Artists -- England -- Biography; Watts, George Frederick, 1817-1904
It is remarkable that even the technical style of Watts gives a
contradiction to this Celtic theory. Watts is strong precisely where
the Celt is weak, and weak precisely where the Celt is strong. The only
thing that the Celt has lacked in art is that hard mass, that naked
outline, that ἀρχιτεκτονική, which makes Watts a sort of sculptor of
draughtsmanship. It is as well for us that the Celt has not had this: if
he had, he would rule the world with a rod of iron; for he has
everything else. There are no hard black lines in Burke’s orations, or
Tom Moore’s songs, or the plays of Mr. W. B. Yeats. Burke is the
greatest of political philosophers, because in him only are there
distances and perspectives, as there are on the real earth, with its
mists of morning and evening, and its blue horizons and broken skies.
Moore’s songs have neither a pure style nor deep realization, nor
originality of form, nor thought nor wit nor vigour, but they have
something else which is none of these things, which is nameless and the
one thing needful. In Mr. Yeats’ plays there is only one character: the
hero who rules and kills all the others, and his name is Atmosphere.
Atmosphere and the gleaming distances are the soul of Celtic greatness
as they were of Burne-Jones, who was, as I have said, weak precisely
where Watts is strong, in the statuesque quality in drawing, in the love
of heavy hands like those of _Mammon_, of a strong back like that of
_Eve Repentant_, in a single fearless and austere outline like that of
the angel in _The Court of Death_, in the frame-filling violence of
_Jonah_, in the half-witted brutality of _The Minotaur_. He is
deficient, that is to say, in what can only be called the god-like
materialism of art. Watts, on the other hand, is peculiarly strong in
it. Idealist as he is, there is nothing frail or phantasmal about the
things or the figures he loves. Though not himself a robust man, he
loves robustness; he loves a great bulk of shoulder, an abrupt bend of
neck, a gigantic stride,
[Illustration: CARDINAL MANNING.]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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