life,' as the French say, from
disturbing surroundings, and to study it under certain effects of light
and shade. But this very isolation leads often to mere mannerism in the
painter, and robs him of that broad acceptance of the general facts of
life which is the very essence of art. Model-painting, in a word, while
it may be the condition of art, is not by any means its aim. It is
simply practice, not perfection. Its use trains the eye and the hand of
the painter, its abuse produces in his work an effect of mere posing and
prettiness. It is the secret of much of the artificiality of modern art,
this constant posing of pretty people, and when art becomes artificial it
becomes monotonous. Outside the little world of the studio, with its
draperies and its bric-a-brac, lies the world of life with its infinite,
its Shakespearean variety. We must, however, distinguish between the two
kinds of models, those who sit for the figure and those who sit for the
costume. The study of the first is always excellent, but the costume-
model is becoming rather wearisome in modern pictures. It is really of
very little use to dress up a London girl in Greek draperies and to paint
her as a goddess. The robe may be the robe of Athens, but the face is
usually the face of Brompton. Now and then, it is true, one comes across
a model whose face is an exquisite anachronism, and who looks lovely and
natural in the dress of any century but her own. This, however, is
rather rare. As a rule models are absolutely de notre siecle, and should
be painted as such. Unfortunately they are not, and, as a consequence,
we are shown every year a series of scenes from fancy dress balls which
are called historical pictures, but are little more than mediocre
representations of modern people masquerading. In France they are wiser.
The French painter uses the model simply for study; for the finished
picture he goes direct to life.
However, we must not blame the sitters for the shortcomings of the
artists. The English models are a well-behaved and hard-working class,
and if they are more interested in artists than in art, a large section
of the public is in the same condition, and most of our modern
exhibitions seem to justify its choice.
LETTER TO JOAQUIN MILLER
Written to Mr. Joaquin Miller in reply to a letter, dated February 9,
1882, in reference to the behaviour of a section of the audience at
Wilde's lecture on the English Renaissan
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