Part 11

THE HARP OF THE WINDS

HOMER MARTIN (1836-1897)

About a dozen years ago Europe began to wonder if America had any art worth considering. She invited us to send samples of our paintings that her critics might judge of our work. Among the pictures selected was Homer Martin's "The Harp of the Winds." At once Europe saw that an American artist had painted a masterpiece.

This scene is on the River Seine, a short distance from Paris. Was anything ever more simple? Slender willow-trees almost leafless, bare rocks with a few scrubby bushes, a tiny village sheltered in a curve of the river--what is there to suggest a picture? And yet something grips us. We seem to be at the beginnings of creation. Nature is confiding in us. We are hearing the winds play on the harp to the listening river. See how lovingly the water mirrors those harp strings all sparkly with gold and green! I wonder if these willows make a harp or a lyre with their tall stalks reaching to the sky? Do you remember how, when Mercury found a tortoise, he took the shell and made holes on both sides and strung nine strings across it--one for each Muse--and gave it to Apollo? I think this Harp of the Winds has nine strings in memory of Mercury's lyre.

THE TRIBUTE MONEY

TITIAN, OR TIZIANO VECELLI (1477-1576)

Every child must know "The Tribute Money," painted by Titian, for no artist understood the scene better than he did. Remember that the bad men in Palestine were determined to find something that Jesus, the Christ, had done against the Roman Government so they could trap him. At last they sent one in authority to question him.

But Jesus said, "Bring me a penny, that I may see it." And they brought him a penny.

And Jesus said, "Whose is this image and superscription?"

And the man was forced to say, "Cæsar's."

Then Jesus made that famous reply that people use so often to-day: "Render to Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's, and to God the things that are God's."

Titian shows the moment when the tax-gatherer must say that the penny belonged to Cæsar, the Roman emperor. It had Cæsar's portrait on it and Cæsar's demands written on it. Look carefully at the two faces and the two hands, and tell me what you think of the two men as Titian shows them to us.

FIG. 35. THE TRIBUTE MONEY. TITIAN. DRESDEN GALLERY]

THE MAIDS OF HONOR

DIEGO RODRIGUEZ DE SILVA Y VELASQUEZ (1599-1660)

If it had not been for Velasquez we should know very little about the little princes and princesses of Spain in the time of Philip IV, about the middle of the sixteenth century. He made many portraits of these children, especially of the little Princess Margarita.

One day when Velasquez was painting a portrait of Philip IV, the king's little daughter Margarita came into the room attended by her maids of honor and a splendid dog. The king was so delighted with the little group that he told Velasquez to make a picture of them just as they stood there before him. Now look at the picture and you will see in the looking-glass at the back of the room the reflection of the king and the queen. At the easel stands Velasquez, the artist, with his palette and brushes. The wee fair-haired princess is the center of the group. The strange-looking little women, her maids of honor, are dwarfs. And see what a magnificent fellow the dog is, lying so contentedly on the floor right in front of us.

When the picture was finished, and the people went to see it, many of them asked, "Where is the picture?" The little Margarita and her maids are so alive and those people standing around seem so real that no one thought they could be painted on canvas.

Velasquez made such wonderfully real likenesses that some one told this story of one: One day the King came to Velasquez's studio and seeing, as he supposed, one of his admirals whom he had sent to take a command a few days before, he spoke angrily:

"What! still here? Did I not command you to depart? Why have you not obeyed?" Of course the admiral did not answer, and then the king found that he had been angry at a portrait.

THE NYMPHS

JEAN BAPTISTE CAMILLE COROT (1796-1875)

Everybody loved Père Corot--Papa Corot, as he was called. His happy manner and lovely smile won for him the name of the "happy one." I want you to know what Papa Corot says, in a letter to a friend, about himself and his painting. He writes:

"Look you, it is charming, the day of a landscapist. He gets up at three in the morning, before sunrise, goes and sits under a tree, and watches and waits. Not much can be seen at first. Nature is behind a veil. Everything smells sweet.

"Ping! a ray of yellow light shoots up. The veil is torn, and meadow and valley and hill are peeping through the rent.

"Bing, bing! the sun's first ray--another ray--and the flowers awake and drink a drop of quivering dew. The leaves feel cold and move to and fro. Under the leaves unseen birds are singing softly. The flowers are saying their morning prayers.

"Bam! the sun has risen. Bam! a peasant crosses the field with a cart and oxen. Ding! ding! says the bell of the ram that leads the flock of sheep.

"Bam! bam! all bursts--all glitters--all is full of light, blond and caressing as yet. The flowers raise their heads. It is adorable. I paint! I paint!