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Page 77
After a delightful half hour of gliding through broad and narrow canals,
they landed in front of the Church of San Rocco, and passed into the
alleyway from which is the entrance of the famous Scuola. As they
stepped into its sumptuous hall, Miss Sherman remarked:--
"I see that Mr. Ruskin says whatever the traveller may miss in Venice,
he should give much time and thought to this building."
"Mr. Ruskin has championed Tintoretto with the same fervor that he has
expended upon Turner," replied Mr. Sumner, smiling. "I think we should
season his judgments concerning both artists with the 'grain of salt'.
"But," continued he, as he saw all were waiting for something further,
"there can be no doubt that Tintoretto was a great painter and a notable
man. To read the story of his life,--his struggles to learn the
art,--his assurance of the worth of his own work, and his colossal
ambitions, is as interesting as any romance."
"I was delighted," interpolated Malcom, "with the story of his first
painting for this building, and the audacity that gained for him the
commission to paint one picture for it every year of his remaining life.
"And here are about fifty of them," resumed Mr. Sumner, "in which we may
study both his strength and his weakness. No painter was ever more
uneven than he. No painter ever produced works that present such wide
contrasts as do his. He could use color as consummately as Titian
himself, as we see in his masterpiece, _The Miracle of St. Mark_, in the
Academy; yet many of his pictures are almost destitute of it. He could
vie with the greatest masters in composition; yet there are many
instances where he seems to have thrown the elements of his pictures
wildly together without a single thought of artistic proportions and
relations. In some works he has shown himself a thorough master of
technique; in others his rendering is so careless that we are ashamed
for him. But all this cannot alter the fact that he is surpassingly
great in originality, in nobility of conception, and in a certain poetic
feeling,--and these are qualities that set the royal insignia upon any
artist."
"I cannot help feeling the motion, the action, of all these wild
figures," exclaimed Bettina, as she stood looking about in a helpless
way. "I seem to be buffetted on all sides, and the pictures mix
themselves with each other."
"It is no wonder. No painter was ever so extravagant as he could be.
There is a headlong dash, an impetuous action in his figures when he
wills, that remind us of Michael Angelo; but Tintoretto's imagination
far outran that of the great Florentine master. Yet there is a singular
sense of reality in his most imaginative works, and it is this, I
think, that is sometimes so confusing and overwhelming. His paintings
here are so many that I cannot talk long about any particular one. I
will only try to tell you what qualities to look for--then you must, for
yourselves, endeavor to understand and come under the spell of the
personality of the artist.
"In the first place," he continued, "look for power--power of
conception, of invention, and of execution. For instance, give your
entire attention for a few minutes to this _Massacre of the Innocents_.
See the perfect delirium of feeling and action--the frenzy of men,
women, and children. Look also for originality of invention.
Combinations and situations unthought of by other painters are here.
There is never even a hint of plagiarism in Tintoretto's work. In his
own native strength he seizes our imagination and, at will, plays upon
it. We shudder, yet are fascinated."
"Oh, uncle! I don't like it!" cried Margery, almost tearfully. "I don't
wish to see any more of his pictures, if all are like these."
"Madge--puss," said Malcom, "this is a horrible subject. Not all will be
like this."
"No, dear," said her mother, sympathizingly, "I don't like it either.
You and I will choose the pictures we are to look at long. There are
many of Tintoretto's that you will enjoy, I know,--many from which you
can learn about the artist, as well as from such as these."
"We cannot doubt the dramatic power of Tintoretto, can we?" asked Mr.
Sumner, with a suppressed twinkle of the eye. "What shall we look for
next? Let us ascend this beautiful staircase. Now look at this
_Visitation_. Is it not truly fine, charming in composition, graceful in
action, agreeable in color, and true and noble in expression?"
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