kground make a hedge for the angel faces and look extremely
well. If the figure of Richard II. seems flat, if you feel as though
he were cut out of cardboard and had no thickness, then turn your mind
to consider only the outline of the figure. It is very graceful. Artists
in the thirteenth century sometimes made their figures over-long if
they thought that a sweep of graceful line would look well in a certain
position in their picture; the drapery was bent into impossible curves
if so they fell into a pretty pattern.
In the fourteenth century, beauty of outlines still prevailed, even
when they contained plain masses of brilliant colour so pure and
gem-like that the pictures almost came to look like stained-glass
windows. In fact probably the constant sight of stained-glass windows
in the churches greatly influenced the painters' way of work. The
contrast of divers colours placed next one another was more startling
than we find in later painting, whilst an effort was made to finish
every detail as though it were to be looked at through a magnifying
glass.
In this picture which we are now learning how to see, the Virgin was
to be shown standing in a meadow of flowers. A modern artist knows
how to paint the general effect of many flowers growing out of grass,
but the medieval painter had not the skill to do that. He had not learnt
to look at the effect of a mass of flowers as a whole, nor could he
have rendered such an effect with the colours and processes he
possessed. He knew what one flower looked like, and thought that many
must be a continued repetition of one. But it was impossible to paint
a great number of flowers close together, each finished in detail,
so he chose instead to paint a few as completely as he could, and leave
the rest to the imagination of the spectator. That was his way of making
a selection from nature; thus he hoped to suggest the idea of a flowery
meadow, since he could not hope to render the look of it.
Likewise, all the details of the dresses are minutely painted. The
robes of Richard and of Edmund the Martyr are beautiful examples of
the careful and painstaking work characteristic of the Middle Ages.
No medieval painter spared himself trouble. Although he had not
mastered the art of drawing the figure, he had learnt how to paint
jewellery and stuffs beautifully, and delighted in doing it. The
drawing of the figures you can see to be imperfect, yet nothing could
be sweeter in feeling tha
|