The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1870-01-05

peIlhuhDle canvas 10 depict ODJocJS IN ue- |
tail was, of course, impossible. In the deeps
below the special groups of foliage disappear,
blending in a rich but indistinct mass of ver-
dure In the remoteness of the plain the city
becomes a white gleAm and the river, the
ancient Abana, probably, sends up ftful
flashes of light from the dark bosom of the
forest The hour chosen for the scene is the
closing of the day. The westering sun sinks
behind the mountain chain, leaving its east
ern declivity in shadows which explains the
apparent want of texture and even of form
in the rocks, making them look soft like
wool as they flow down into the plain. The
craggy points alone are defined by the sun
beams that gild them, as they pour through
the gorge and throw q trail of splendor
across the verdant sea. This trail of light is
the picture. The huge shadow of the noun
tain darkens the left side of the valley extin
gushing all but the faint glimmerings of the
irrepressible river, so that the broad band of
glory, making clear course, strikes full upon
the white domes and minarets of the city. No
person who has not gazed on such a scene
can judge well of the artists fidelity in de-
scribing it, No eye but that of an artist can
take in the striking features of its beauty.
MIR. Church has fine powers of observation, a
remarkable faculty of retaining Impressions
made on the retina, and singular skill in
the use OF his pencil All his pictures are
VI llRnt, no OH6 uhS Debu 30 SucCeSS-
fnl as he in catching the effects of light in
the rainbow, on the waterfall, on the near
foliage or the distant mountain peak. But
Mr.. Church has forfeited our confidence by
his ambitious efforts to produce startling
effects. Year by year he seems to us to have
been departing from the sober truth of art
and courting the illusions of artifce. His
purpose has been to surprise and startle
rather than to teach, and in pursuing this
l. l.. IL Il.
noble or legitimate. We think he has done
so in this instance AS we remarked before,
he has escaped the necessity of drawing his
rocks delineating his buildings, or indicating
his masses of trees. The license of generali-
Zation has been freely resorted to in order
that attention might not be diverted from the
one grand feature, the track of the sunbeam
But is the sunbeams uccessfully painted? Are
its effects ably developed? Does the picture
convey to the visitor the scene above
sketched? We doubt if q single person
/ standing before it would imagine himself
looking down from an immense height upon
a level plain thirty miles in diameter, and
upon q city enbosomed in gardens. Not only
is the sense of elevation and of distance
feebly conveyed, the plain does not seem to
be a plain, but violently broken surface.
The portion covered by the mountain shadow
appears to be a lake or inland sea; the portion
lTaVeIbeu Dy Jne sunbeam mas JQe
aspect of a high ridge, cutting the
valley in twain; the city has the
appearance of being built on broad plateau
which slopes suddenly to the lake shore; and
the river, instead of dashing from the craggy
fortress, and reaching out hundred shining
arms towards Damascus, looks as if it was
flowing in an opposite direction from the city
to the mountains and was trickling down the
declivity into the lake, as it wound its way
along. So clear is this impression that all
former impressions of the scene acquired by
reading are overlaid and obliterated by it, II
is permanent; continued observation fails tc
remove it; different minds take it, at differ
ent hours of the day, and bring it away with
them. Now, the impression made by stream
of light so wide and brilliant may be pre-
cisely what is here given; if it is, the effec
is of an exceptional character and fails to tel
us the ordinary truth about Damascus, which
must be far more bewitching than this singu
lar eccentricity of description. And if, as w
are wickedly tempted to suspect the impress
sion is not true, the artist has not succeeded
in what he undertook, and his latest work il
not his greatest work.