The Press. — London, England, 1858-10-23 00:00:00

to the ground, and things that have cost years of earnest thought and loving labour are gone for ever! On the following day, the fumes of incense and the smoke of a thousand tapers roll up from the altars, and, uniting with the fetid exhalations of an Italian crowd, cutdle over the walls. Talk of London smoke ! why, Italian neglect, in diff e rence, and ignorance have done more to deprive the world drogue of its noblest and moat precious monuments of art than could be accomplished by the atmospheres of ten Lontlons ! The able and careful editors of the last edition of " Vuari's Lives' have indicated in font-notes the fate of the works mentioned by the biographer as existing in his day. The extent to which the work of devastation has been carried is amazing. Half, if not more than half, of the great frescoes of the four teenth and fifteenth centuries are hopelessly and curtly described as " sono periti," " " appena rimane qualche ves tigio," " dato di bianco," la chiesa fu disfetta." Some years ago a few zealous men who felt a due re verence for these records of their country's glory protested against their barbarous treatment. Intelligent travellers in dignantly exposed it. At last the Italian Governments and the heads of churches and convents, finding that a few pence might be gained by the preservation ofobjects which attracted the curiosity of strangers, suddenly appreciated their im portance. But they let loose upon the devoted monuments a plague more terrible than any that had as yet swept over them. An army of restorers was raised in every city of Italy, and recruited by every dauber who had interest or means to obtain the privilege of earning a miserable pit tance by repainting and repairing. Their work has proved more mischievous than even that of time and neglect. In the one case the life of the old painter was taken away ; but a pleasant tradition of his worthiness still remained : in the other, his fame, the thing which had been dearest to hint, and for which he had worked so earnestly and so well, was destroyed for ever. Ignorant men and so-called con noisseurs held hint responsible for bad drawing, bad colouring, and bad sentiment, and the name of many a great 16 aster has thus become a bye-word. Of the spirit and the style in which these restora tions were often executed, the writer, who is evidently one personally conversant with the subject, tells some curious anecdotes. Among the treasures of mediaeval art concealed beneath coats of modern whitewash, it was suspected that :a portrait of the immortal Dante, by Giotto, might :be discovered on the walls of the chapel of the I'edesta (subsequently divided into prison cells) in Bargello at Florence. The perseverance of as enthusiastic admirer of both poet and limner—Mr. Kirkup, an Englishman—succeeded in overcoming the insouciance of the Tuscan authorities, and bringing to light the precious relic, of which we have this further account : The recovered portrait confirmed in moat respects the tr►ditional representations of the poet. When it was painted Dante was still in the middle of the pathway of his life. His delicate but strongly marked features bad not yet been impressed with that sternness and melan choly which his country's ingratitude and hopeless exile afterwards wrote upon them. They are calm, sweet, and dignified, becoming the man whom Giotto hal placed among the blessed. The subsequent history of the portrait —lf we can trust the story which has been related to us— illustrates the fate of such works in Italy. A nail had been driven ivto the eye before the whitewash was removed; it was carelessly pulled out, bringing with it the surrounding plaster. Every one who visited the painting put a finger, of course, into the hole, which at 'hist became so large that it threatened to consume the , enure head. The restorer was then called in to make a fresh eye • the new feature did not agree with the rest of the face, which was accordingly altered to match it. The poet's dress being of three colours—green, white, and red, the symbol of Italian liberalism —was offensive to the Government ; it was changed by order, and Dante was hued with more loyal garments. The published tracing of the head was made after these alterations. The autho rities, with that narrow-minded jealousy which charac terizes the modern rulers of Italy, bail previously refused permission to any one to e spy or trace the original except the r'-starer. Fortunately, Mr. Kirkup had bribed a jailer to lock hint up fair the night in the prison before the fresco had been restored, and thus succeeded in obtaining a fac simile of the head as painted . uy Giotto. In the Church of S. Francesco, in Arazzo, the legend of " the invention of the true cross" was Portrayed by one of the most eminent fresco painters of the fifteenth century, Pietro della rancesca. Distinguished by beauty and artistic effect, among the groups illustrative of the story, was a sleeping Constantine, with his wakeful page seated by his side : Three years ago the " operajo," or churchwarden, of 8. Francesco gave orders to enlarge the window of the choir containing these frescoes. Parts of the wall upon which they were painted were knocked away ; into other Parts iron bands were inserted to strengthen the masonry. Fragments of brick and plaster as they fell destroyed or injured the paintings beneath, which were left altogether unprotected. Amongst the things destroyed was the head of the watching page. An Englishman who chanced to be present, warmly remonstrated against this disgraceful act Vandalism. The authorities, somewhat roused by the indignant protest of the foreigner, appealed to the restorer.—" Bah !" sa id h e , s h rugging up hi s s h ou ld ers , it is a thing of no importance ; I will put in another head!" THE PRESS, OCTOBER 23, 1858. Another instance of the desecration to which the relics of Italy's golden age are subjected, is connected with the masterpiece of the same painter, executed by him in his own native town of Borgo S. Sepolcro It is the Resurrection of our Lord. The Saviour, bearing aloft the red-crossed banner of victory, and gathering the grave-clothes about him, leaves the tomb with solemn step. There is an awful and unearthly majesty in His countenance, in the large eyes fixed on vacancy, and in the still placid features. Beneath, buried in a death-like sleep, lie the guards. The cold grey morning creeps above the hills, and the dark trees stand motionless in the twilight. The glory of the rising Christ, and of His shining garments, casts a pale subdued light around Him. No painter has ever so painted the scene ! And what does the reader suppose has befallen this sublime conception ? The hall which it adorns, once that of the Palace of the "Conservatori," has been converted into the storehouse for the pledges deposited in the Monte di Pieta, the Government pawubroking establishment. The windows have been carefully blocked up to exclude light and air. Copper caldrons, pots and pans, instru ments of agriculture, spinning wheels, and balls of cotton twist—all the furniture of an Italian peasant's cottage, upon which a few pence can be borrowed—are piled against. the walls. If a stranger should ask to see the fresco, he must wait the convenience of the several directors of the institution, who have separate keys as a check upon each other's honesty. Such being the present melancholy fate of those noble monuments of mediwval art, it is some consolation to know that it has become the practice to remove frescoes of interest from the walls on which they were painted, either for sale, or for preservation in public museums. The process, however, is one of considerable difficulty and delicacy, and involves, moreover, in such of them as were executed in part only in " buon fresco" and finished in "tempera," the risk of losing the finest touches, or destroying the painting altogether. In addition to these measures for the preservation of the originals, two modern inventions, photography and chro molithography, are being successfully employed in producing copies, in the dissemination of which the Arundel Society gives valuable aid by its publications. Whether the ulterior object of the Society, and of others who are labouring in the same cause, that of reviving the art of fresco-painting, espe cially in connection with architectural decoration, will ever be attained, must for the present, we fear, be considered rather doubtful. The result of the attempts to effect such a revival in Ger many, in connection with the dreams of political and social regeneration that roused the Teutonic mind to activity during the earlier part of the present century, is decidedly unpromising for the restoration of an art which, as is ably shown in the article before us, had its root in the depths of the national and religious life of the country and of the age that gave it birth. Nor can we in this country, notwithstanding the efforts that have been made to obtain for high art the posi tion which of right it ought to occupy, boast as yet of any great progress. The account given by the reviewer of the fresco paintings in the Houses of Parliament is not of a very gratifying na ture ; the discussions on the estimates on the floor of the House of Commons are not calculated to elevate the taste, or to beget any violent en thusiasm, for art; the materialistic and mer cantile spirit of the age is not favourable to the development of deep feeling or of lofty conception; and the religious element in •ur national life,—the most potent, the absolutely indispensable influence in the revival of an art essentially Christian in its origin,—has received and continues to receive such deep wounds in the miserable conflicts between the foppery of clerical mediwvalism and the coarseness of iconoclastic Puritanism, that from this quarter obstruction rather than encouragement is to be looked for at present. For these reasons we cannot help fear ing that the writer of the essay before us is too sanguine in his expectations; at the same time, looking at the few indications of advance to a higher standard among the artists engaged both in the Houses of Parliament and in Lincoln's-inn Hall. and at the earnestness in their cause which the apostles of the proposed revival exhibit, we may perhaps venture to indulge in brighter hopes than the present aspect of affairs would seem to warrant ; and most hearty, at all events, is our wish that the noble aspirations of the writer whose remarks we have perused with so much pleasure, and those of the Society whose services he has brought under public notice, may even tually be crowned with success. Vusital gtbittir. Mozarts "Requiem" and First Mass. London: Robert Cocks and Co. THE reissue of these great works, at prices within the reach of almost all classes of the com munity, cannot fail to excite general interest in the musical world, and the new editions will doubtless be bought up rapidly, as were their predecessors. Such admirable, taste-improving publications cannot succeed too well, and all acquainted with the usual policy of the trade, which is to sell flimsy things dear rather than substantial ones cheap, and who wish with us to see music of the highest and best kind become popular in this country, must admit that Messrs. Cocks, who are contributing largely, as they have been for some years past, to the dissemina tion of a knowledge of and love for the im perishable classics of music, are really entitled to the warm sympathy and liberal support of the public. We observe that Mr. John Bishop of Cheltenham, the English editor of the two beautiful compositions immediately under no tice, calls the Mass in C Mozart's first, in conformity with a custom, the authority for which is derived from the catalogue of Breitkopf and Mae!, the universally-known Leipsic publishers. This figuring is nevertheless quite erroneous; for the work in question is in reality No. 16 of the authentic Masses signed Mozart. The genuine No. 1 is a "Missy Brevis" iu G, for four voices, " string-quartet," and organ, dated Vienna, 1768. No. 2, also a " Missa Brevis," in I) minor, is for four voices, two violins, and organ, dated Salsburg, Jan. 14, 1769. No. 3 (Oct., 1769), in C, is for the usual number of voices, the string-quartet, two trumpets, kettle drums, and organ. No. 4is likewise in C, but for voices and organ only. This is complete no further than the " Sanctus," beyond which no more than nine bars are written. No. sis in F, for voices, two violins, and organ. This, too, is broken off abruptly in the " Credo," at the words, " Sedet act dexteram patris." No. 6, in C minor, is for voices, string-quartet, two oboes, four trumpets, three trombones, kettle-drums, and organ. The dates of the three last-named works are not exactly known, but they were unques tionably composed between 1769 and 1772. No. 7 (June, 1773), in C, is for voices, two violins, two oboes, four trumpets, kettle-drums, and organ. No. 8 (June, 1774), in F, is for voices, two violins, and organ. No. 9 (1775 or 1776), in C, is for voices, two violins, two trumpets, drums, and organ. No. 10 (1776), entitled " Missa Longa," is likewise in C, and for voices, two oboes, two violins, two trumpets, and organ. No. 11 (Nov., 1776), another "Missy Longa," and also in C, is for voices, two violins, two oboes, two trumpets, three trombones, drums, and organ. This Mass is published by Breitkopf and Hertel, of Leipsic, as No. 11., but incomplete, and with some wretched adulterations. The tempi, too, in many instances, differ widely front those marked in the original score possessed by Herr Andr6, of Offenbach. No. 12 (Dec., 1776), for voices, two violins, two trumpets, drums, and organ, is again in C; as is also No. 13 (Dec., 1776), written for the same voices and instruments. No. 14 (probably 1777), in B flat, is for four voices (concertante), two violins, and organ. No. 15 (1777 or 1778), in D, is for voices, two violins, and organ ; and NO. 16, in C, for voices, two violins, two oboes, two trumpets, three trom bones, kettle-drums, and organ, dated March 23, 1779, is the so-called No. 1 of Messrs. Breitkopf and Hertel, and their English fol lowers. The Leipsic edition is moreover faulty in many other respects. The horn parts are wanting altogether, the entrees of the trombone parts published as additions are not indicated, and there are certain notal errors in the score. To all English admirers of Mozart—and who amongst us does not admire this most perfect of masters ?—the above facts, hitherto but very little known in this country, will doubtless prove highly interesting ; and if Messrs. Cocks would but obtain and bring out in their own excellent and reasonable way all, or some of the works of which we have spoken, as predecessors of the so-called No. 1, and likewise the following numbers from 16 to 19, so as to give the whole of Mozart's Masses complete and incomplete, accord 1035