New-York daily tribune. [volume] (New-York [N.Y.]) 1842-1866, 1851-04-17

ing that having eyes be saw not, and without
medte,ing anew the striking tory OF Turner'S re-
mark 10 an anxious lady who surveyed the scene
be was painting, and who ventured TO say" But
Mr. Turner, don't zee all that in Nature -
MADAM, don't you wish you couldl' It's evi.
/ dent that no can paint proper portrait until
/ be understands the persons characterize IS paint
! ing.
We have rather wandered away from his Ex-
( cellency's pictures But it was, perhaps, as well
/ to indicate what we meant by saying that be
| painted the appearance rather than the spirit Of
! Nature,-that be and bis school, both in poetry
and painting are rather used by Nature than use
/ il. They are pleased with the repose OF wood
with the contemplatve cattle that quietly Craze
along its sunny edges or lie drowsily winking in
the shade. They "pore upon the brook that bah
bles by"-and musily dream in sOothed and aim
! less reverie-while the slow sunlight shifts
along the wood paths, and the tinke Of the
! returning kline sounds the honely dirge Of day
In the same way and moved by the same spirit
they love simple rocks and trees for their own
/ sake We shall find proofs of this upon the Ac
I sdemys walls Simple studies are almost as dear
and beautiful to them as pictures. Indeed their
! pictures are often only elaborated studies. They
are soothed rather than stimulated by Nature. II
/ they paint Autumn rural scenes we see the rain
bow reaches Of foliage, the husking, the golden
/ corn, the buxom girls the braTny boys-We hear
! the creaking vain, the measured hail-but we do
( not see the Esprit that haun.s the years last
! hours" nor hear the fail.
&c. making moan
For tie Summer oyerhTowa'
! These however, are what we do want to hear
and see in the picture. The artist, il he have an
artistc vocation, has finer ear and finer eye,
( living behind his finer hand, and giving the pro.
! found ard permanent value to the works Of that
/ hand. He must use his skill TO show Us what no
skill Of ours could show. Were the forms and
lines that lie under our eyes never so gracefully
( rendered upon his canvas, they could only serve
as memoranda TO the memory-and the instinct
/ Of every man who has any thought at all about
the matter, assures him that the fine work of art
/ whether statue, or song, or picture, is something
larger and loyelier than that.
/ This susterest demand Of Art only few men
in history have ever satisfied; and the various
schools of artists have been as it were, the long
and leSsening shadows of the great leaders. Ar
if the triumph Of Art could be attained by sci
ence. Ttians color is ansyzed and disputed
and derpaired Of as if all Titian's knowledge Of
the value of pigments would enable imam to paint
aeood picture. 1t is tendency to Eard the merest
msterialism, and you could as soon write poems
because you had dictionary Of rhymes, as paint
well because you had mastered the palette. The
artist must, first Of ALL see, or lie can never make
others see.
1t will be evident from this strain Of remark
that we consider what may be called the I3ealists
in Art superior to the RealistS--using the words,
however, not absolutely, but simply to indicate
the two classes, and meaning by tho lirst, those
who are gifted with tho vision as well as the fac
uty, divine, and by the last, those who, with the
same human vision, as ourselves, have also the
fee~Its eF -o-~@-Aly .sS~hi"s mo iaminH' l~~A
scApo OF this latter class, the English school
of which Mr.. DURAND is most faithful dis
ciple, is a fair exponent, and has hitherto rest
cd content in that success The same fact IS
observable in the history Of English poetry
But Turner will undoubtedly exercise the same
influence upon Landscape Art in England that
Wordsworth las exercised, and is exercising
upon its Poetry Among ourselves, the late Mr..
COLE may be mentioned as IN ldeaist in Land.
scape Art for nothing can be more unjust than the
suppostion that the Imagination has little to do
with landscape painting. The artist like the
poet, must see with his imagination, if he would
achieve an universal success. What was called
the poetry of Mr.. Coles pictures was their
sweetest secret, and ocoaSioned directly the spec
tator satisfaction.
Mr.. DURAND, on the other hand, is Realiat-
using the word as already qualified. In all his
works we have the same clinging, unquestioning
satisfied love of Nature-of her forms, OF her de-
tail, Of her general quiet effects. 1t il always
Summer, always silence upon his canvas. His
pictures breathe peace. W are lotererS along
gades and listeners to waterfalls. Broad mead
ows dotted with cattle groups OF heayily.ioli
aged trees, ripping or Emooth.hOwing streams,
lesEhidden spire, range o graceful highlands
whose outline swims away into dreamy haze
these are the forms he loves He is close stu
dent of American nature, but the landscape Of lis
pictures has usually the English air o. cultivated
repose. This is observable in Nos. 70 and a03
and in No, ls3, 1.-THE two Oaks No. 81, again
is entirely Amer can. This ST. lie Of sentiment in
the contemplation Of Nature engenders. however
two isults in neutrality-suspicious. and excess o.
detail The very tenderness Of the perception O.
the scene stays the artists hand, lest he should
partial in his power and sacrifice one point to
another. But this very love OF all points and fear
Of Partially, drives him into detail, into care.
iulne,s Of finish, that shows the same result
a want Of broad vigor which, however, the
loveliest landscape in nature always has
M -. ..al
ful student. Whether no man can properly
paint en- oak tree until ne has mastered
Botany, as subtle critics say, may be yet cues