Art in England

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His intimate and fellow-sculptor--a painter also--Adrien Charpentier,
executed a characteristic portrait of Roubiliac. He is represented at
work upon a small-size model of his Shakespeare. He is touching the eye
of the figure with his modelling tool, and the task, one of some
delicacy and difficulty, adds to the animation of the operator. His
head, where it is not covered by the fanciful loose head-dress affected
by poets and artists of the period, is bald: possibly shaven, for the
convenience of wig-wearing, after the custom of the time. His dress is
disordered, his bosom bare, his wristbands loose. Had Roubiliac carved
his own statue in stone, it would probably, in treatment, have closely
followed Charpentier's picture.

A portrait of Roubiliac, painted by himself, was sold for
three-and-sixpence only at the sale of his effects. The prices, indeed,
at this sale seem to have been desperately low. There were no
antiquities or objects of _virtu_ brought to the hammer: and Mr. Canto
was not the auctioneer! A copy by Reynolds of the Chandos portrait of
Shakespeare, with seven other pictures, was knocked down for ten
shillings only, the father of John Flaxman being the purchaser. Reynolds
had painted the picture as a present to his friend, Mr. Roubiliac. It
afterwards became the property of Mr. Edmond Malone.

THE RISE OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY.

The famous artists of the Continent almost invariably organize schools
of art, converting their studios into miniature academies, surrounding
themselves with pupils and disciples who sit at their feet, listen to
their teaching, assist them by painting for them the less important
portions of their works, adopt their processes, and follow their styles
of drawing and colouring. There is something to be said for the system.
It is an advantage to the young student to be constantly brought into
contact with a real master of the art; to have the opportunity of
working under his supervision, and, on the other hand, of watching him
at his labours, and of witnessing the birth, growth, and completion of
his best pictures. The main objection to the plan is that it may develop
merely imitative ability rather than stimulate genuine originality; that
it inclines the student to follow too scrupulously a beaten track rather
than strike out a fresh pathway for himself. He may reproduce the
virtues of his exemplar's art, but he will certainly copy its vices as
well. And then the difficult question arises: when is he to assert his
independence? At what period in his career is he to cease leaning on his
teacher, and to pursue his own devices unaided and alone? He may have
tied his leading-strings so tightly about him that liberty of thought
and action has become almost impossible to him, and the free use of his
limbs, so to speak, has gone from him. It is quite true that the artist
should be a student all his life; but then he should be a student of art
generally, not of any one professor of art in particular, or he will be
simply the pupil of a great master to the end of the chapter, never a
great master himself.

Objection to a system of instruction that may tend to perpetuate
mannerism, to cramp originality, and fetter genius, has of late years
led to considerable opposition to art-academies generally, whenever more
is contemplated by them than the mere school-teaching of the pupil, and
the affording him assistance at the outset of his professional life.
Haydon was fond of declaring 'that academies all over Europe were
signals of distress thrown out to stop the decay of art,' but that they
had failed egregiously, and rather hastened the result they had intended
to hinder. Fuseli asserted that 'all schools of painters, whether public
or private, supported by patronage or individual contribution, were and
are symptoms of art in distress, monuments of public dereliction and
decay of taste.' He proceeded afterwards to defend such schools,
however, as the asylum of the student, the theatre of his exercises, the
repositories of the materials, the archives of art, whose principles
their officers were bound to maintain, and for the preservation of which
they were responsible to posterity, etc. Dr. Waagen was of opinion that
the academic system gave an artificial elevation to mediocrity; that it
deadened natural talent, and introduced into the freedom of art an
unsalutary degree of authority and interference. The late Horace Vernet
entertained similar views, recommending the suppression of the French
Academy at Rome. M. Say (the Adam Smith of France) held that all
Academies were in truth hostile to the fine arts; and a report of a
committee of the English House of Commons (1836) went far in the same
direction, venturing to predict the probability 'that the principle of
free competition in art as in commerce would ultimately triumph over all
artificial institutions,' and that 'governments might at some future
period content themselves with holding out prizes or commissions to the
different but co-equal societies of artists, and refuse the dangerous
gift of pre-eminence to any.'

In England the school of the individual great artist upon the
continental plan seems to have had no counterpart. Favourite
portrait-painters have, now and then, employed a staff of subordinates
to paint the draperies, and fill in the backgrounds of their works, but
the persons thus employed have been mechanicians rather than artists.
Northcote was the pupil of Reynolds, and Harlowe was taught by Lawrence;
but in neither case was there much attempt at maintaining a school of
manner, as it would be understood out of England. The works of Northcote
and Harlowe contain traces of the teaching of their preceptors little
more than do the productions of their contemporaries, and they certainly
bequeathed no distinct traditions of style to their successors. In
England the foundation of a National Academy, or of an institution in
any measure manifesting the characteristics of a National Academy, took
place long subsequent to the rise of the foreign Academies. And the
English Royal Academy, as at present constituted, cannot be said to
occupy a position analogous to that of foreign academies. As was
expressed in the Report of the Parliamentary Committee of 1836: 'It is
not a public national institution like the French Academy, since it
lives by exhibition and takes money at the door, yet it possesses many
of the privileges of a public body without bearing the direct burthen of
public responsibility.' Or, as was succinctly explained by Mr.
Westmacott, himself an academician, before the commissioners appointed
in 1863 to inquire into the position of the Royal Academy: 'When we wish
not to be interfered with we are private, when we want anything of the
public we are public;' and then he goes on to say: 'The Academy is
distinctly a private institution, and, admitting it is not perfect,
doing great public good all for nothing,' _i.e_., without charge. Mr.
Westmacott was unconsciously pleading guilty to Haydon's accusation that
'the academicians constituted in truth a private society, which they
always put forward when you wish to examine them, and they always
proclaim themselves a public society when they want to benefit by any
public vote.'

For long years the sentiment had prevailed in England that art was no
affair of the State, had no sort of interest for the governing power of
the country, or indeed for the general public; and it was, of course,
left to those persons to whom an Academy of Art was in any way a matter
of necessity or importance, to found such an institution for themselves.
Certainly the encouragement given to the painter during the first half
of the eighteenth century was insignificant enough. He was viewed much
as the astrologer or the alchemist; his proceedings, the world argued,
were sufficiently foolish and futile, but still harmless; he was not
particularly in anybody's way, and therefore it was not worth anybody's
while to molest or displace him. But as for patronizing, or valuing, or
rewarding him, turning upon him the light of the royal countenance, or
cheering him with popular applause, those were quite other matters.
King, and Court, and people had vastly different things to think about.
He was just suffered, not succoured in any way. He must get on as well
as he could, educating, improving, helping himself. As for aid from the
State, that was absolutely out of the question.

For the benefit of his brother artists and of himself, therefore, Sir
Godfrey Kneller, who had lived in happier times, so far as art was
concerned--for the Stuarts had some love for poetry and painting, though
the Hanoverian sovereigns had not--instituted a private drawing Academy
in London in the year 1711. Of this Academy, Vertue, who collected the
materials for the 'Anecdotes of Painting,' which Walpole digested and
published, was one of the first members, studying there some years; and
it was probably of this institution that Hogarth wrote in 1760,
describing it as founded by some gentlemen painters of the first rank,
who, in imitation of the Academy of France, introduced certain forms and
solemnities into their proceedings which were objectionable to several
members, and led to divisions and jealousies in the general body.
Finally, the president and his followers, finding themselves caricatured
and opposed, locked out their opponents and closed the Academy.

Sir James Thornhill, who had headed the most important of the parties
into which the institution had become divided, and who held the
appointment of historical painter to George I., then submitted to the
Government of the day a plan for the foundation of a Royal Academy which
should encourage and educate the young artists of England. He proposed
that a suitable building, with apartments for resident professors,
should be erected at the upper end of the King's Mews, Charing Cross.
The cost of carrying out this plan was estimated at little more than
three thousand pounds; but although Lord Treasurer Halifax gave his
support, the Government negatived the proposition, and declined to find
the necessary means.

Sir James, not altogether daunted by his ill success, determined to do
what he could on his own responsibility, and without aid from the
Treasury. He opened a Drawing Academy, therefore, at his house in James
Street, Covent Garden, on the east side, where, as a writer in 1804
describes the situation, 'the back offices and painting-room abutted
upon Langford's (then Cock's) Auction Room in the Piazza,' and gave
tickets to all who desired admission. It is to be feared that Sir
James's generosity was somewhat abused. Certain it is that dissensions
arose in his Academy as in Kneller's; that one Vandrebank headed an
opposition party, and at length withdrew with his adherents to found a
rival school. According to Hogarth, 'he converted an old meeting-house
into an Academy, and introduced a female figure to make it more inviting
to subscribers.' But this establishment did not last long, the
subscriptions were not forthcoming, and the fittings and furniture of
the school were seized for debt. Upon the death of Sir James, in 1734,
his Academy was also closed.

But a school had now become indispensably necessary to the artists of
the day. After a time they forgot their differences, and again united.
Hogarth had become possessed of his father-in-law Sir James Thornhill's
furniture, which he was willing to lend to an association of artists
founding a new school; a subscription was accordingly arranged, and a
room 'large enough to admit of thirty or forty persons drawing after a
naked figure,' was hired in the house of Mr. Hyde, a painter in
Greyhound Court, Arundel Street, Strand. Hogarth, attributing the
failure of preceding academies to an assumption of superior authority on
the part of members whose subscriptions were of largest amount, proposed
that all members should equally contribute to the maintenance of the
establishment, and should possess equal rights of voting on all
questions relative to its affairs. For many years this academy, which,
in 1738, removed to more convenient premises[6] in Peter's Court, St.
Martin's Lane, existed in a most satisfactory manner. To this school of
Hogarth's, as we may fairly consider it, the majority of the English
painters of the reign of George II. and the early part of George III.,
owed much of their art education. Perhaps the success of the school was
due in great part to the discretion and good management of the artist
who had been nominated its chief instructor: George Michael Moser, a
gold and silver chaser, enameller and modeller, Swiss by birth.
Something also it owed to its unpretentious yet practical and
utilitarian character. The artists were bound together by mutual
convenience; their school, conferring no degrees, aiming at no
distinction, was of equal advantage to all. It was strictly a private
institution, in no way attracting to itself public notice or asking for
aid from the public purse.

[6] Roubiliac's first workshop.

In 1734 there had been founded in England the Dilettanti Society,
composed of noblemen and gentlemen who had travelled abroad, and
professed a taste for the fine arts. In 1749, this society found itself
rich and influential enough to contemplate the establishment of an
academy of art, and even took steps to obtain a site on the south side
of Cavendish Square, and to purchase Portland stone for the erection
there of a building adapted to the purpose, on the plan of the Temple at
Pola. The society then put itself in correspondence with the School of
Painters in St. Martin's Lane, asking for co-operation and assistance in
the carrying out of the project. The painters, however, according to Sir
Robert Strange's account of the transaction, held back: they objected to
aid in the formation of an academy of art which was not to be under the
absolute rule and government of artists. Thereupon the Dilettanti
Society declined to find funds for the foundation of an institute over
which, when completed, they were to possess no influence whatever, in
the management of which they were to be absolutely without voice; and
the negotiation was accordingly brought to an abrupt conclusion. (We may
note here that, curiously enough, the Royal Commission of 1863 proposed,
in some degree, a reversion to this abortive project, and recommended
the introduction of a lay element into the governing body of the
present Royal Academy.)

The proposal of the Dilettanti Society, though rejected, seems yet,
after the lapse of a few years, to have tempted the painters in St.
Martin's Lane to enlarge the boundaries of their institution. In 1753
they fancied the time had come when, with the support of the general
body of artists in England, an effort might be made to found a national
academy. A circular was addressed to all the well-known artists by
Francis Milner Newton, the secretary of the school in St. Martin's Lane,
calling their attention to a scheme for establishing a public academy of
painting, sculpture and architecture, for erecting a suitable building,
receiving subscriptions, appointing professors, making regulations for
the instruction of students, etc. The circular concluded by requesting
attendance at a meeting to be held at the Turk's Head, in Gerard Street,
Soho, when the election of thirteen painters, three sculptors, one
chaser, two engravers, and two architects, in all twenty-one, for the
purposes of the academy, would be proceeded with. But this scheme met
with little support, and was abandoned. Its projectors, defeated and
ridiculed--the subjects of several caricatures of the period--had to
fall back again among their fellow-artists, probably with little
advantage to the harmony of the general body.

Yet the plan of an academy, though it had met with very inconsiderable
encouragement, was not suffered to die out absolutely; somehow the
thing took root, and even grew, in a measure, making no very great sign
of vitality however. But it produced a pamphlet now and then--found
unexpected advocates here and there, dragged on a sickly, invalid sort
of existence. In 1755, a committee of artists resumed the idea, but this
time they appeared to the sympathies of the general public, proposing to
raise an academy as charitable institutions are established, by aid of
popular benevolence, and to apply for a charter of incorporation from
the Crown, the terms of the charter being formally drawn up, and even
published. The prospectus made handsome mention of the pecuniary
assistance which had been some time before proffered by the Dilettanti
Society; whereupon the society renewed its promise of support, and
re-opened negotiations with the committee of artists. But difficulties
again arose. Sir Robert Strange, who attended the meetings of the
parties, found on the part of the Dilettanti Society 'that generosity
and benevolence which are peculiar to true greatness;' but on the side
of the majority of the artists, he regretted to observe 'motives
apparently limited to their own views and ambition to govern.' Again the
negotiation was broken off, the project went to pieces, and now the hope
of establishing a national academy in England seemed in its worst
plight--hopeless--gone down to zero.

In 1757, Hogarth, on the resignation of his brother-in-law, Mr.
Thornhill, was appointed, in the sixtieth year of his age, painter to
the king. Hogarth, it may be noted, had always opposed the attempt to
found an academy. He supported the plan of an art-school, deeming such
an institution of practical value to the painter. But he appears to have
thought that an academy would only multiply portrait painters, of whom
there was quite a sufficiency, would not create a demand for works of
real art-value, or improve the taste of patrons in that respect. In
1758, Hogarth's idea of an art-school met with unexpected support in the
opening of the Duke of Richmond's Gallery of Casts and Statues at
Whitehall. Invitation to students was given by public advertisements.
For a time Cipriani gave instruction in the gallery, and it is recorded
that the result was a purer taste among British artists in the drawing
of the human figure than they had previously displayed.

And now help was to come to the plan of an academy from a most
unexpected source, in a most accidental way. In the reign of George II.,
if little was done for art and artists, great interest was displayed in
works of public benevolence. From that period dates the rise of very
many national hospitals and charitable institutions of various kinds.
Among others, the London Foundling Hospital, which was incorporated in
1739, and received especial favour and support from the legislature and
the public. To the sympathy with the objects of this charity displayed
by the artists, are attributable the first recognition of them by the
nation as a community meriting regard and assistance; and ultimately
the rise and progress of an Academy of Art in England.

In 1740, when Handel came forward to aid the funds of the charity by the
performance of his oratorios, Hogarth presented to the governors of the
institution his famous portrait of Captain Coram, and designed an
emblematical decoration to be placed over the chief entrance of the
hospital, then in Hatton Garden. In 1745, the west wing of the present
edifice in Guildford Street being completed, other artists followed
Hogarth's example, and presented, or promised to present, to the
hospital specimens of their art. In 1746, the grateful court of the
charity elected its artist-benefactors--Hayman, Hudson, Allan Ramsay,
Lambert (the scene-painter), Wilson, Moser, Pine, Hogarth, and Rysbrack
(the sculptor), among them--to be governors, with leave to dine at the
hospital, at their own expense, on the 5th of November in each year, to
commemorate the landing of King William III., and 'to consider what
further ornaments might be added to the building without expense to the
charity.' For many years the artists availed themselves of this
opportunity--met, dined, drank claret and punch, and discussed
professional affairs to their hearts' content.

The Foundling had become quite a pet charity with Parliament and people.
It was assisted by donations from the Crown and grants from Government;
while voluntary contributions from the public flowed liberally into its
treasury. From 1756 to 1760 nearly 15,000 children were received into
the asylum. The open, uninquiring system, still existing on the
Continent, then prevailed. A basket hung at the gate, in which to
deposit the child, on whose behalf the aid of the institution was to be
invoked; a bell was then rung to give notice was forthwith received and
provided for. The hospital to the officers of the establishment, and the
foundling became the resort and rendezvous of all classes. The public
seemed never to weary of watching over and visiting its _proteges_, and
the donations of the artists which adorned the walls of the hospital,
were greatly admired and talked about, and soon became of themselves a
decided source of attraction. The nation began to appreciate the fact
that it possessed some really excellent English painters, and the
painters made the discovery that there existed a large public interested
in them and in their doings, and prepared to give favour and support to
an exhibition of works of art.

In November 1759, a meeting was held at the Turk's Head, Gerard Street,
Soho, which seems to have been a sort of house of call for artists, as
well as for literary men,[7] when it was resolved that once in every
year, at a place to be appointed by a committee, chosen annually, for
carrying the design into execution, there should be held an exhibition
of the performances of painters, sculptors, architects, engravers,
chasers, seal-cutters, and medallists, the profits to be expended in
charity--'towards the support of those artists whose age and
infirmities, or other lawful hindrances, prevent them from being any
longer candidates for fame;' the charge for admittance to be one
shilling each person. A committee of sixteen was chosen, consisting of
six painters, two sculptors, two architects, two engravers, one
seal-cutter, one chaser, one medallist, and the secretary, to which
office Mr. Francis William Newton had been appointed, to carry out the
views of the meeting.

[7] It was at the Turk's Head that were held the meetings of the famous
LITERARY CLUB, founded by Reynolds. Johnson, Burke, Dr. Nugent,
Beauclerk, Langton, Goldsmith, Mr. Chamier, and Sir John Hawkins were
the other original members.

Application was then made to the Society of Arts, which had been
established five years previously by Mr. Shipley, of Northampton
(brother of the bishop of St. Asaph), to permit the use of its rooms,
then in the Strand, opposite Beaufort Buildings, for the purposes of the
proposed exhibition. The Society gave its consent, deciding that the
period of exhibition should be from the 21st of April to the 8th of May,
and only objecting to the proposal that money should be taken at the
doors for admission. This objection was removed by admitting the public
gratis, and charging sixpence for the catalogue of the works of art on
view. Sixty-nine artists sent works to the exhibition. The number of
works exhibited was 130. The Society's rooms were crowded to
inconvenience; the exhibition was a great success. There was a sale of
6582 catalogues; the proceeds enabling the committee to defray all
expenses, to purchase L100 consols, and to retain a small balance in
hand. No record was kept of the number of visitors to the exhibition;
the purchase of catalogues was not obligatory, so the amount sold is
hardly a clue to the number of visitors. Many doubtless dispensed with
catalogues altogether, and many borrowed from their friends. But the
results of the exhibition satisfied its warmest well-wishers.

There was but one drawback to the general satisfaction. The Society of
Arts conceived itself at liberty to exhibit among the other works the
drawings of certain of its students, whose industry and merit had
entitled them to gold medals and other rewards. The untutored public,
misled by the talk about prizes, persisted in regarding these juvenile
essays as the works judged by the _cognoscenti_ to be the most
meritorious of the whole exhibition, and rendered them the homage of
extraordinary attention and admiration accordingly. Mature professors of
art had to endure the mortification of finding their best productions
passed over by the unskilful multitude, and the highest praises awarded
to mere beginners. The newspapers of the day--newspapers have never been
very learned in art matters--fell into the same delusion, and in their
notices of the exhibition, paid attention only to these most over-rated
prize-holders.

But, altogether, the artists had good cause to be satisfied. They had
held the first exhibition of works of art in England, and the exhibition
had thoroughly succeeded. They had opened up a new source of profit to
themselves in the display of their productions. They had obtained from
the general public recognition of themselves and their profession. The
Crown might be negligent of them, the State might be apathetic as to
affairs of art, aristocratic patrons might be led astray by the _ignis
fatuus_ of love of the old masters, by the fashionable tastes for
antiquities; but here was 'the million' on the side of its artist
compatriots; the voice of the nation had declared itself in favour of
the nation's art. Really there seemed at last to be hope, if not
something more, for the English painter, and the long-looked-for English
academy appeared fairly discernible on the horizon.

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