La Primavera (prē-mä-ve'-rä), (Springtime) JOY of springtime, love and youth is the theme which here the exuberant fancy of Botticelli has wrought into a famous picture. All is life and motion, expressed in the graceful curves of lightly poised figures, whose springing footsteps press dainty flowers and the fresh green sod, while above, the love god, as if one of the larger blossoms which are scattered in the dark foliage, Cupid, who loves the springtime, shoots his deadly arrows. In the center fully draped stands Venus; she is mistress of the festival, and her will prevails, yet to-day, Spring in flower-spangled robes advances more in the foreground, as her handmaid and irresistible ally. At her side in doubtful feigning a nymph seems to fly, half yielding, the wooing of a youth. At the other end of the picture Mercury gathers flowers which are as fruits, while between him and Venus is a lovely trio of slender, airily draped maidens, who might well be the three Graces, as indeed they are, being yet but the daughters of earth, who seem to discuss in earnest converse the mysteries of love and spring. Delicately drawn in waving lines, these bewitching figures, clothed in soft grayish and golden tones, subtle forms like the substance of dreams, stand, creatures of light, amidst the careless variety of colors scattered over the picture, which mimic the profusion of spring. Many have sought to find deep allegories in these figures, perhaps they are there, but the lighter spirit of the Italian classic Renaissance and Botticelli's free fancy were rather at play here. LOISTERS were really the court or garden of a convent, surrounded by a gallery with arcades, although we quite as often apply the term to the covered gallery itself, which formed a walk about the court. The beautiful gallery about the court of the Benedictine convent attached to the church of San Paolo fuori le Mura, which is situated about a mile outside the old Porta San Paolo, was built from about 1193 It incloses a quadrangle about seventy by eighty feet, although the delicate construction gives the impression of greater space. to 1241. The adjoining church dates back to 324, it is said, and the second structure, made near the close of the fourth century, stood with little change until largely destroyed by fire in 1823. This was one of the earliest churches erected with its front to the west, contrary to the rule of the primitive churches. This famous cloister walk is built with three groups of four arches each on either side, marked off by heavy pilasters. Graceful and slender columns of varying and fantastic forms, set in pairs, carry the substantial entablature, and a continuous frieze with inscriptions runs around above the arches. These delightful covered walks, sheltered from sun and rain, yet full of light and air, were among the most attractive features of monastic architecture. For seven hundred years, generations of monks have enjoyed what the unsurpassed taste and skill of the old builders created, as a lasting heritage and example of the value of good work. Young Man with a Slouch Hat Frans Hals (hals), 1581–1666 OUTH of spirit, vitality, energy, buoyancy of heart, joy in the very living, break out from the portraits of Franz Hals. He was no ascetic or shrinking nature; he must have been large, hearty, demanding his full share of life. He has been able to impress these genial traits on the strong, vigorous portraits he has left to us. Frans Hals was born at Antwerp, of a Haarlem family temporarily there, but his life was passed at Haarlem. Karel van Mander, the historian of Dutch art, was his teacher, but he was original, born a painter, founder of a large school rather than a pupil. It was formerly the habit to describe many of the Dutch painters as revelers, if not drunkards, whose days were spent at the inns. In their sober intervals, not too frequent, they were supposed to have painted those wonderful pictures, with a nicety of touch, a certainty of brush-stroke, a delicacy or a breadth of treatment, and a quick feeling for color and light, which are the despair and the model of all later artists. This now seems psychologically improbable. Frans Hals may have been a careless liver, but he was held in regard in the town, and painted the magnificent, official corporation groups, which are now the boast of Haarlem, and numerous portraits of the plain citizens, his neighbors. Frans Hals was no profound student of character. What he saw, he painted as effectively as ever artist wrought. He worked easily, with broad, free touches, in simple thin color, without elaboration or afterthought. Here was no dabbling, no trying for effects. Each stroke was made to count, sure and intelligent, and he stopped when the picture was done. |