionists. It betrays invincible 



ioo VELASQUEZ 

perseverance, care, and close perception, but it reveals 
nothing magically like a late portrait by Velasquez. 
Having seen it, you are done with it, and cannot hope 
to find fresh beauties dawning on you each time you 
return. The thing is too set, too tightly frozen into 
definite lines in the features. Mary Tudor would never 
have so looked to any one in her life. This determined 
hunting down of every separate feature has ended in 
something more rigid than flesh; something more like a 
caricature than an impression, something more like a 
diagram than the changeable reality of nature. It is a 
record, perhaps, for the historian, not a revelation for 
the poet Yet beyond this ideal I scarcely think 
Velasquez travelled until he was over thirty. It will 
be remembered that the "Mary Tudor" hangs on the 
same wall with the "Sculptor Montaflfe," "The Spinners," 
and "Maria Teresa," by Velasquez. The comparison 
here offered is worth making by any one who goes to 
Madrid 

The power of seizing a speaking resemblance such 
as we see in "Mary Tudor" has been always accorded 
to Velasquez. It is a merit which cannot be denied 
him as it was denied Titian, Rembrandt, Rubens, and 
other great painters who often executed a fantasia on 
the motif of the person painted. Titian's "Francois 
Premier " is shrewdly doubted on the score of likeness 
in the present day, and Dutch burghers in the past 
preferred Van der Heist to Rembrandt It was in the 
cause of beauty that these great artists sacrificed the 
accurate map of the features that pleases family friends 
and the profusion of hard accessories that ministers to 
family pride. 




CRISTOBAL DE PERNIA 
CALLED "BABARROJA 5 " 



HIS RELATION TO OLDER ART 101 

A painter may not with impunity take the free 
generous style of Titian and Rembrandt and correct it 
with a dose of the patient accuracy of tamer spirits. 
Grandeur and carefulness will usually quarrel like a 
medicine of ill-mixed ingredients in a patient's stomach. 
Men who have been as conscientiously truthful as 
Velasquez have painted worse than he has and have 
not attained the same kind of truth. The intimacy 
which is so much admired in Velasquez was not arrived 
at by deliberate eclecticism, but by the inspiration of 
a genius for seeing things freshly. He learnt to see 
differently from Antonio More, to care for larger truths ; 
and it was this fine imaginative seeing that gave a 
charm to the world in his eyes and prompted his brush 
to nobler fashions of expression. For what great thing 
can be done in art with only patience, method, and 
accuracy of eye? Those who have tried and failed, 
but who take heart to understand the success of great 
men, know that mere trouble only ends in elaboration 
of the part and disorganisation of the whole ; at best 
in the dull topographical chart of the features which 
misses the divine enchantment of the finest art Yet 
one may search through the Prado in vain to find 
any portrait, outside of the work of Velasquez, more 
thoroughly studied than " Mary Tudor/' more evidently 
the report of a trustworthy eye. " LTiorame au gant," 
or the still finer "Young Man unknown" by Titian in 
the Louvre, not to speak of "Titian's Mistress," are 
incomparably more beautiful art than "Mary Tudor"; 
they are less intimate, however. It is only Velasquez 
who is as penetrating as More, as poetical and artistic 
as Titian. "Titian's Mistress, 1 ' it is not possible to 



102 VELASQUEZ 

imagine even Velasquez able to better, but one feels 
that he, and perhaps he alone, could have corrected a 
certain hardness in the modelling of "L'homme au 
gant," and an unwise precision in certain lines of the 
glove, hair, etc. 




MARIANA DE AUSTRIA 
SECOND WIFE OF PHILIP IV 



CHAPTER X 

HIS INFLUENCE UPON RECENT ART* 

To see the Prado is to modify one's opinion of the 
novelty of recent art Landscape and landscape with 
figure may be more independent of the past, but figure 
painting certainly owes much to Velasquez. Whether 
directly or indirectly, whether consciously or uncon- 
sciously, artists have decided after half-a- century of 
exploration to follow the path of Velasquez. Not that 
they have plagiarised, but that in the natural growth of 
ideas, the seed of thought has been blown from Spain 
to every part of the world. The process, however, was 
a slow one. Writers on Velasquez have been few ; in 
the past Pacheco, the master and father-in-law of 
Velasquez, and Palomino, painter to Philip V. ; in the 
present century Sir W. Stirling Maxwell, Richard Ford, 
T. Thor6, Carl Justi, and one or two others. But writing 
can do nothing to help art, unless like a sign-post it 
makes painters aware of the road to a certain kind of 
art They must walk it themselves, and we find that 
those who saw and spoke enthusiastically of Velasquez 
In the early portion of the century went little out of 
their way to understand him. Sir David Wilkie pre- 
ferred "The Topers" to the later work, and John Philip, 
if he learnt anything from Velasquez, learnt from the 
early pictures certain receipts in colouring and in hand- 
103 



104 VELASQUEZ 

ling a brush, but not the courage to work entirely 
without receipts. 

The return to nature of the French Romantics of 
1815 to 1855 was guided rather by the example of 
Rubens, Rembrandt, Lawrence, and Constable, than 
by that of Velasquez. A Gros, a Gerlcault, a Delacroix, 
however vigorously painted, shows only a realism of 
subject, of textures, of detail, of drawing, but never a 
realism of general aspect that could approach the con- 
vincing truth of the later impressionism of Velasquez. 
It was in landscape with figure that France indepen- 
dently worked out the principles of a new art, and 
even Corot seems to hold one hand to the Romantics, 
and the other to the schools of 1865-95. The names 
of Courbet, Manet, Carolus-Duran, Whistler, Henner, 
will occur to everyone as characteristic of the departure 
of the present movement in art Without doubt, Bonnat, 
E. Delaunay, A. Legros, and others have revived our 
interest in style, our assiduity in modelling, but after 
fashions less particular to our own age, I am more 
acquainted with M. Carolus-Duran's views and system 
than with those of others, and I think that he differs 
from French Romantics much as Velasquez differed 
from Rubens and Rembrandt 

Duran set himself to teach art less on the venerable 
principles of outline drawing than on a method adapted 
to his own fashion of looking at nature by masses and 
by constructive planes. Of course, Duran taught draw- 
ing, but likely enough his method was not suitable to 
every kind of talent, for he separated drawing from 
modelling with the brush as little as possible. Accord- 
ing to him the whole art of expressing form should 
progress together and should consist in expressing it, 



HIS INFLUENCE UPON RECENT ART 105 

as we see it, by light He regarded drawing as the art 
of placing things rightly in depth as well as in length 
and breadth ; and for this purpose he would call atten- 
tion to various aspects of form the intersection and 
prolongation of imaginary lines, the shape of inclosed 
spaces, the interior contents of masses, the inclination of 
planes to light, and the expression or characteristic 
tendency of any visible markings. 

Very far back in history there was probably a sort 
of folk-drawing as there was folk-music consisting of 
conventions for expressing individual objects to be 
learnt by rote as we learn the shapes of the countries 
from an atlas. Then came the stage of canons of 
proportion as we find them still discussed by Diirer 
and Leonardo in their attempts to formalise the vague 
traditions of the past From this we pass in the books 
of that same Leonardo to the third stage based on the 
sciences of perspective and anatomy. Relics of the 
first two stages are still to be found amongst school- 
boys who hand down "tips" for drawing men and 
objects, and never dream of going to look at any 
object for themselves, "Show me how to draw a 
man," or "I haven't learnt how one does a pig yet," 
are phrases commonly heard amongst that kind of 
practitioner. This rule of thumb tradition grows from 
various sources, stray personal memories or observa- 
tions, and fragmentary recollections of the work of 
such schools of first-hand study from nature as the 
Greek and Assyrian. The sciences in their turn 
were very useful to those who would group figures 
from chic> cultivate improvement of type, and intro- 
duce tumbled and floating figures into great ceiling 
decorations. 



io6 VELASQUEZ 

As in Greece, so in later Europe, it was portraiture 
that kept art sincere and vital. But in spite of that 
influence, figure subjects remained long in the con- 
ventional stage. Leonardo's constant appeal to nature 
was not the mere commonplace saw that it is to-day. 
He found it necessary to enforce his view on every 
point ; on drawing, on perspective, on chiaroscuro, on 
the value of colours at various distances, on the art 
of modelling, which he describes as too often con- 
sisting of an arbitrary passage from dark to light by 
the use of two or three stock tones brushed together. 

Is it wonderful that you can apply Morelli's principles 
of criticism to the Pre-Raphaelite Italian schools : that 
you can point to the thumbs, fingers, poses of the 
head, ovals of the face, and schemes of colour that 
the painters learnt by heart, and can even say from 
whom they learnt? The later Venetians broke away, 
and when you come to Velasquez, the system holds 
good as little as it can in our own day. Velasquez 
taught his eye so to report sight that he could render 
the familiar or the unfamiliar, and could communicate 
directly with what was before him without the inter- 
vention of traditional rules or scientific study. His 
name was for ever in the mouth of Carolus-Duran, 
when he spoke of the past, but it was not to induce 
his students to copy even Velasquez. For instance, 
the influence of Corot was great at that time, and 
I have heard Duran say, "When you go into the 
fields you will not see a Corot; paint what you see." 
He wished to direct their education so that his pupils 
might attack nature from whatever side they pleased. 
The prerogative of grasping what is before you does 
not preclude you from afterwards learning to do with- 




THE DWARF CALLED 
"ANTONIO EL INGLESE* 



HIS INFLUENCE UPON RECENT ART 107 

out the model, and to paint what you imagine instead 
of what you see, but it provides you a perpetual 
stronghold in case of defeat, and a base of operations 
for future excursions into the unknown. 

In his "Manual of Oil Painting," the Hon. John 
Collier says, "To whatever use he may mean to put 
his art eventually, the one thing that he has to learn, 
as a student^ is how to represent faithfully any object 
that he has before him," and in another place, " there 
is nothing so deadening to the imagination as to try 
to express it with inadequate means." Velasquez, by 
the admission of all the artists in Rome, alone painted 
reality, the others, some decorative convention. When, 
in the present century, truth of impression became the 
governing ideal of art, Velasquez became the prophet 
of the new schools. At that time in France, any 
coterie of young painters hired a studio, and chose 
for themselves the master whose art promised them 
guidance in a sympathetic path. Having themselves 
chosen the direction, the students were all the more 
likely to bear with the weariness and the obstacles 
of the road. For those who had asked his aid, Carolus- 
Duran formulated the principles of his own art, and 
enforced them by an appeal to the practice of others 
and, before all, of Velasquez. 

By his method of teaching, he hoped at least to 
give the student a knowledge of what he saw, and 
a logical grasp of the principles of sight After a 
slight search of proportions with charcoal, the places 
of masses were indicated with a rigger dipped in flow- 
ing pigment No preparation in colour or monochrome 
was allowed, but the main planes of the face must 
be laid directly on the unprepared canvas with a 



io8 VELASQUEZ 

broad brush. These few surfaces three or four in 
the forehead, as many in the nose, and so forth 
must be studied in shape and place, and particularly 
in the relative value of light that their various inclina- 
tions produce. They were painted quite broadly in 
even tones of flesh tint, and stood side by side like 
pieces of a mosaic, without fusion of their adjacent 
edges. No brushing of the edge of the hair into the 
face was permitted, no conventional bounding of eyes 
and features with lines that might deceive the student 
by their expression into the belief that false structure 
was truthful. In the next stage you were bound to 
proceed in the same manner by laying planes upon 
the junctions of the larger ones or by breaking the 
larger planes into smaller subordinate surfaces. You 
were never allowed to brush one surface into another, 
you must make a tone for each step of a gradation. 
Thus, you might never attempt to realise a tone or 
a passage by some hazardous uncontrollable process. 

M. Carolus-Duran believed that if you do not 
approach tone by direct painting you will never know 
what you can do, and will never discover whether you 
really feel any given relation, or the values of any 
contrasting surfaces. The first stages of this work 
looked like portraits of wooden figures cut with a knife 
in sharp-edged, unsoftened facets. The effect on the 
Ruskinian of this hideous and pitiless logic was terrible. 
Most of them sickened at the strong medicine, and fled 
from the too heroic cure for the namby-pamby model- 
ling which trusts for expression to a red line between 
the lips, a contour line to the nose, and a careful rigger 
track round the eyes and eyebrows. I have felt the 
first spasms of this disgust, and I praise the master 



HIS INFLUENCE UPON RECENT ART 109 

who stayed, not the pupil who fled. If Duran was not 
squeamish at criticising and touching these awful dolls, 
why should the pupil take pride in the weakness of his 
stomach. Duran had little patience with the aesthete 
and conventional sentimentalist, and nothing amused 
him more than the "loss of my originality," a plea 
often put forward by men still blind to the ordinary 
aspect of nature. He was pitiless to the transparent 
colour dodge, the badger-hair hypocrisy, and the hope- 
ful haphazard glazings of the sentimentalist who 
cannot shape a nose, and would show all Browning's 
works in a face. 

This severe system, it must be remembered, served 
merely as the gymnastic of art, it was a means of 
education for the eye, not a trick of mannerism, or a 
ready-made style of painting. Had not Duran's studio 
been already described, I believe in the Nineteenth 
Century \ I should have said more of the teaching of 
a great painter whose only recognised master was 
Velasquez. There is, however, one point that I must 
mention, as it throws a light on the simplicity of 
Velasquez's flesh tints and the surprising subtlety and 
clearness of his modelling of shape. Everyone knows 
that insubordination of the eye or that false estimation 
of comparative importances in nature which led some 
painters to exaggerate spots of local colour, definitions 
of detail, reflected lights, or, in fact, anything dangerous 
to the peace of the ensemble. They so treated the skin, 
as to embarrass modelling, which is the first quality 
in a face, for the sake of accidental spots, which are of 
little count in that most even and luminous of sub- 
stances, flesh. 

If you will paint the trivial and the uncharacteristic, 



no VELASQUEZ 

your picture must be commonplace ; for what affects 
us in a picture is that for which it was painted, the 
things, in fact, for which the aspect of the canvas was 
designed. It is not sufficient to put things into a work 
of art, it is necessary to see that they look out from 
it perspicuously and with the greatest possible effect 
A certain pattern, a certain shape, may be somewhere 
on a canvas, but it may lie there as well hid as the 
secret of a puzzle picture. The person who never sees 
anything particular to look at in a scene, alone thinks 
he can show everything to equal advantage by a labour 
of addition. The man with only a sense of decoration 
is saved this last humiliation of mistaking trouble for 
feeling, counting for being impressed, and measuring 
for seeing. He knows that every extra marking on a 
canvas increases the danger that a design may be 
choked and modelling buried in a welter of dots or 
a labyrinth of subordinate pattern. The English 
stipple of colours, chiefly seen about the eyes, ears, 
and the edges of shadows, always drew from Duran 
his famous "Pourquoi ces trente six mille couleurs." 
We saw them, of course, not in nature, but in our 
memories of the cadmium, lake, green, and blue spots 
of the English pictures of that date. It was an easy 
task to seize on the excuse for these coloured spots, 
a difficult one to embrace the relations of the ensemble 
that reduced them to their true insignificance. The 
ornaments of an exaggerated colouring may be com- 
pared to the graces of rhyme in an accented language, 
such as English. Dignity stumbles over these recur- 
rent obstacles, and if the sense skips them cleverly, 
it is at the expense of earnestness and reality. 
The sight of Velasquez at Madrid does not make 




PHILIP iv (OLD) 



HIS INFLUENCE UPON RECENT ART in 

us look upon the works of Regnault, Courbet, Manet, 
Carolus-Duran, Monet, Henner, Whistler, Degas, 
Sargent, and the rest, as plagiary. It rather gives 
the man of our century confidence that he is following 
a path not unlike that trod to such good purpose by 
the great Spaniard. To reach the goal of impres- 
sionism cost Velasquez thirty years of exploration, and 
then it was gained only for the expression of his own 
views. Velasquez, except in his few landscapes, never 
applied his principles to the thorough realisation of 
plein-air effects. Thus, the path pursued by men of 
the present century, though by no means identical, 
passes through similar stages and progressions. De- 
corative formulas, and the successive realism of various 
separate qualities subject, form, colour, and atmos- 
phere bestrew the path from Gros to Manet, just as 
they mark the stages in the development of the solitary 
Velasquez. 

Corot and Millet took his principles into the open 
air; the first painting landscape with figures, the 
second figures with landscapes. Of these Corot was 
the purest impressionist, Millet hanging more evidently 
on the chain of Romantics from Michael Angelo and 
Rembrandt to his own Barbizonian school Regnault, 
especially in the face of his " Marshal Prim," 1 shows a 
fellow-feeling with Velasquez in his second period of 
the great equestrian portraits. Duran avoided bright 
coloured subjects less than Velasquez, and reduced his 
handling to a more formal and logical pattern. 
Henner, half a Classic and half a Romantic by nature, 
took up the nude and worked it on more distinctly 
decorative motifs of colour, and on a softer but less 
subtle principle of modelling. Whistler combined a 



ii2 VELASQUEZ 

morbid Japanese grace with the Spanish austerity of 
impression, and saw things with a raffinJs attraction to 
elegance, and the quintessence of modishness. In 
"The Nocturnes," in "The Japaneseries," in "Miss 
Alexander," in the portrait of his mother, he breaks 
away into a game of his own. If not more original 
than others, Manet was perhaps the strongest and 
widest in his originality of all the revivers of impres- 
sionism. He is as various in his moods as daylight, 
and, except in one or two heads, such as "Le Bon 
Bock," shows nothing of his long study of Velasquez, 
unless in the underlying convention common to all 
impressionists. 



CHAPTER XI 

THE LESSON OF IMPRESSIONISM 

THE more one sees of artists, the more one learns of 
their dependence on the model; the more one sees 
them eager to study the thing painted. But they apply 
to nature for different purposes, for anatomy, for surface 
character, for colour, for details, for movements, for 
values, for an impression of effect, for arrangements to 
fill a given space. Great painters of all schools from 
Leonardo to Whistler have so often acknowledged 
nature as the mistress that the admission becomes a 
truism were it .not capable of being understood in so 
many different ways. It is a fresh reading of this 
precept that makes a new art; other considerations 
then become means to an end. Composition, colour, 
brushing, etc., receive a new consideration. Their 
effectiveness and their possibilities of style are over- 
hauled and esteemed according as they can forward the 
expression of the central conception of natural beauty. 

Carducho, a colleague of Velasquez, waged war 
against the influence of naturalism in art, exalting 
traditional and learned painting above sensitiveness to 
nature. But Michael Angelo, a fountain of learning 
and a head source of idealism, rose from the bowels of 
nature, springing, it is true, from another soil than 
Velasquez, from the objective rather than the subjective 
H "3 



114 VELASQUEZ 

position. He grubbed into the depths of anatomy and 
studied nature as it was, concerning himself com- 
paratively little with its aspect to the eye or its relation 
to the nerves of vision. To the learned decorator it 
seemed but a trivial thing to catch the flavour of life 
whilst filling a panel, to recreate in the subtle structures 
of the eye vibrations of a long hereditary past, and to 
recommend a present sentiment to the spectator's old 
habits of visual emotion. However, as we have seen in 
the history of mathematical invention, a new calculus 
is never to be counted useless. It is like the seeds 
which they say lie everywhere in the soil ready to 
sprout after fires or any favourable changes in the soil. 
So naturalism has grown like a grain of mustard-seed 
and the impressionism of Velasquez overshadows art 
The test of a new thing is not utility, which may appear 
at any moment like a shoot with the first favouring 
breath of spring. The test is the kind and amount of 
human feeling and intellect put into the work. Could 
any fool do it? Now, in this matter of depicting 
truth there are eyesights of all grades of breadth, of 
grandeur, of subtlety, and art has more than the 
delicacy of a tripos examination in tailing out as 
in a foot-race all the talents and capabilities of the 
competitors. 

The great idealist of Italy was admirable, but he is 
dead, his work is done, and when it was doing it was 
at least based on matter, on anatomy, on the laws of 
decoration. There is a modern idealist whose whole 
cause seems to be hatred of matter, of the truth, of the 
visible, of the real, and a consequent craving for the 
spiritual, the non-material. That . this man should 
choose painting or sculpture, the most material, the 




THE GOD MARS 



THE LESSON OF IMPRESSIONISM 115 

most tied to representation of the arts seems indeed a 
non-sense. 

Yet one cannot help feeling some sympathy with 
those who start on this hopeless cruise, who wreck the 
ship whilst steering to some visionary island of spiritu- 
alism. They are as those who dream of ideal love, 
and yet forgive no shortcoming, and persistently despise 
and misuse ordinary human affections, as those who 
wish for a perfect society and cannot take pains to 
understand their own day or their own country. This 
temperament is ruinous to the artist He neglects the 
material base of art, despises drawing and modelling, 
and sacrifices the conquest of nature as readily as a 
faddist, the well-being of a great empire to his dreams. 
The true artist's thought is of his material, of its 
beauties, of its limitations, of its propriety to the task 
proposed. He has to achieve beauty, but under con- 
ditions of fact, of decoration, of a medium. It may 
be seen in the work of Velasquez that there is no base 
reality ; that the commonplace lies only in the method 
of a mean, a small, and an inartistic eye. It was not 
only his immediate subjects but the whole art of seeing 
that Velasquez dignified in his paintings. 

Leon Pelouse, the French landscape-painter, used 
to say that the gift of the naturalist lay in the power 
of recreating the eye of childhood. When the child 
first sees before he can walk, before he can know 
what all these coloured spots of various shapes and 
strengths may mean he receives from a field of sight 
an impression of the values of colour and the forces 
of definition utterly unadulterated by knowledge of 
distance, depth, shape, utility, and the commercial, 
religious, or sexual importance of objects, Indeed, 



Ii6 VELASQUEZ 

he is not biassed by that chief disturber of impression, 
the' knowledge that any objects exist ; in fact, he sees 
men as trees walking. He sees patterns, and it takes 
him years to know what these patterns, these changing 
gradations, these varying smudges signify, and when 
he has learnt that, in proportion as he has succeeded, 
so he has ceased to know the original vision, and to 
perceive mentally the signs by which he originally 
determined the truth. 

If the conventionality of an art that expresses three 
dimensions by two was not enough to assure us, then 
the foregoing statement must make it certain that the 
modern painter should concern himself very much 
about what seems, and scarcely at all about what is. 
Yet people will tell you that it is just the impressionist 
picture which looks strange to them, and the illogical 
dictionary of small objects which looks natural. The 
observation that a horse at a distance is not of the 
same shape as a horse near at hand is at least as old as 
Leonardo. He describes how the limbs disappear first, 
the neck and head next, as the distance increases, until 
you are aware only of an oblong or oval splash. But 
practice lagged long behind theory, and there are 
painters to-day, especially in England, who would not 
paint the real appearance of an object at different dis- 
tances. They are behind the scenes, as it were, and, 
knowing that they are to produce a horse, they paint it 
exactly as they have studied it near at hand, only they 
make it small, like a toy, because it is far off. Some 
hundreds of years ago they would have refused even 
that concession to the then strange and novel art of 
perspective. These toy boats on the sea, these toy 
cows in the meadows, these toy soldiers in the battle- 




ST. ANTHONY VISITING ST. PAUL 



THE LESSON OF IMPRESSIONISM 117 

field, are not big things seen far off, but little miniatures 
near at hand, compelled by perspective to occupy a false 
position on the canvas. 

Many Royal Academy pictures, and the most popular 
ones, are still full of these comic little dolls, which 
pretend to realism of effect Such rude compilations 
of objects, studied at different focuses, are easily shown 
to be logically defective, but it is less easy to perceive 
the more subtle disaster incurred by a similar fault in 
figure subjects, where everything takes place somewhat 
close at hand. Comparison of the definitions and 
gradations of a fine Velasquez with those of an ordinary 
picture is, perhaps, the most ready way to perceive the 
vulgarity of the cheap method which exaggerates out- 
lines, and replaces tone and gradation by false explana- 
tory definition. To draw a silly line in a mouth, eye, 
or nose, where no line should be, merely because you 
have been taught painting by means of chalk-drawing, 
implies a gross violation of the lighting of a portrait, 
just as putting toy boats and cows in the distance im- 
plies a contradiction of perspective. 

What is the harm, you may ask, of painting a picture 
piecemeal, since it is on the flat, and may be viewed 
from any distance? Cannot .the canvas always be 
easily embraced by the eye as a whole? Quite so, and, 
because it then fails to give a truthful impression of the 
field it offers, it deceives expectation and violates the 
confidence of the eye. The compilation of sketches, 
or focuses of impression, induces false perspective, false 
values, false colour, a false proportion of detail to mass, 
and a combination of interests in false relation to the 
interests of the whole picture. Velasquez may have 
painted "Las Meninas" how he pleased, yet he kept 



n8 VELASQUEZ 

before himself a single impression of the scene, and 
therefore he succeeds in conveying it to the spectator. 
He may have studied each figure separately; he may 
have stood nearer to them in so doing than he makes 
the spectator appear to stand, but, if so, his artistic 
conviction of the true aspect of the ensemble was suffi- 
ciently strong to prevent him from executing his picture 
solely for the sake of each square yard he successively 
tackled. How many pictures of the scope of "Las 
Meninas," or " The Spinners," comfortably fill the eye 
as they do, and absorb the attention so justly and evenly 
all over that, at a certain distance, the sight neither 
wanders nor sticks at special points? 

Everybody knows the condition under which a man 
receives an effective visual impression, one that goes 
to mould his view of the world. Whether he is looking 
at a piece of still life, or is standing in a vast landscape, 
he looks in a half dream ; he ceases to think, to feel his 
own identity, for his whole consciousness is absorbed 
in the eye. At these moments a certain focus is used, 
a certain width of field is embraced, and these are not 
determined by the man's conscious will, but by the 
nature of his impression. To shift that focus to make 
that field larger or smaller is to destroy the mood which 
produced the impression. 

If a cardboard of nearly ten inches wide be held at 
arm's-length it can be comfortably regarded as a whole, 
and of course any view, however distant, that it might 
cover. But if it be placed at forty feet from the eye, 
not without intentional effort or strain can the whole 
attention be exclusively centred upon its area. On the 
other hand, if it be held at about ten inches from the 
eye one can embrace as a whole no more than such a 




LA INFANTA 

DONA MARGARITA MARIA 



THE LESSON OF IMPRESSIONISM 119 

small bit of it as would cover the entire cardboard 
held at arm's-length. It would be wrong to say that it 
is impossible to paint a larger field of sight than is 
naturally embraced as one whole by the eye, but it is 
certain that one would be compelled to determine the 
force of many values or definitions in this too wide field 
by reason instead of by feeling, Safety would lie only 
in a very conventional line of treatment Many realists, 
however, would paint the scene covered by the card- 
board held at ten inches from the eye by adding 
together innumerable little impressions of fields covered 
by the cardboard at forty feet from the eye. As far as 
a perception of the ensemble goes, they remain as much 
in the dark as a child of the final result of a long sum 
in addition, 

To lay down strict rules in such matters of feeling 
as the width of an area of impression would be to 
fetter practice, but it is curious to note that Leonardo, 
centuries ago, suggested that the painter should be 
supposed to stand at a distance from his picture of 
three times its largest measurement It was Leonardo 
also who proposed to show the effect of distance, on 
local colour by painting on a sheet of glass held up 
before the subject of a picture. The value of the 
green of an elm at a hundred yards from you could 
be thus compared with the value of that same greep. 
at two or three hundred yards. In the same way, if 
any one desires to convince himself of the subtleties 
of natural definitions, let him take a brush and pretend 
to paint, on the pane of a window, the view which 
he sees through the glass. When he would follow 
the sinuosities of form, obey the subtle changes of 
definition, do justice to the myriad delicacies of detail, 



120 VELASQUEZ 

he will confess that he has undertaken a task too 
delicate for the nicest of Pre-Raphaelite nigglers. It 
will be plain to him that the scene must be " treated," 
and the main relations alone given. Twigs, stones, 
slates, grass, leaves, can only be suggested ; an attempt 
to define them really could result in nothing but a 
coarse travesty, which must inevitably lessen the effect 
of the more important markings. By varying his 
distance from the pane, the experimenter may con- 
vince himself that the difficulties of painting the scene 
increase as the field of sight widens. He will see that 
a wide angle must be treated differently from a narrow 
one, a motif with one bold, detaching mass, differently 
from one containing several smaller importances. 
Besides meeting these more evident exigencies, he 
must allow something for personal feeling. He will 
find out how to realise on canvas the impression of 
some object, how it should be placed on the canvas, 
how much field shall surround it, and what portion 
of that field, if any, represents a space lightly skimmed 
by the mind, but a space nevertheless necessary to 
impart some quality or some meaning to the chief 
object 

It may be argued that you have only to imagine a 
glass subtending to the eye, the same angle as the 
said pane of glass, but much farther off, and a brush 
fifty yards long to solve the difficulties of landscape 
painting. Only in life-size painting of figure or still 
life can this be realised practically, and then only 
mechanical difficulties are removed. The problems 
of how to employ modelling, relative forces of defini- 
tion, and range of colour, in treating 1 scenes of various 
widths, depths, and fulness of interest, still remain to 



THE LESSON OF IMPRESSIONISM 121 

be solved by artistic feeling. But in this life-size 
painting the task is more evident, at least to the 
reason, and for this cause, possibly, impressionism was 
first fully made manifest in the work of a portrait 
painter, Velasquez. 

People who use both the terms, realism and impres- 
sionism, discriminate their meanings, and certainly 
those who paint impressionistically will not confound 
their practice with that of some realists. But many 
people, in speaking of impressionism, imply that it 
must be unmodelled, scarce drawn, roughly surfaced, 
ugly, at least commonplace in subject Others hold 
that whatever else it may do, it must represent, like 
an instantaneous photograph, passing movements by 
blotches and blurs, and show you strange and really 
unimpressionistic attitudes never seen in life, but 
mechanically revealed by the camera. The work of 
Velasquez should be sufficient evidence to persuade 
them that they misunderstand the question. 

Let us look at some of the uses of the term realism. 
After an age dealing with saints in the clouds, or gods 
in Olympus, a man may be called a realist because he 
paints real life, a battle, the coronation of an emperor, 
or boors drinking. This distinction of subject has 
been shown on an earlier page to have little weight in 
the art of painting; and one may observe that, after 
courtly subjects are exhausted, this bastard realism of 
motif is confined to low life. Nevertheless, there is 
a realism, not literary, but pictorial; the realism of 
treatment which is applicable to any subject, religious, 
mythological, heroic, courtly, or lowlived, even to still 
life and landscape. Orpheus, Encjymion, Hope, Love, 
Caesar crossing the Rubicon, or a man digging 



122 VELASQUEZ 

potatoes, may any of them be conceived realistically 
and painted from the model But when we admit 
this, and discriminate realism of subject from realism 
of treatment, we still meet with various degrees of 
realism. This man may be realistic in form only, and 
fanciful in lighting and relations of value. That man, 
again, may idealise form and yet paint it under a 
realistic effect In fact, realism of treatment depends 
on a piecemeal sort of observation which may be taken 
in instalments by successive schools. There is a 
realism of drawing, of effect, of local colour, of atmos- 
phere, of values, and all and any of these are pictorial 
in their nature. 

Now, impressionism allows many and divers impres- 
sions, but each records a truth of general aspect The 
whole effect of the canvas conveys a definite idea 
which has ordered every element drawing, colour, 
and definition. Schools of painters are not, of course, 
divided absolutely into decorative, realist, and impres- 
sionist; but we name them after the prevailing in- 
tention of their works. The difference between realism 
and impressionism may be illustrated out of the past by 
the contrast between the Eclectics and the Naturalists 
on the one hand, and Velasquez on the other. The 
art of the first added, the other sprouted fresh qualities ; 
one held its virtues in solution, the other in chemical 
combination. 

Those who have not been taught from the beginning 
in an impressionistic school must remember difficulties 
which beset them when they were working from nature, 
and will recall how they only slowly began to appre- 
ciate the meaning and the necessity of working from 
a single impression. How often it seemed to them 




P 
fe 



THE LESSON OF IMPRESSIONISM 123 

impossible to finish a picture. The more closely they 
applied themselves to study and complete a part, the 
more it seemed to change to their eyes, and to 
invalidate their previous observations. After having 
left his canvas for a rest such a man came back to 
find this or that edge cut as if with a knife, this 
shadow which should be blue and broad, hot and 
speckled, and certainly all the mystery, grandeur, or 
delicacy of the natural model painted out in common- 
place. Again and again he tries, and each time that 
he brings a fresh eye to bear upon the model, he 
finds that all its characteristic beauty has evaporated 
from his work. He may never attempt to enter upon 
completeness, he is kept in the ante-room of pre- 
liminary changes. 

Now, all his separate observations may have been 
true, but they were all made under different condi- 
tions of attention to the scene ; whereas, until every 
part of the picture has been observed in subservience 
to the impression of the whole, completeness can 
never be even begun. The largeness, the dignity, the 
swim of nature seen under a distributed attention is 
continually contradicted by the appearances which 
result from separate observations made upon smaller 
fields of sight A shadow on the yellow sand will 
alternately seem cold or warm, blue or orange, accord- 
ing to the concentration or diffusion of the sight 
Everyone knows that when a shadow is looked at 
alone it appears more full of colours than when the 
surrounding sunlit parts of the view are taken in and 
are allowed to operate on the shadow. 

Many people must have seen English painters who 
went out of their way to confuse their eyesight and 



124 VELASQUEZ 

destroy all unity of impression. Some begin a large 
landscape at the top of one corner, and finish it all 
the way down bit by bit Others make use of all 
kinds of dodges to deceive themselves as to the im- 
pression a natural scene has made on their senses. 
These make a tunnel with their hands to shut out 
everything but the one patch of colour they are 
matching. These hold- up white paper to gauge a 
value; these match tints upon a palette-knife held 
against the hues of nature ; these cut holes in a card 
to look through; and these peep through their legs, 
their half-shut eyes, or into a small black mirror. 
Such devices confound and obliterate the natural 
impression when they are used as a means of finish- 
ing a picture. Yet they have some of them a true 
use, which is to persuade a beginner of the relativity 
of tones and definitions, and their dependence upon 
general impressions. Surely, however, it cannot but 
lead to painting false aspects if one should try to 
learn anything particular from nature seen under 
such conditions. I have often seen men painting 
sunsets who would shade out the sky with a hat or 
hand that they might see what they were pleased to 
call the true colour of the ground. Of course, the 
grass instantly became of quite another colour to what 
it had been when the sky entered the painter's eyes 
at the same time. But they seemed unaware that 
they were painting by this process two quite different 
effects in one frame. 

English teaching has been contrary to impressionism, 
and Velasquez has not been sufficiently, or at any 
rate rightly, admired. Many painters and writers of 
influence have condemned impressionism in a manner 



THE LESSON OF IMPRESSIONISM 125 

which showed that they neither knew nor cared any- 
thing about it Whatever has been gained in England 
in this direction lately has been gained at the bayonet 
point of abuse and strong language. The English 
schools never taught one to "place" a figure or cast 
on the canvas. They would not permit of blocking 
in either squarely or roundly. They expected you 
to begin a thing by finishing. They accustomed the 
student from the outset of his career to overlook 
subtle differences of large planes, to miss the broader 
sweep of a line for the sake of tight detailed modelling, 
and the exaggerated indenting of small bays in an 
outline. They gave gold medals to chalk drawings 
in which every little muscle was modelled up to a 
high light, whilst an important change of plane, such 
as the set-back of the chest, was shown by a wrong 
general value. It is not wonderful that people so 
taught saw only one side of the art of Velasquez, 
and that their system of teaching is now abandoned 
for one which has been, to a large extent, based OB 
the practice of the great Spanish impressionist 



CATALOGUE OF THE WORKS OF 
VELASQUEZ 

AND OF CERTAIN WORKS ATTRIBUTED TO THE 

ARTIST, ARRANGED ACCORDING TO THE 

GALLERIES IN WHICH THEY 

ARE CONTAINED 



NOTE 

Where the measurements of the pictures are given, the height 
always precedes the width* 

Where numbers are given, thus [No. 6.], they are the numbers 
of the Catalogue of the Gallery. These cannot of course be guaran- 
teed^ as alterations are not unfrequently made in the arrangement 
of the pictures. 

An asterisk denotes that the picture is reproduced in thi$ 
volume* 



CATALOGUE OF WORKS. 

AMERICA. 

METROPOLITAN MUSEUM, NEW YORK. 
A FRUIT PIECE. 

YALE COLLEGE, U.S.A, 
A MALE PORTRAIT. 

AUSTRIA. 

THE PICTURE GALLERY, VIENNA. 
THE INFANTA MARIA TERESA. 4 ft. x 3 ft. 6 in. [No. 609.] 

DON FELIPE PROSPER, SON OF PHILIP IV. (1657-1661). 

4 ft. 3 in. x 3 ft. 3 in. [No. 611.] 
PHILIP IV. 4 ft 2 in. x 2 ft. 9 in. [No. 612.] 

A YOUNG MAN HOLDING A FLOWER AND LAUGHING. 
2 ft. 9 in. x 2 ft i in. [No. 613.] 

THE INFANTA MARGARITA MARIA AS A CHILD. 4 ft 3 in. 
x 3 ft 4 in. [No. 615.] 

DON BALTAZAR CARLOS. 4 ft 3 in. x 3 ft. 4 in. [No. 616.] 

THE ARCHDUCHESS MARIA ANNA. 4 ft. 2 in. x 3 ft. 3 in. 
[No. 617.] 

ANOTHER PORTRAIT OF THE SAME. 4 ft 2 in. x 3 ft. 3 in. 
[No. 618.] 

THE INFANTA MARGARITA TERESA AS A CHILD. 3 ft. 6 in. 
x 2 ft. 10 in. [No. 619.] (See Frankfort) 

PORTRAIT OF THE SAME. 4 ft. x 3 ft.2 in. [No. 621.] 

THE QUEEN ISABELLA OF SPAIN, DAUGHTER OF HENRY 
IV., AND FIRST WIFE OF PHILIP IV. OF SPAIN (1602- 
1644). 4 ft. 4 in, x 3 ft, 4 in. [No. 622.] 
I 9 



I 3 o CATALOGUE OF WORKS 

BRITISH ISLES. 

BUCKINGHAM PALACE. 

THE INFANTE DON BALTAZAR CARLOS, ELDEST SON OF 
PHILIP IV. (1629-1686). 6 ft. 10 in. x 3 ft. 5 in. 

This picture is said to have been presented by Philip IV. 
to Charles I. of England. A boy about ten years old is 
standing, bareheaded, by a table covered with red velvet. 
He wears armour enriched with gold, a falling lace 
collar, a red scarfj red embroidered breeches, and steel 
gauntlets ; he has a baton in his right hand, and his left 
rests on a sword; at his right is a red velvet chair. 

A replica of this picture is at the Hague. 

NATIONAL GALLERY, LONDON. 

PHILIP IV. or SPAIN HUNTING THE WILD BOAR. 
6 ft 2 in. x 10 ft. 3 in. [No. 197.] 

The hunt is taking place in an enclosed piece of ground, 
hi the front of which are many spectators. 

Formerly in the Royal Palace at Madrid. Presented by 
Ferdinand VII. to the late Lord Cowley>from whom it was 
purchased in 1846. 

THE ADORATION OP THE SHEPHERDS. 7 ft 7 in. x 5 ft. 
6 in. [No. 232.] 

An early picture in the style of Spagnoletto. 
Purchased for Louis Philippe by Baron Taylor from tJie 
Count del Aguila and for the National Gallery in 1853. 

A DEAD WARRIOR. 3 ft, 5 in. x 5 ft 5 in. Engraved, in 
1864, by Flameng, for the "Gazette des Beaux-arts." 
[No. 741.] 

Known as "El Orlando Muerto," or Roland dead. On 
right the fully dressed and armed body of a man, life-size, is 
seen lying on its back, the right hand placed on his chest, 
the left resting on the hilt of his sword. The figure is 
considerably foreshortened. Over the dead man's feet, 
suspended to a branch, is a small brass lamp ; on either 
side human skulls and other bones. In the background 
storm-driven clouds, with the first faint dawn of day 
appearing. 

B Purchased in Paris, at the sale of the Pourtales Collection 
in 1865, and commonly ascribed to Velasquez. 



BRITISH ISLES 131 

PHILIP IV., KING OF SPAIN. 2 ft. i in. x i ft 8 in. 

[No. 74S-] 

Bust, life-size, in black and gold ; head seen nearly in 
full face. 

Formerly in the collection of Prince Demidoff^ Florence. 
Purchased in Paris from M. Sana in 1865. 

PHILIP IV. OF SPAIN. 6 ft 6 in. x 3 ft 8 in. [No. 1129.] 

Full length, life-size, three-quarter face turned to the right 
Dressed in a doublet and trunk hose, white sleeves and 
brown gloves. From a chain round his neck is suspended 
the Order of the Golden Fleece. In his right hand a 
letter, on which the painter's name is inscribed; his left 
hand rests on the hilt of his sword. 

Purchased in London^ at the sale of the Hamilton Palace 
pictures ) in 1882. 

* CHRIST AT THE COLUMN. 5 ft. 3 in. x 6 ft 8 in. 

[No* 1 148.] See illustration facing p. 60. 

Presented by the Riqht Hon. Sir John Sarnie, G.CJS. 
(afterwards Lord Savite), in 1883. 

* THE ADMIRAL PULIDO PAREJA. 6 ft 9. in. x 3 ft 8 in, 

[No. 1315.] See illustration facing p. 40. 

Signed and dated, 1639. Palomino is die chief authority 
for this picture. He says it was done with unusually long 
brushes. He mentions the signature and inscription. 
Another version, with accessories added later, belongs to 
the Duke of Bedford. 

Purchased in 1890 out of the Longford Castle Collection. 

CHRIST IN THE HOUSE OF MARTHA, i ft 11 in. X3 ft. 
4 in. [No. 1375.] 

On left, a kitchenmaid, half-length, stands at a table, while 
a woman standing- behind touches her on the shoulder. 
On the table a dish of fish, plate of eggs, and water jug. 
In background, through aperture in the wall, is seen the 
Saviour seated, addressing Martha, who stands, and Mary, 
who kneels before him. 

Bequeathed by the Right Hon. Sir William H. Gregory 
in 1892. 

SKETCH OF THE DUEL IN THE PRADO NEAR MADRID. a ft 
10 in. x 4 ft [No. 1376.] 



132 CATALOGUE OF WORKS 

In the foreground, four cavaliers, accompanied by an 
attendant with pony, watching a horseman, who gallops 
towards their opponents, in the middle distance. Beyond, 
a hilly country, with grey sky. 

Some of the figures in the foreground resemble the 
group in Velasquez's " Boar Hunt" 

Bequeathed by the Right Hon. Sir William H. Gregory 
in 1892. 

* A BETROTHAL. 6 ft. 7 in. x 5 ft. n in. [No. 1434.] 

At a table on an elevated platform a cavalier, with long 
hair, in dark brown cloth, and wearing a mantle on which 
is the cross of St lago* He holds a pen in his right hand ; 
his left hand rests on the shoulder of a child gaily dressed. 
Behind her, on the extreme right, a duenna or attendant. 
To the left, behind the table, are two young men. Below, 
in front of the platform, the upper part of two figures of the 
size of life are seen. 

Formerly in the possession of Sir Edwin Landseer^ RJi* 

Presented by Lord Savile in 1895. 

DULWICH COLLEGE PICTURE GALLERY. 
*PHILIP IV. 4 ft 2 in. x 3 ft. 2 in. 

Three-quarter length figure, life-size, turned to the left ; 
red doublet with silver embroidery, white silk sleeves, and 
white falling collar \ the left arm on his sword ; in left hand 
his hat ; in right his staff. 

This shows the king in his dress as Commander-in-chief 
at the age of thirty-nine or forty. Both this canvas and the 
similar one in the Lyne-Stephens collection have been 
considered as old copies of the original Fraga picture. 

From the Bouchardon and Tronchin Collections. 

HAMPTON COURT GALLERY, 
PHILIP IV. 

ELIZABETH DE BOURBON, QUEEN OF PHILIP IV. 
These are attributed to Velasquez. 

HERTFORD HOUSE GALLERY, LONDON. 
A LADY WITH A FAN. 3 ft. x 2 ft. 3 in. 
From the Aquado Collection* 

THE INFANTE DON BALTAZAR CARLOS ON HORSEBACK. 



From the Rogers Collection. 



BRITISH ISLES 133 

THE INFANTE DON BALTAZAR CARLOS, AT THREE YEARS 
OLD, WITH A BATON. 3 ft. 10 in. x 3 ft. i in. 

He is in a grey dress with violet scarf, and wears a sword. 
From the Standish Collection. 

THE INFANTE DON BALTAZAR CARLOS. 

AN INFANTA OF SPAIN. 

A standing, full-length figure in black dress with white 
sleeves. 

LANDSCAPE WITH A BOAR HUNT. A sketch for the 
National Gallery Picture. 

Bought at Lord Northwictts sofa 
PHILIP IV. 
THE COUNT-DUKE D'OLIVAREZ. 

FORSTER M. ALLEYNE, ESQ. 

DON GIOVANNI JACOPO THEODORO TRIVULZI (1597-1657). 
Created a Prince of the Empire 1622, Cardinal 1626, 
and subsequently a Grandee of Spain, Viceroy of Sicily 
1647, Governor of Milan 1656. 7 ft x 3 ft. 10 in. 

He wears a black coat, red cloak and hat, hi^h buff boots, 
and the collar of the Golden Fleece ; with right hand he 
rests baton against his thigh, his left is on his hip ; to the 
right, at his feet, are cuirass and helmet New Gall. 1895. 

THE DUKE OF BEDFORD, WOBURN ABBEY, 
BEDFORDSHIRE. 

DON ADRIAN PULIDO PAREJA. 6 ft 5 in, x 3 ft 6 in. 

Full-length, standing. Black dress with white sleeves 
and large collar and the red cross of Santiago. A naval 
engagement seen through an opening to the right 

A MAN. 

C. F. A, BREUL, ESQ. 
THE DUKE OF MEDINA, x ft. 8 in. x i ft. 6 in. 
Black dress ; wide lace collar, R.A. 1896. 

RALPH BANKES, ESQ., KINGSTON LACY, WIM- 
BORNE. 

LAS MBNI&AS. A sketch for the Madrid picture. 



I 3 4 CATALOGUE OF WORKS 

CARDINAL GASPAR DE BBRJA, ARCHBISHOP OF SEVILLE 

AND TOLEDO. 
PHILIP IV., STANDING. Painted for the first Marquis of 

Leganes. 

From the Altamira Collection. 

LORD BERWICK. 

A SPANISH INFANTE WITH DOGS. 4 ft. 4 in. x 3 ft. 4 in. 
A boy with a gun and three dogs. R~A. 1886. 

HERCULES B. BRABAZON, ESQ. 
MARIANA OF AUSTRIA, SECOND WIFE OF PHILIP IV. 
(1634-1696). 

In black dress, scalloped lace collarette, and gold chain. 
Said to have come from the Altamira Gallery. RJL. 
I875- 

MARQUIS OF BRISTOL, ICWORTH PARK. 
DON BALTAZAR CARLOS. 5 ft x 2 ft. n in. 

Full length of boy standing with a gun in his hand, and 
three dogs beside him. Brown dress and cap, lace collar, 
leather gloves. 

CHARLES BUTLER, ESQ., 3 CONNAUGHT PLACE, W. 
POPE INNOCENT X. 3 ft. 2 in. x 4 ft. 5 in. 

Seated, wearing a white linen robe with white sleeves, 
a Knen collar, red velvet cap and cape. In his left 
hand is a paper inscribed : ALLA SANT N*2 SIGH 
INNOCENTIO X9. PER. 

A replica is in the Doria Palace at Rome. 

THE EARL OF CARLISLE, CASTLE HOWARD, 
YORK. 

DON BALTAZAR CARLOS, ELDEST SON OF PHILIP IV, 
(1629-1646), AND HIS DWARF. 4 ft. 7 in. x a ft. 8 in. 

A child with fair hair and dark eyes, in black velvet 
petticoat embroidered with gold, a scan crossing his breast, 
a sword in one hand, and a staff in the other, is chasing a 
dwarf, who runs away with a silver bauble and an apple. 
A black velvet hat with white feather lies on a red cushion 
to the right 

JUAN DE PAREJA, a Moorish slave, who was in the service 



BRITISH ISLES 135 

of Velasquez, and became a great painter. 2 ft. 5 in. 

X2ft 

A mulatto, with broad white collar falling over a grey 
doublet. 
A replica of Lord Radnor's picture. See page 139. 



MARIANA OF AUSTRIA, SECOND WIFE OF PHILIP 
IV. (1634-1696). i ft. 9 in. x i ft. 5 in. 

In a white fur tippet, with chains of jewels, hair in rolls 
and adorned with butterflies. 

MISS COHEN, ADELAIDE CRESCENT, BRIGHTON. 
A MAN. 2 ft. 6 in. x 2 ft 

Half-length, life-sized. He is wearing armour, with sash 
over right shoulder, white lace collar, long black hair. 

MONS. A CASSO. 

PORTRAIT OF A YOUNG MAN. i ft. 10 in. x i ft. 4 in. 
Black dress and white collar, long hair. R.A* 1895. 

SIR FRANCIS COOK, BART., DOUGHTY HOUSE, 
RICHMOND. 

Two PEASANTS: A KITCHEN SCENE. 3 ft. 3 in. x 
3 ft 10 in. 

Woman, seated, making an omelette in an earthen pan ; 
on left a boy with melon under his arm, and offering her a 
wine-flask ; in front various utensils. 

PORTRAIT OF THE PAINTBR. i ft. 10 in. x i ft. 6 In. 

Long black hair and moustache, black coat and golilla ; 
in front hangs a gold chain with the badge of Santiago* 

Acquired by Lord Cowley when Ambassador in Madrid. 
An injured copy of this, in which ike Santiago Cross is 
omitted, is at Valencia. 



MARIANA OF AUSTRIA, SECOND WIFE OF PHILIP IV. 
(1634-1696). 2 ft. 2 in. x i ft 10 in. 

In dark green dress, with large puffed sleeves, gauze 
collarette trimmed with narrow ribbon and having large 
rosette in front Hair low on both shoulders, adorned with 
rosette of brown ribbons. 

Probably painted immediately after her marriage, as in 
wearing her hair long she has evidently not yet adopted 
the Spanish coiffure of the period. 



1 3 6 CATALOGUE OF WORKS 

A SPANISH BEGGAR. 4 ft 6 in. x 4 ft. 

Man in ragged dress, leaning on a crutch, holding in his 
right hand a wine-flask, resting on a globe on which is a 
landscape with peasants dancing before a bodega. 

On the frame is inscribed: Viva el vino leche de los 
viejps. 

brought from Spain by the French officer. General 
Caulaincourty and purchased of him by an English officer 
at Genoa in 1818. 

THE DUKE OF DEVONSHIRE, DEVONSHIRE 
HOUSE, W. 

A LADY. 3 ft. 2 in. x i ft 6 in. 

Dressed in a lemon-coloured silk gown, with wide sleeves 
and white lace collar. She holds a mantilla and hand- 
kerchie 

GEORGE DONALDSON, ESQ. 
A CHORISTER. 2 ft. 8 in. x 2 ft. 3 in. 

Half-length figure standing to the right ; white surplice ; 
holding open music-book with both hands. 

THE EARL OF ELLESMERE, BRIDGEWATER 
HOUSE. 

A NATURAL SON OF THE COUNT-DUKE D'OLIVAREZ. 

From the Altamira Collection. 
PHILIP IV. 
VELASQUEZ. 

A replica of the one at Florence. 

THE EARL OF ELGIN, BROOME HALL, FIFE. 
DON GASPAR DE GUZMAN THE COUNT-DUKE D'OLIVAREZ. 
4 ft i in. x 3 ft. 4 in. 

In armour on a white horse standing on its hind legs. 
He wears a richly-embroidered crimson scarf and brown 
boots, and carries a baton. 

INNOCENT X. 

A DOG WITH A BONE. 

SIR WILLIAM FARRER. 

VIEW OF THE ALAMEDA AT SEVILLE. 5ft.4in.X3ft.6in. 
from the Louis Philippe Collection. 



BRITISH ISLES 137 

EXECUTORS OF THE LATE SIR CLARE FORD. 

DON CASPAR DE GUZMAN THE COUNT-DUKE D'OLIVAREZ 
(1587-1643). 2 ft. 2 in. x i ft. 10 in. 

In black, wearing *.golilla or stiff linen collar, over which 
is a cloak, partly concealing the green cross of Alcantara 
on his breast 

Purchased by Richard Ford from the Madrid Gallery of 
General Meade. 

DONA MARIANA OF AUSTRIA, SECOND WIFE OF PHILIP IV. 
(1634-1696). 4 ft. 9 in. x 3 ft. 8 in. 

In black hooped dress and basque, double row of pearls 
crossing from shoulder to shoulder. A clock is on a table 
to the right 



ISABEL DE BOURBON, FIRST WIFE OF PHILIP IV. 
(1602-1644). 2 ft. i in. x i ft. 7 in. 

Three-quarter bust to the left ; black embroidered dress 
and ruff, ribbons in her hair, and a rope of pearls crossing 
her breast and shoulders. 
Painted in 1623. 
From General Meadfs Collection. 

LADY GREGORY. 

A PEASANT BOY FEEDING FOWLS. 4 ft. 8 in. x 6 ft. 5 in, 
LORD HEYTESBURY, HEYTESBURY. 

A SKETCH FOR THE PICTURE AT MADRID CALLED "L.ES 
BORRACHOS." 

[It contains only six figures, while the Madrid picture has 
nine.] 

CAPTAIN HOLFORD, HOLFORD HOUSE. 
A FIELD-MARSHAL IN ARMOUR. 
PHILIP IV. 2 ft 7 in. x 2 ft. 

Half-length figure in close-fitting' black silk habit, white 
golilla^ and the chain of the Order of the Golden Fleece. 

Two superb portraits also, perhaps the finest in England, 
one of Philip IY. standing, and the companion one of 
Olivarez. 

W. HOLMAN HUNT, ESQ. 
Sx, SEBASTIAN. Panel, i ft 6 in. x i ft. i in. 

Small, almost nude, three-quarter length figure of the 
saint, standing facing the spectator, one arm tied above 
his head, the other behind him. 



I 3 8 CATALOGUE OF WORKS 

EDWARD HUTH, ESQ. 
PHILIP IV. (1621-1665). 6 ft. 10 in. x 4 ft. i in. 

Full-length life-sized figure in black dress, wearing the 
Order of the Golden Fleece. Cloak thrown back over his 
shoulder; left hand, which rests on his sword, holds his 

hat; in his right hand is a paper inscribed "SEN OR"; 
both hands are gloved. On the right, through an open 
door, is an inner room, at the end of which is a pyx on a 
table. 
From the Louis Philippe Collection. 

DO#A ISABEL DE BOURBON, FIRST WIFE OF PHILIP IV. 
(1602-1644). 6 ft. 7 in. x 3 ft. 8 in. 

Wearing black hooped dress, with border of leaves of 
gold, white ruf^ feather in hair ; in left hand a Chinese fan. 

DON CASPAR DE GUZMAN THE COUNT-DUKE D'OLIVARBZ 
(1587-1643). 6 ft. 9 in. x 3 ft. 7 in. 

In a richly-enibroidered black dress, over which is a 
short cloak, bearing the green cross of Alcantara, a linen 
collar, low shoes, and a broad gold chain across his breast ; 
in right hand a wand, as Master of the Horse. 

MARQUIS OF LANSDOWNE, BOWOOD, CALNE. 
THE COUNT-DUKE D'OLIVAREZ. 

From the Collection of Don Manuel Godoy. 
POPE INNOCENT X. 

A replica of the Palazzo Doria Portrait. 
A CHILD IN BED. 
VELASQUEZ. 

LANDSCAPE, WITH TWO MOUNTED CAVALIERS AND OTHER 
FIGURES, SEATED, AND THE SEA IN THE BACKGROUND. 

LANDSCAPE, WITH CAVALIERS, LADIES, AND DWARFS, A 
SlERA IN THE BACKGROUND. 

These two pictures were brought into England from 
Madrid by Mr Bourke, the Danish Minister. 

J. PIERPOINT MORGAN, ESQ. 
AN INFANTA. 4 ft. 9 in. x 3 ft 4 in. 

Black dress with scarlet bow, wide lace collar, pearl 
necklace, crimson cap. R+A* 1896. 



BRITISH ISLES 139 

J. H, MACFADDEN, ESQ. 

Dotf A MARIANA OF AUSTRIA, SECOND WIFE OF PHILIP IV. 
(1634-1696). 2 ft 2 in. x i ft. 9 in. 

In a white and black dress ; gold chain over her shoulder ; 
hair adorned with red bows and red and white feather. 
From the Lyne-Stephens Collection. New Gall, 1895. 

MISS CLARA MONTALBA. 
A FLUTE-PLAYER. 2 ft. 3 in. x i ft. 8 in. 

A man in a white dress, and black cloak thrown over his 
shoulder, playing on a flute. New Gall. 1895. 

R. A. MORRITT, ESQ., ROKEBY PARK. 
* VENUS AND CUPID. 4 ft. x 5 ft 9 in. 

Full-length nude figure of Venus lying on a couch, her 
back to the spectator, and her head raised to look at herself 
in a mirror held up by a Cupid kneeling on one knee in front 
of a red curtain. RJ1. 1890. 

THE EARL OF NORTHBROOK, G.C.I.E., STRATTON, 
WINCHESTER. 

PHILIP IV. ON HORSEBACK, i ft. u in. x i ft. 5 in. 

On bay horse with four white legs, galloping to the right 
He wears armour of steel inlaid with gold, a white golilla ? a 
plumed hat with pointed brim, and a crimson scarf, which 
floats behind, and he carries a baton. 

From the Rogers Collection^ in the catalogue of which it is 
said that this is the finished sketch of the great picture under 
which it used to hang in the palace ofJBuen Retiro. 

THE DUKE OF NORTHUMBERLAND, ALNWICK 
CASTLE. 

PEDRO ALCANTARA. 

THE HON. MRS PRESTON. 
A LADY. 4 ft 2 in. x 3 ft. 2 in. 

Black dress, large black collar trimmed with yellow pearl 
necklace, and ear-rings. New Gall. 1895. 

SIR CUTHBERT QUILTER. 

DoftA MARIANA OF AUSTRIA, SECOND WIFE OF PHILIP 
IV. (1634-1696). 4 ft 10 in. x 3 ft n in. 



i 4 o CATALOGUE OF WORKS 

Similar to Sir Clare Ford's portrait, except that the hair 
Is arranged in ringlets, with red bows, and she wears a 
gold chain over her shoulders. 

From the Clifdm Collection. New GalL 1895. 

THE EARL OF RADNOR, LONGFORD CASTLE. 
JUAN DE PAREJA. [No. 88.] 
Painted in Rome in 1650. 
(See replica in the possession of Lord Carlisle!) 

SIR J. CHARLES ROBINSON, HARLEY STREET, W. 
DON FRANCISCO DE RIBAS, CORREGIDOR DE MADRID, AND 
KNIGHT OF SANTIAGO. OvaJ, 3 ft 2 in. x 2 ft. 7 in. 

Half-length life-size, full face ; black dress. He holds a 
letter in his right hand ; the jewel of the Order of Santiago 
is pendent from a ribbon on his dress, and a large 
embroidered red cross of the same order is on his sleeve. 

The face only is by Velasquez, as the picture is said to 
have been left unfinished at the death of the painter. 

JAEL AND SISERA. 3 ft n in. x 4 ft 3 in. 

Believed to have been painted in 1623, The armour in 
which Sisera is clad was painted from the actual suit made 
in the antique style for the Emperor Charles V., and still 
^reserved at Madrid. The figure in full armour on the 
right is a posthumous portrait of the great Duke of Alva ; 
that on the left of the Count-Duke d'Olivarez. 

The composition is supposed to be intended as an alle- 
gorical illustration or reference to the assassination of Wil- 
liam the Silent of Holland, the chief enemy of Spain in 
the preceding century. 

The picture bears a monogrammatic or abbreviated 
signature in the right hand lower corner. 

GEORGE SALTING, ESQ., BERKELEY SQUARE. 
CHILD AND SERVING-MAN. 3ft.sin.xift.uin. 

Young grl about three years old seated before a table, 
on which is a silver plate containing grapes. She holds 
some of the fruit in her right hand, whilst her left, sketched 
hi only, is grasped by a man who bends over her; the 
head only of the latter figure is completely finished, draperies 
and accessories only sketched in. 
From the Earl of Claris Collection. 

M. L&ON SOMZ^E. 
THE VEGETABLE SELLER. New GalL 1895. 



BRITISH ISLES 141 

THE DUKE OF SUTHERLAND, STAFFORD HOUSE, 
LONDON. 

THE DUKE OF GANDIA (?) AT A CONVENT DOOR. 
From the Soult Collection. 

ST. CHARLES BORROMEO AT A CHAPTER. 

A knight kneeling before a priest, with three knights and 
two pages. 

A ROCKY LANDSCAPE, WITH A MAN ON A WHITE HORSE, 

AND A WOMAN AND TWO BEGGARS LYING DOWN. 
ST. FRANCIS BORGIA ARRIVING AT THE JESUITS' COLLEGE. 

THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 
INNOCENT X. (1645-1655). 2 ft. 7 in. x 2 ft. 3 in. 

Half-length life-size, turned slightly to the right, and 
looking at the spectator; red cap and cape, and white 
collar. 

See similar picture in the Hermitage Gallery. 

DON FRANCISCO DE QUEVEDO Y VILLEGAS (1580-1645). 

2 ft x i ft 10 in. 

Life-size bust, looking at the spectator ; black costume, 
white golilla ; abundant greyish frizzled hair, and large 
double eyeglass on his nose. 

Poet and novelist secretary to Queen Anne, wife of 
Philip II. 

This is doubtless the portrait named by Palomino, iii. 333, 
in which the poet is described as with glasses, which he was 
accustomed to wear. 

Two BOYS. 2 ft. i in. x 3 ft 4 in. 

Life-sized Two boys seated at a table laden with dishes, 
and a jar surmounted by an orange. One boy, in a buff 
jacket, is drinking, and the other looking at him* 

A MAN. 2 ft 5 in. x 2 ft i in. 

Half-length life-sized figure, in black dress and white 
golilla. 

THE WATER CARRIER, "EL AQUADOR DE SEVILLE." 

3 ft 4 in. x 2 ft 6 in. 

A man, in tattered brown doublet, with his left hand on a 
large earthen jar, hands a glass of water to a boy, who stands 
beside a table, on which is a smaller jar ; another boy 
drinks from a pot 



142 CATALOGUE OF WORKS 

This picture was painted about 1620, at Seville, ere 
Velasquez went to Madrid. In 1780 it was in the Alcazar 
Quarto del Rey, 

King Joseph Bonaparte took it with him in his flight 
from Madrid ; but it was captured in his carriage at the 
rout of Vittoria, and afterwards presented by Ferdinand VII. 
to the Duke of Wellington. 

THE DUKE OF WESTMINSTER, K.G., GROSVENOR 
HOUSE, PARK LANE, W. 

THE INFANTE DON BALTAZAR CARLOS, ELDEST SON OP 
PHILIP IV. (1629-1686). 4 ft 9 in. x 3 ft. 3 in. 

The Prince, as a boy, wearing a costume enriched with 
silver and gold, a crimson scarf, and a plumed black hat, 
is mounted on a prancing pony in a court of the Palace, 
and attended by several officers. The King, and Queen 
Isabel, are to be seen at a balcony of the building, which 
serves as a background 

Palosnino iii. 332, refers to this picture as being in the 
possession of the Marquis de Liche, nephew of d'Olivarez. 
It was probably painted about 1641. 

A YOUNG MAN. Panel, i ft 10 in. x i ft. 5 in. 

Bust to right, life-size, looking front over his shoulder, 
wearing fur cape, cap adorned with crimson ribbons, and 
orange-coloured coat. 

This has been incorrectly called a portrait of Velasquez 
(see Curtis, 208). 

THE EARL STANHOPE. 
A GENTLEMAN. 

THE EARL OF CLARENDON. 

PHILIP IV. HUNTING THE WlLD BOAR. 

THE ALAMEDA, SEVILLE. 

THE EARL OF LECONFIELD, PETWORTH PARK. 
MALE PORTRAIT. 

THE EARL OF SOUTHESK, KINNAIRD CASTLE. 
GROUP OF PEASANTS. 

LORD KINNAIRD, ROSSIE PRIORY. 
PORTRAIT OF A GENTLEMAN. 



BRITISH ISLES IRELAND 143 

THE EARL OF WEMYSS. 

MALE PORTRAIT. SPANISH LADY. FISH AND FRUITS. 
Two LANDSCAPES. 

THE EARL OF DUDLEY. 

STA. CLARA. A MAN'S PORTRAIT. 
LORD ASHBURTON. 

PORTRAIT OF PHILIP IV. A BOAR HUNT. A DWARF 
WITH DOG AND PARROT. A LANDSCAPE. 

THE MARQUIS OF BUTE. 

FULL-LENGTH PORTRAIT OF INNOCENT X. 
BRITISH MUSEUM. 

A DRAWING OF HORSES. 

See Portfolio monograph^ Part //, p. 101. 

IRELAND. 
NATIONAL GALLERY OF IRELAND, DUBLIN. 

LEGEND OF ST. ANTHONY, i ft 8 in. x i ft 4 in. 
[No. 34.] 

The saint is represented taking small dead fishes from a 
dish, held by a young man at his side, and placing them in 
a fountain of water, which brings them to life again. The 
youth on his left looks on in an attitude of astonishment 

An early picture. 

Purchased at Leeds in 1868. 

THE INFANTA DO&A MARIA or AUSTRIA, DAUGHTER OF 
PHILIP IV. 7 ft x 3 ft 8 in. 

This picture is one of which there are many repetitions 
in Europe, and may possibly be an old copy. It has 
suffered much by cleaning. 

THE DUKE OF ABERCORN, K.G., BARONS COURT. 

DON BALTAZAR CARLOS, ELDEST SON OF PHILIP IV. 
(1629-1646). $ ft 2 in. x 3 ft 6 in. 

A lad about seven years old, wearing' black plumed hat, 
black dress embroidered with gold, falling lace collar, long 
black hose, shoes, and gauntlets, standing in a piazza, holding 
with his right hand a gun by its muzzle ; a large dog lies on 
the left, and two greyhounds on the right 



144 CATALOGUE OF WORKS 

FRANCE. 

THE LOUVRE, PARIS. 

* PORTRAIT OF THE INFANTA MARGARITA MARIA, AFTER- 

WARDS WIFE OF LEOPOLD I., EMPEROR OF GERMANY 
(1651-1673). 2 ft. 4 in. x 2 ft [No. 1731-] 

She stands almost in full face, her right hand resting on 
a chair, the left one down holding a flower. Robe is of pearl- 
coloured taffeta trimmed with black lace, a necklace and 
gold chain. The picture is inscribed in large letters, 
S L'INFANTE MARGUERITE." 

PHILIP IV. OF SPAIN (1605-1669). i ft 4 in. x 4 ft. 
[No. 1732.] 

The king stands upright, bareheaded, dressed as a 
sportsman, and holding a gun in his gloved right hand. 
Near a tree to the left is a dog. 

From the Napoleon Collection. 

PHILIP IV. OF SPAIN (1605-1665). i ft. 4 in. x i ft. 2 in. 
[No. 1733.] 

Head only. Three-quarter profile, curled-up moustache, 
and curly hair. 

* A MEETING OF THIRTEEN PERSONS, i ft. 4 in. x 2 ft. 

6 in. [No. 1734-] 

On a hillock are Spanish gentlemen in groups talking 
together ; on the left are Velasquez, Murillo, and a third 
figure. 

From the Collection of the Marquis de Fordin-Janson. 

Bought in 1851 ofM. Lauenmlle. 

QUEEN MARIANA OF AUSTRIA, SECOND WIFE OF PHILIP IV. 
2 ft. 4 in. x 2 ft. [No. 1735.] 

The child, about twelve years old, wears white satin 
bodice, on which is the badge of an order and a bow 
of ribbon. Hair adorned with pink bows, jewels, and a 
white feather. 

Bought at M. Viardots sale in 1863. 

A YOUNG WOMAN. OvaL 2 ft. 8 in. x 2 ft. x in. 
[No. 1736.] 

She wears a black-and-white dress, and her puffed hair 
falls on a white collar crossed by a double string of pearls. 



FRANCE GERMANY 145 

DON PEDRO DE ALTAMIRA, THE DEAN OF THE ROYAL 
CHAPEL IN TOLEDO, AFTERWARDS A CARDINAL. 3 ft, 
x 2 ft 6 in. [No. 1737.] 

The picture is inscribed : "& 54, DN. 1633." 

THE MUSEUM, ROUEN. 
PORTRAIT OF A MAN, ** THE GEOGRAPHER." 



GERMANY. 
ROYAL MUSEUM, BERLIN. 

ALESSANDRO DEL BORRO, ITALIAN COMMANDER. 6 ft. 9 in. 
X4ft. [No. 4I3A.] 

Purchased in Florence in 1873. 

MARIA ANNA, SISTER OF PHILIP IV. OF SPAIN. 6 ft. 8 in. 
x 3 ft. 6 in. [413-] 

Suermondt Collection, 1874. 

A SPANISH COURT DWARF. 4 ft. 7 in. X3ft. 3 in. [No. 

4i3*>-] 

Bought in Vienna in 1879. 

A WOMAN. 4 ft. x 3 ft 3 in. [No. 4I3E.] 

Purchased from Lord Dudley's Collection in 1887. 

ROYAL PICTURE GALLERY, DRESDEN. 

GASPAR DE GUZMAN THE COUNT-DUKE D'OLIVAREZ. 3 ft. 
x 2 ft. 5 in. [No. 622.] 

In black costume, and wearing the green cross of the 
Order of Alcantara. 

A MAN m BLACK COSTUME WITH A GOLD CORD. 2 ft 2 in. 
x i ft 10 in. [No. 623.] 

A MAN IN BLACK COSTUME. 3 ft 5 in. x 2 ft. 10 in. 
[No. 624.] 

STADEL GALLERY, FRANKFORT* 
CARDINAL BORGIA. 

THE INFANTA MARGARITA TERESA. 

A replica of tfa $orfrait at Vienna, 619. 

K 



146 CATALOGUE OF WORKS 

OLD PINAKOTHEK, MUNICH. 

THE ARTIST. 2 ft, x i ft. 8 in. [No 1292.] 

He wears a black vest, with standing collar, and upon 
his breast is a medal Much repainted. 
From the Dusseldorf Gallery. 

A YOUNG SPANIARD, WITHOUT BEARD, IN A BLACK 
DRESS. Canvas. 2ftnin. x 2 ft, 3 in, [No. 1293.] 
From the Dusseldorf Gallery. 

THE INFANTA DoftA MARIA MARGUERITA, DAUGHTER 
OF PHILIP IV. OF SPAIN, AS A CHILD. 4 ft. 6 in. 
x 5 ft 4 in. [No. 1294.] 

In long double dress of white and red damask ; her right 
hand rests on the edge of a table, and her left holds a 
closed fan. 

From the Palace of Dachau. Possibly by del Mazo. 

HOLLAND. 

MUSEUM, AMSTERDAM. 
THE INFANTE DON BALTAZAR CARLOS. 

MUSEUM, THE HAGUE. 
THE INFANTE DON BALTAZAR CARLOS. 
A SPANISH LANDSCAPE. 

ITALY. 

PITTI PALACE, FLORENCE. 
A MAN. 3 ft. ii in. x 2 ft. 10 in. [No. 198.] 
Half-length figure wrapped in a doak. 

PHILIP IV. OF SPAIN (1605-1665). 4 ft 2 in. x 3 ft. 

UFFIZI GALLERY, FLORENCE. 
THE ARTIST, SAID TO BE BY HIMSELF. [No. 216.] 
A SIMILAR PORTRAIT. [No. 217.] 

PHILIP IV. OF SPAIN, ON HORSEBACK (1605-1665). 
Canvas. Life-size. [No. 210.] 

The three allegorical figures hovering above, and the 
attendant bearing the helmet, are by another hand. 



HOLLAND ITALY RUSSIA 147 

PALAZZO CATANAO, GENOA 
MADONNA AND CHILD. 

BRERA GALLERY, MILAN. 

A DEAD BROTHER. Head only, on panel i ft. 8 in. 
x i ft. 3 in. [No. 320, Sala X.] 

CAPITOL PICTURE GALLERY, ROME. 
THE ARTIST, WHEN ABOUT THIRTY. [No. 80.] 

See a long note as to this picture in Venturis Catalogue. 

PALAZZO DORIA, ROME. 

MAGNIFICENT PORTRAIT OF POPE INNOCENT X. Painted 
in Italy 1649-51. 

PICTURE GALLERY, TURIN. 

PHILIP IV. OF SPAIN. Head only, i ft. 4 in. x i ft. i in. 
[No. 320.] 

PORTRAIT OF A MAN. Head only. 2 ft. i in. x i ft 6 in. 
[No. 321.] 

Acquired in 1865. 

PALAZZO DUCALE, MODENA. 
PORTRAIT OF THE DUKE OF MODENA. 

RUSSIA, 

HERMITAGE GALLERY, ST. PETERSBURG, 

PHILIP IV. OF SPAIN (1605-1665). 2 ft 2 in. x i ft. 9 in. 
[No. 420,] 

Bust only, turned a little to the tight, and looking at the 
spectator. His dark dress has diamond buttons, and he 
wears a white collar, over which is a golden chain. 

Front the Collection of Prince DenSdqffSan Donate, 

OUVARBZ, DUKE OF SAN LTJCAR, 6 ft n in. X4 ft. 
2 in. [No. 421.] 

Standing near table covered in red ; left hand on his 
sword, and right resting on the table. On his cloak is 
embroidered the Cross of Alcantara. 

Purchased from William 77. of Holland. 



148 CATALOGUE OF WORKS 

* POPE INNOCENT X. (1574-1655). i ft. 7 in. x i ft. 4 in. 
[No. 418.] 

Bust, three-quarters, to the left, wearing a red soutane, and 
also a red cape, on which is a white collar. 
Walpole Collection. 

PHILIP IV. OF SPAIN (1605-1665). 6 ft. 9 in. x 4 ft. 
[No. 419-] 

The king is standing near a table, on which is a ted 
cover. He is dressed in black velvet, and wears the Order 
of the Golden Fleece. 
Purchased in i%$ofrom William IL of Holland. 

OLIVAREZ, DUKE OF SAN LUCAR. 2 ft 3 in. x i ft 10 in. 
[No. 42^.] 

Bust only ; dressed in black, with white collar and black 
cloak, on which is the Cross of Alcantara. 

Similar to ike portraits ctt Dresden, Bowood^ and belonging 
to Sir Clare Ford. 

YOUNG BOY, LAUGHING. 10 in. x 8 in. [No. 423.] 

Justi refuses to accept this picture as the work of 
Velasquez. 

A YOUNG SPANISH PRINCE. 6 ft 9 in. x 4 ft 8 in. 

The prince, aged about six, is represented on a bay horse 
galloping to the left He wears the Order of the Golden 
Fleece, and carries a baton in his hand. 

SPAIN. 

MUSEO DEL PRADO, MADRID; 1 

From Mr. E. Kerr-Lawsorts Catalogue of the Gallery. 

*THE ADORATION OF THE MAGI. 6ft.7in.X4ft. i in. 
[No. 1054.] 

Mary, seated at the foot of an ancient construction, 
presents the Infant to the adoration of the kings, two 
of whom are presenting cups of gold, while the third awaits 
his turn. To the left of the Virgin, somewhat in the 
background, is St Joseph. 

Very early. Painted before Velasquez came to Court, 
probably about the same time as the "Water Carrier." 

*THE SAVIOUR CRUCIFIED. 8ft.ziax5ft.6in. [No. 

* *t4uwrng*d fa June 1899 on the occasion of the yd centenary 



RUSSIA SPAIN 149 

Presented in 1829 & Ferdinand VIL by the Duke of 
St. Ferdinand^ for this Museo. 

*THE CORONATION OF THE VIRGIN. 5 ft. 8 in. x 4 ft. 4 in. 
[No. xos6.] 

Mary ascends on a throne of clouds to the seat of the 
Holy Trinity ; the Father and Son, holding the crown be- 
tween them, await the immaculate Virgin ; the Holy Spirit 
in the form of a dove sheds rays of light which illuminate 
the heavens. Figures less than life-size. 

This picture was executed for the oratorio of the Queen in 
the Royal Alcazar and Palace of Madrid* 

*ST. ANTHONY VISITING ST. PAUL, 8 ft. 5 in. x 9 ft. 4 in. 
[No. 1057.] 

Painted in 1659 f* the Hermitage of St Anthony of 
the Buen Retire. 

*THE TOPERS ; commonly called " Los Borrachosu" 5 ft. 
4 in. x 7 ft. 4 in. [No. 1058.] 

The half-naked drunkard, who represents the god of the 
vintage, seated on a cask, is crowning another drunkard 
with ivy. Other intoxicated figures variously disposed. 

Purchased by Philip IV., before Velasquez made his first 
journey to Italy. 

*THE FORGE OF VULCAN. 7 ft. 3 in. xp ft. 5 in. 
[No. 1059.] 

The god Apollo appears in the forge of Vulcan, who, 
with the help of four Cyclops, is fashioning a coat of mail, 
and tells him of the adultery of his spouse Venus with 
Mars. Painted in Italy. 

Acquired for Philip IV. in 1634. 

*THE SURRENDER OF BREDA; commonly called "Las 
Lanzas." 10 ft. x n ft. u in. [No. 1060.] 

General Justino de Nassau, in humble attitude, presents 
the key to the victorious general, who with his hand on 
the shoulder of the conquered soldier, addresses him in 
flattering terms for his bravery. 

It is believed that Velasquez painted this work about the 
year 1647. 

*LAS HILANDERAS (THE SPINNERS) : Tapestry Manufactory 
of St Isabel of Madrid. 7 ft 3 in. x 9 ft, 4 w- [No. 
1061.] 



ISO CATALOGUE OF WORKS 

An old woman spins at a wheel while she turns to speak 
to a young woman at her side, standing by a red curtain. 
Other figures in the background carding the wool, etc. 

Decorated the Palace of the Bum Retire. 

*LAS MBNINAS; formerly called "The Family." 10 ft 
4in.x8ft.ii in, [No. 1062.] 

Velasquez is executing the portraits of Philip IV. and 
his second wife Mariana of Austria, who are seen reflected 
in a mirror situated at the back of the studio. The child 
Infanta Margarita Maria is attended by her Meninas, Maria 
Agustina Sarmiento and Isabel de Velasco, the latter 
supplying her with a vessel of water, and the former stand- 
ing; on the left of Maria. The dwarfs, Man Bdrbola and 
Nicolasito Pertusato, occupy the corner on the right, the 
latter with his foot resting on a large dog. 

Collection of Philip IV., Royal Palace of Madrid. 

* MERCURY AND ARGUS. 4 ft. i in. x 8 ft. i in. [No. 1063.] 

Mercury having caused Argus, the guardian of the cow 
lo, to fall asleep, cuts off the head of the animal 
Collection ofPhiUp IV., Royal Alcazar of Madrid. 

KING PHILIP III. ON HORSEBACK. 9 ft. 9 in, x 10 ft a in, 
[No. 1064.] 

Some parts of the person of this portrait seem hardly 
to be the work of Velasquez, but rather that of Pantajo, 
or of BartolomS Gonzalez. 

QUEEN MARGARITA OF AUSTRIA, WIFE OF PHILIP III. 
9 ft. 8 in. x 10 ft. [No. 1065.] 

The queen is mounted on a beautiful chestnut and white 
horse. She is dressed in a black costume, with open 
sleeves bordered with silver. Of this picture Velasquez 
painted scarcely more than the horse, the background, 
and some accessories. 

Collection of Philip IV., Palace of the Buen Retiro. 

* KING PHILIP IV, ON HORSEBACK. 9 ft. 9 in. x 10 ft. 2 in. 
[No. 1066.] 

The king is seen almost in profile; clothed in half- 
armour of burnished steel, ornamented with gold. He 
holds the sceptre in his right hand. The horse is slightly 
rearing. 

Collection of Philip IV., Palace of the Buen Retiro. 



SPAIN 151 

ISABEL OF BOURBON, SECOND WIFE OF PHILIP IV 9 ft. 
9 in. x 10 ft. 2 in. [No. 1067.] 

Mounted on a white palfrey. 

Collection of Philip IV., Palace of the Buen Retiro. 

* PRINCE DON BALTAZAR CARLOS. 6 ft. a in. x 5 ft. 7 in. 

[No. 1068.] 

Represents a child of six or seven years, mounted on 
a spirited Andalusian pony, which is on the gallop. 
A small dull copy still exists in the Dulwich Gallery. 
Collection of Philip IV.> Palace of the Buen Retiro. 

* THE COUNT-DUKE D'OLIVAREZ. 10 ft 2 in. x 7 ft. 9 in. 

[No. 1069.] 

With a plate-breast of burnished steel and gold orna- 
mentation, mounted on a spirited sorrel horse; holding 
in his right hand the general's baton. 

This canvas passed from the House of Guzman to that 
of the Marques de la Ensenada^ from whom it was acquired 
by King Charles ///., and in whose collection in the New 
Palace it figured in 1772. 

* EL INFANTE DON CARLOS. 6 ft 6 in. x 3 ft. 3 in. [No. 

1070.] 

A young man, standing. 

Collection of Philip IV., Palace of the Buen Retiro, 

* PHILIP IV. i ft. 10 in. x i ft. 5 in. [No. 1071,] 

Representing a young man of eighteen or nineteen years, 
in steel armour adorned with gold. Extended bust; 
life-size. 

Earliest known portrait of the king. Justi thinks the 
armour and red scarf added at a later date by Velasquez. 



MARIA, QUEEN OF HUNGARY, SISTER OF PHILIP 
IV. (?). i ft 10 in. x i ft. 5 in. [No. 1072.] 

Represented about twenty-five years of age. 

She married Ferdinand of Hungary, and was painted, after 
her marriage, by Velasquez, at Naples. She had been 
betrothed in 1623 to Charles Prince of Wales. 

DON CARLOS, SECOND SON OF KING PHILIP III. 6 ft. 
9 in. x 4 ft. i in. [No. 1073.] 

* KING PHILIP IV. 6 ft 2 in. x 4 ft i in. [No. 1074.] 

As sportsman, with a gun in his right hand. At his 
side is a hound. 



152 CATALOGUE OF WORKS 

One of three portraits, alike in size, and shape of the king, 
his brother Ferdinand, and his son Balthazar, dressed in 
shooting costume. 

Collection of Charles //., Royal Alcazar and Palace of 
Madrid. 

INFANTE DON FERNANDO OF AUSTRIA, BROTHER OF 
PHILIP IV. 6 ft 2 in. x 6 ft 4 in. [No. 1075.] 

Standing in a field, in hunting costume with a gun 
in his hands. At his side a beautiful cinnamon-coloured 
hound. 

Collection of Charles II. in 1686. 

DON BALTAZAR CARLOS, AT Six YEARS OF AGE. 6 ft 2 in. 

x 3 ft. 4 in. [No. 1076.] 

Standing, in hunting costume, and holding his gun, which 
rests on the ground. At one side a large setter, and 
on the other a greyhound. 

KING PHILIP IV., OF ABOUT FIFTY YEARS OF AGE. 
7ft6in. X4ft3in. [No. 1077.] 



Standing, in half-armour, with the sceptre hi his hand, 
and a stout lion at his feet. 

Came from the Escorial to this Museum in 1845. 

* DONA MARIANA OF AUSTRIA, SECOND WIFE OF PHILIP IV. 
6 ft 9 in. x 4 ft i in. [No. 1078.] 

Her right hand rests on the back of an easy-chair, while 
the left falls naturally. She is dressed in black silk. 

Collection of Charles //., Palace of the Retiro (?). Came 
from the Escorial in 1845. 



MARIANA OF AVSTRIA. 7ft6wj.X4ft.3in. 
[No. 1079.] 

Repetition of No. 1078, with variation hi the disposition 
of the curtain. 

KING PHILIP IV., AT AN ADVANCED AGE. Life-sized bust 
2 ft 3 in. x i ft 10 in. [No. 1080.] 

PHILIP IV., IN PRAYER. 6 ft 9 in. x 4 ft 9 in. [No. 1081.] 

Kneeling, with his hat in his left hand ; dressed in black. 
Entire figure. 
From the Royal Monastery of the Escorial. 

DO&A. MARIANA OF AUSTRIA, SECOND WIFE OF PHILIP IV* 
IN PRAYER. 6 ft. 9 in. x 4 ft 9 in. [No. 1082.] 



SPAIN 153 

Kneeling, with her two hands on the cushion, and in 
them a prayer-book. 

Companion to and from the same source as the preceding 
picture. 

DON BALTAZAR CARLOS, SON or PHILIP IV. 6 ft 9 in. 
x 4 ft 8 in. [No. 1083.] 

A youth, of some fourteen years, standing. 
Collection of Charles //., Palace of the Buen Retiro. 

* MARIA TERESA OF AUSTRIA, DAUGHTER OF PHILIP IV., 

AFTERWARDS QUEEN OF FRANCE. 6 ft IO in. X 4 ft 9 in. 

[No. 1084,] 

Apparently of about ten years of age. Standing, with 
a rose in her left hand, and a fine cambric handkerchief 
hi her right Full-length; life-size. 

Saved from the fire of the old Alcazar in 1734, 

DON LUIS DE GONGORO OF ARGOTE, CORDOVAN POET. 

Life-sized bust i ft. n in. x i ft 6 in. [No. 1085.] 

*DONA JUANA PACHECO, WIFE OF VELASQUEZ. 2 ft. 
x i ft. 7 in. [No. 1086.] 

Life-sized bust, with part of the left hand. 

Sometimes called "The Sybil" 

Collection of Isabel Farnese^ Palace of San Ildefonso. 

* DAUGHTER OF VELASQUEZ, INFANT GIRL. Half-figure; 

life-size- i ft. 10 in. x i ft. 6 in. [No. 1087.] 

There is no certainty that this represents either Francisca 
or Ignatia, the two daughters of Velasquez. There is 
another canvas, however, in the Prado, very like this one, 
and the two may be portraits of the two sisters. 

INFANT GIRL, i ft u in. x i ft 6 in. [No. 1088.] 

Apparently a sister of the child represented in the pre- 
ceding canvas. Half-figure ; life-size. 

ELDERLY LADY. 3 ft. 5 in. x 3 ft 6 in. [No. 1089.] 

Half-figure ; life-size. The authenticity of this work 
is very doubtful. 
Sawed from the fire of the old Castle in 1734- 

DON ANTONIO ALONSO PIMENTBL, NINTH EARL (CONDE) 
OF BENAVENTE, LORD OF THE BEDCHAMBER OF PHILIP 
IV. 3 ft 6 in. x a ft 10 in, [No. 1090.] 

Collection of Isabel Fames*, Palace of San Ildefonso. 



154 CATALOGUE OF WORKS 

*THE SCULPTOR MARTINEZ MONTANA. 3 ft. 6 in. x 2 ft. 
10 in. [No. 1091.] 

Erroneously supposed to be Alonso Caao ; represented 
modelling a bust of Philip IV. Half-length ; unfinished. 

*PABULLOS DE VALLADOLID, A BUFFOON OF PHILIP IV. 
6 ft. 9 in. x 4 ft. [No. 1092.] 

Life-sized figure. His name is mentioned in company 
with those of Cristobel de Pernia, and other Jesters or 
Players. 

Collection of Philip IV.> Palace of the Buen Retiro. 

* CRISTOBAL DE PERNIA, CALLED BABARROJA. 6 ft. 5 in. 
x 3 ft. ii in. [No. 1093.] 

Full-length figure ; unfinished. Pernia in the character 
and costume of a Moorish Corsair. 
Collection of Charles //., Palace of the Buen Retiro. 

A JUGGLER OF PHILIP IV., NAMED DON JUAN DE AUSTRIA. 
6 ft. 10 in. x 4 ft. [No. 1094.] 

A life-sized figure, standing. In the background is seen 
the sea, with a blazing ship. 

Collection of Philip IV. and Charles //., Palace of the 
Buen Retiro. 

*THE DWARF EL PRIMO. 3 ft. 6 in. x 2 ft 8 in. [No, 
1095-] 

Seated on a stone in the middle of a desert and 
mountainous field, with a large slouch hat on his head. 

The head and books, according to Justi, belong to an 
earlier period than the background, which was painted 
probably over an interior. 

Collection of Philip IK, Royal Castle and Palace of 
Madrid. 

THE DWARF DON SEBASTIAN DE MORRA (?). 3 ft 5 in. 
x 2 ft. 8 in. [No. 1096.] 

Seated on the floor. Figure life-size. 
From the same source as No. 1095. 

*THB DWARF ANTONIO THE ENGLISHMAN (?). 4 ft, 7 in. 
x 3 ft. 5 in. [No. 1097.] 

At his side a mastiff bitch, and in his right hand, which 
falls naturally, he holds his slouch hat adorned with plumes. 
Full-length figure, and of life-size. 

Collection of Charles //., Torre de la Parada (?). 



SPAIN 155 

*EL Nifto DE VALLE^AS. 3 ft 6 in. x 2 ft. 8 in. [No. 
1098,] 

In a field, bareheaded, and with a pack of cards in his 
hands. Life-size. 

Collection of Charles //., Torre de la Parada (?). 

EL BOBO DE CORIA. 3 ft 4 in. x 2 ft 8 in. [No. 1099.] 

Seated on a stone, with a gourd at either side, and his 
hands upon his right knee. Entire figure ; life-size. 

This picture decorated the Torre de la Parada till the 
time of Charles III. The subject of the picture was no 
doubt one of the many Court fools or homhres de placer of 
Philip IV. J 

*-<EsoP. 4 ft. 10 in. x 3 "ft. [No. noo.] 

Standing in the middle of a dismantled room. Entire 
figure. 

Collection ofPMlip IV., Torre de la Parada. 

*MOENIPPUS. 5 ft. 10 in. x 3 ft. [No. noi.] 

Standing in a disgarnished room, with books and a 
parchment at his feet Enveloped in a black cloak. Entire 
figure. 

Collection of Charles //., Torre de la Parada. 

*THB GOB MARS. 5 ft 10 in. x 3 ft i in. [No. 1102.] 

Seated on the edge of a bed, with his left foot on a 
pine footstool, his left elbow resting on his knee, and 
his cheek upon his hand; nude, with the exception of 
a blue drapery across the body, and a rose-coloured cloak 
thrown over shoulders. 

One of the few nudes of Velasquez ; it hung in the Torre 
de la Parada. It seems little later than the "Vulcan," 
perhaps just before the "Christ at the Pillar." 

Collection of Philip IV., Royal Castle, and Palace of 
Madrid^ or Torre de la Parada. 

A MAN. Life-sized bust i ft. 3 in. x i ft. 2 in. [No. 
1103.] 

Collection of Philip V.> Palace of San Ildefonso. 

A MAN. Life-sized bust i ft. 10 in. x i ft. 3 in. [No, 
1*04.] 

ALONSO MARTINEZ DE ESPINAR, VALET-BE-CHAMBRE OF 
PRINCE BALTAZAR CARLOS, a ft. 5 in. x i ft. 5 in. 
[No. 1105.] 



IS6 CATALOGUE OF WORKS 

Dressed in black. Life-sized bust 

Colkction of Isabel Farnese, Palace of San Udefonso. 

*VIEW IN THE GARDEN OF THE VILLA MEDICI AT ROME 
i ft. 5 in. x i ft. 3 in. [No. 1106.] 

Taken during the two months which Velasquez spent at 
the Villa Medici on his first visit to Italy. 

Colkction of Philip IV., Royal Alcazar and Palace of 
Madrid. 

* VIEW IN THE GARDEN OF ARANJUEZ. x ft 5 in. x i ft. 
3 in. [No. 1107.] 

Companion to and from the same source as No. 1 106. 

VIEW OF THE ARCH OF TITUS IN THE COMPO VACCINO OF 
ROME. 4 ft. 10 in. x 3 ft. 7 in. [No. 1108.] 

Taken in the Via Sacra. 

Painted probably in Madrid from some note made in 
Rome while Velasquez was on Ms first visit to Italy. 

VIEW OF THE FOUNTAIN OF THE TRITONS IN THE GARDEN 
OF THE ISLAND OF ARANJUEZ. 8 ft. i in. x 7 ft. 3 in. 
[No. 1109.] 

// is believed that Velasquez painted this picture, or at 
least made the studies for it, in the year 1642, during 
Philip IV.'s journey to Saragossa. 

VIEW OF THE CALLS DE LA REINA, IN ARANJUEZ. 7 ft. 
ii in. x 6 ft. 7 in. [No. mo.] 

Probably executed about the same time as No. 1109, that 
is, in 1642. 

VIEW OF THE BUEN RETIRO, AS IT APPEARED IN THE TlME 

OF PHILIP IV. 4 ft. 9 in. x 3 ft. 8 in. [No. mi.] 

VIEW OF A ROYAL RESIDENCE. 4ft. 10 in. x 3 ft. 7 in. 
[No. 1 1 12.] 

Possibly the old Alcazar and Palace of Madrid, from the 
garden of the emperors or of the prioress. 

STUDY OF LANDSCAPE AND PERSPECTIVE. 4 ft. 10 in. x 3 ft. 
7 in. [No. 1113,] 

In the heavens the god Mercury is clearing the air with 
the caduceus in his hand ; in the lower part of the picture, 
other figures. 



SPAIN 157 

STUDY OF LANDSCAPE AND PERSPECTIVE. 4 ft. 10 in. 
X3 ft. 7 in. [No. 1114.] 

Sewed from the fire of the old Alcazar of Madrid in 1734. 

STUDY OF THE HEAD OF AN OLD MAN. i ft. 3 in. x i ft. 
[No. 1115.] 

Life-size. Authenticity doubtful. 

Collection of Philip V.^ Palace of San ttdefonso. 

PORTRAIT OF PRINCE BALTHAZAR CARLOS, aged six, stand- 
ing bareheaded in a room opening on to a balcony with 
balustrade. 

ROYAL PALACE, MADRID. 

THE AQUADOR OF SEVILLE. 

Attributed to Velasquez. 

Replica of the Duke of Wellington's picture. 

Three other pictures in this gallery are : 

1. THE HEAD OF A WOMAN. 

2. A HAND HOLDING A PAPER (part of a lost picture). 

3. A SMALL PORTRAIT OF OLIVAREZ. 

THE ESCORIAL, MADRID. 

JOSEPH'S BRETHREN SHOWING HIS BLOOD-STAINED COAT, 
Pointed at Rome in 1630. 

SENOR LEANDRO ALVEAR. 
THE GRAPE-GATHERER. 

SENOR AURELIANO DE BERUETR. 
ST. PETER. 

THE DUKE OF MEDINA CELLI, MADRID. 
A WOMAN, 



158 CATALOGUE OF WORKS 

THE DUKE OF VILLA HERMOSA. 
PORTRAIT OF DON DIEGO DEL CORRAL Y ARELLANO. 

THE DUKE OF ALBA, LIRIA PALACE, MADRID. 
DoftA ANTONIA, DAUGHTER OF DON Luis DE HARO. 

THE INFANTA MARGARITA TERESA. 

ARCHBISHOP'S PALACE, SEVILLE. 
THE VIRGIN PRESENTING THE CHASUBLE TO ST. ILDEFONSE. 

DONA MARIA DEL VALLE GOURALEZ (veuve de 
GARZON). 

CHRIST AND THE DISCIPLES AT EMMAUS. 

THE MUSEUM, VALENCIA. 
THE PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST. 
See engraving by Fortuity* 

SWEDEN. 
THE PALACE, GRYPSHOLM. 

PHILIP IV. AS A YOUTH. 

A gift from Pimental, the Spanish Ambassador, to 
Queen Christina. 



INDEX 



Admiral Pulido, 20, 25 
Adoration of the Magi, 19, 53 
MsQp, 20, 21, 23, 48, 53, 86, 91 
Anne of Austria, 12, 13 
Antonio el Xnglese, 91 
Avenue of the Queen, 60, 93 

Balthazar-Carlos, the King's son, 

15 ; dies, 16 ; portrait, 20, 21 
Boar-Hunt, The, 20 
.5*tf of Philip in Armour, 19 

Cano, Alenzo, 16 ; portrait, 17 
Carducho, Court-painter, n, 113 
Caxesi, Eugenio, n ; compared 

with Velasquez, 27 
Chevreuse, Madame de, portrait 

painted by Velasquez, 16 " 
Christ at the Pillar, 20, 71 
Collier, John, on the technique of 

art, 107 

Coronation of the Virgin, 57 
Corot, similarity of Velasquez 

to Whistler and, 60, in 
Crucifixion, The, 2O, So 

Don-Carlos, see Balthasar-C&rlos 
Duran, as a teacher of art, 104, 
105, 107, 108 ; on art, 106 ; on 
artists, 109; on colouring, no 



Impressionistic Painting, 120-125 
Innocent X., portrait, 17, 20 
Isabella de Bourbon, 12 
Italy, Velasquez visits, 14, 17 

Joseph's Coat, 14 

Justi, Carlo, on Velasquez, 9, 61 ; 

&&.#& Fountain of the Tritons, 

61 

King as a Sportsman, 20 

Landscapes of Velasquez, 6 1 
Lavery, John, on Velasquez, 95, 96 
Leonardo, on modelling, 76; on 
the technique of art, 106 

Maria Teresa, Birth of, 15 

Maria Teresa, 20, 23, 53, 54, 71, 

84, 89-92 
Mary of Hungary, portrait painted 

by Velasquez, 14 
Mary Tudor, portrait by Antonio 

More, 99, loo 
Mazo, J. B. del, 91 
Meninas, Las, 20, 21, 23, 24, 28, 

, 32, 45, 50-53, 57-59, 71, 78, 



Expulsion 



on of the 
iUpHL, 15 



the Moriscoes by 



Forge of Vulcan, 14, *9, 49, 53, 7* 
Fountain of the Tritons, 61 ; Carlo 
Justi on, 61 

Gonzales, Court-painter, ix 
Greco, influenced Velasquez, 98 

Henner, the painter, in 
Herrera, Francisco de, taught Velas- 
quez, zo 

andcraSj Las, 20, 21, 23, 53, 
57-59, 7i 72, 88, 89, 92 
159 



Modelling of Velasquez's pictures, 

compared, 74, 75; Leonardo 

on, 76 
Modena, Duke of, portrait painted 

by Velasquez, 16 
Moenippus, 20, 21, 23, 48, 53, 70, 

71, 86, 91, 93 
Michael Angelo and his Art, 113, 

1x4 

Millet, xxx 
Montafiz, Martinez, x6; portrait, 

20, 2X, 25, 85, 9 

Murillo, pupil of Velasquez, 16 
Nardi, Court-painter, xx 

Old Masters, Velasquez compared 
with, 97, 98 



i6o 



INDEX 



Olivarez, Count, ir, 12, ; disgraced, 
15, 16 ; portrait, 20, 21, 54, 92 

Pablillos de Valladolid, 20 

Pacheco, Francisco, taught Velas- 
quez, 10, II ; his daughter 
marries Velasquez, n 

Painting, styles of, 42-45 

Pelouse, Leon, 115, 116 

Perspective, objects seen in, 116, 
117 

Philip III., dies, II 

Philip IV., 7 ; Velasquez and, 7, 
13 ; his brothers, 12 ; portraits 
painted by Velasquez, 16, 19, 
20, 21, 46, 54, 80, 81, 84, 85, 
92 

Portrait-painting, 6 

Prince Ferdinand, 20 

' Queen Mariana, 20 

Quevedo, portrait by Velasquez, 17 

Raphael, not admired by Velai- 
quez, 98 

Realistic Painting, on, 121, 122 

Repulse of the English at 
Caxesi's picture, 15, 27 

Ribera, Velasquez and, 14, 17 

Riding School, The, 20 

Rubens, at the Court of Spain, 13 ; 
and Velasquez, 13, 14; com- 
pared with Velasquez, 27, 51 

Seville, Velasquez born at, 10 

Shepherds, The, 19 

Silva, Diego Rodriguez de, grand- 
father of Velasquefc, 10 

Silva, Juan de, father of Velasquez, 
10 

Spain, scenery in, 4, 5 

Surrender of Breda, 15, 19-21, 23- 
27, 29, 54 

Technique in Art, 34, 35 

Titian, his Assumption, 52, 53; 
Velasquez's admiration of, 98, 
99 ; his Francois Premier, 100 



Topers, The, 19, 29, 31, 48, 53 ; 
*and Las Meninas compared, 79 

Velasquez, not appreciated, 235 
Philip IV. and, 7, 13 ; as a 
painter, 7, 8 ; Carl Justi's work 
on, 9; born at Seville, 10; 
date of birth, 10; his grand- 
father, 10; his father, 10; his 
first master, 10; pupil of Fran- 
cisco Pacheco, 10 ; marries, II ; 
appointed Court-painter, 11 j 
and Rubens, 13, 14; visits 
Italy, 14, 17 ; taught Murillo, 
16; his friends, 16; Court 
honours for, 17 ; his death, 18 ; 
his pictures, 19, 20 ; his style, 
21, 32 ; compared with Caxesi, 
27; compared with Rubens; 
27, 51 ; method of painting, 
42-46 ; his style and Whistler's, 
48 ; his impressionistic com- 
positions, 53 ; his realistic ' 
' compositions, 53 ; his similarity 
to Corot and Whistler, 60 ; his 
landscapes, 61 ; modelling of 
his pictures compared, 74, 75 ; 
an impressionist, 78, 79, in, 
125 ; his ensemble, 8 1 ; his art, 
82, 83 ; his portraits of Philip 
IV., 84, 85 ; John Lavery on, 
95, 96 ; and old masters com- 
pared, 97, 98; influenced by 
Greco, 98 ; admiration of Ti- 
tian, 98, 99 ; does not admire 
Raphael, 98 ; writers on, 103 ; 
Sir David Wilkie on, 103 ; and 
modern artists, 103, 104, in; 
a realistic painter, 107 

Venus, 21, 53, 71 

Water Carrier, The, 19 
Whistler, similarity between Velas- 
quez and, 48, 60 ; his pictures, 

112 

Wilkie, Sir David, on Velasquez, 
103 



THE, RIVERSIDE PRESS LIMITED, EDINBURGH.