Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 7, No. 40, February, 1861 | Page 6

the age of Giotto,--the most notable examples having
occurred in the Venetian school.
But even in that golden age of art, this property of color was but rarely
perceived and called into use under the guidance of principles. Still, the
sense of the value and the harmonies of colors was so keen among the
Venetian artists, that, intuitively, subjects were chosen which required
an expression admitting of the most lavish use and magnificent display
of color.
Paul Veronese, the splendor of whose conceptions seemed ever to
select the pomp and wealth of banquets and ceremonies,--Giorgione,
for whom the world revolved in an atmosphere of golden glory,--each
had a fixed ideal of noble coloring; and it is questionable whether either
ever modified that ideal for the sake of any expressional purpose.
Titian, from whom no property or capability of color was concealed,
could not forego the power which he secured through obedience to the
law of its relation to the human soul. Were we asked which among
pictures is most completely illustrative of this obedience, we should
answer, "The Entombment," in the Louvre. Each breadth of color
mourns,--sky and earth and all the conscious air are laden with sorrow.
In portraiture, however, the great master was inclined to give the full
perfection of the highest type of coloring. That rich glow which is
bestowed by the Venetian sun did, indeed, seem typical of the life
beneath it; and Titian may have been justified in bringing thither those
who were the recipients of his favors. One only did he not
invite,--Philip II.; him he placed, dark and ominous, against a sky
barred with blood.
Is it in virtue of conformity to law, and under the government of the
principles of correspondence, that Mr. Page has wrought with mind and
hand?
Otherwise it cannot be; for, in the three portraits to which allusion has
been made, such subtile distinctions of character find expression in
equally subtile differences of tint, that no touch could have been given
from vague apprehensions of truth. No ambiguity perplexes the
spectator; he beholds the inevitable.

Other works than those of portraiture have won for Mr. Page the
attention of the world. This attention has elicited from individuals
praise and dispraise, dealt out promptly, and with little qualification.
But we have looked in vain for some truly appreciative notice of the
so-called historical pictures executed by this artist. We do not object to
the prompt out-speaking of the public. So much is disposed of, when
the mass has given or withheld its approval. We know whether or not
the work appeals to the hearts of human beings. Often, too, it is the
most nearly just of any which may be rendered. Usually, the
conclusions of the great world are correct, while its reasonings are
absurd. Its decisions are immediate and clear; its arguments,
subsequent and vague.
This measure, however, cannot be meted to all artists. A painter may
appeal to some wide, yet superficial sympathy, and attain to no other
excellence.
That Mr. Page might have found success in this direction will not be
denied by any one who has seen the engraving of a girl and lamb, from
one of his early works. It is as sweet and tenderly simple as a face by
Francia. But not only did he refuse to confine himself to this style of art,
as, when that engraving is before us, we wish he had done,--he passed
out of and away from it. And those phases which followed have been
such as are the least fitted to stand the trial of public exhibition. His
pictures do not command the eye by extraordinary combinations of
assertive colors,--nor do they, through great pathos, deep tenderness, or
any overcharged emotional quality, fascinate and absorb the spectator.
Much of the middle portion of this artist's professional life is marked by
changes. It was a period of growth,--of continual development and of
obvious transition. Not infrequently, the transition seemed to be from
the excellent to the crude. Nevertheless, we doubt not, that, through all
vicissitudes, there has been a steady and genuine growth of Mr. Page's
best artistic power, and that he has been true to his specialty.
We should like to believe that the Venetian visit of 1853 was the
closing of one period of transition, and the beginning of a new era in
Mr. Page's artistic career. It is pleasant to think of the painter's
pilgrimage to that studio of Titian, Venice,--for it was all his,--not in
nebulous prophetic youth,--not before his demands had been revealed
to his consciousness,--not before those twenty long years of solitary,

hard, earnest work,--but in the full ripeness of manhood, when
prophecy had dawned into confident fulfilment, when the principles of
his science had been found, and when of this science his art