Wintering in the Riviera: With Notes of Travel in Italy and France, and Practical Hints to Travellers
John Stuart Mill · en
The engravings are fairly moderate in price.
* * * * *
The galleries for the most part contain specimens of the great
masters,—such as Titian, Guido Reni, Vandyke, and almost every other
master of note,—though most frequently of the Italian masters and
artists. Some of these collections are very extensive. That of the
Borghese Palace occupies no less than twelve rooms. Among so many
pictures there is always to be found a great amount of mediocrity,
interspersed with works and gems of the highest art, over which one
could gladly linger. On most of them age has bestowed its mellow tint.
There is a richness and power in these old masters which one misses
in modern galleries; and after visiting the principal collections in
Italy, and fresh from the Louvre in Paris, I felt as if landed in a new
world on entering the Royal Academy in London.
In some of the galleries persons are usually to be seen making copies
of more or less merit of noted paintings, the copying of pictures being
apparently, as it is in other Italian cities, a considerable branch of
business in Rome. The casino of the Rospigliosi is visited principally
for the celebrated Aurora of Guido Reni, with which that of Guercino
cannot compare. It is a large work of art, which, like too many others,
is painted on a ceiling, at all times an awkward position in which to
be seen; and so awkward, too, for the artist, that to copy it always
seems a very wonderful effort of execution. In this case, however, with
much consideration for visitors’ necks, a mirror is placed on a table
below for the purpose of reflecting it at a convenient angle, and in
this way it can be studied. As the masterpiece of the great painter
(for Guido can hold his place alongside of Titian and Raphael), this
picture is a very favourite subject of copy; and while we were in the
room, there were three or four artists making copies of it varying in
size. I asked the price of one good–sized copy, the execution of which
was remarkably good, and the answer was, 600 francs—£24 nominally,
or about £21 calculating according to the then state of the exchange
(which, however, does not enter into the artist’s calculations) with
England. There was a good deal of work upon it, and it might possibly
be fairly worth the money; but, according to the Italian mode of
dealing, more may have been stated than would be taken, although it is
only fair to say that in any transactions I have myself had with the
Italian painters, this does not seem to be a practice which extends to
them.