THE ART OF
BOTANICAL ILLUSTRATION Wilfred Blunt · William T. Stearn
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CONTENTS Introduction to the 1994 edition by William T. Stearn Preface to the 1950 edition by Wilfrid Blunt
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CHAPTER 1 The Botanical Artist 23 2 The Legacy of Antiquity 28 3 The Rebirth of Naturalism 40 4 The First Printed Herbals 55 5 The Herbals of Brunfels and Fuchs 61 6 The Decline of the Woodcut 71 7 Some Flower Painters of the Late Sixteenth Century 87 8 The Early Etchers and Metal Engravers 97 9 Rabel, Robert and Aubriet 111 10 Holland: The Flower-piece and the Dutch Influence 123 11 Some Botanical Books of the Late Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries 143 12 The Age of Ehret 154 13 West and East 171 14 The Age of Redouté 189 15 The Botanical Magazine 204 16 Kilburn, Sowerby and Sydenham Edwards 213 17 Francis and Ferdinand Bauer 218 18 Thornton and the Temple of Flora 231 19 England in the Early Nineteenth Century 239 20 Walter Fitch: The Age of the Lithograph 256 21 John Ruskin: A Digression 267 22 The Second Half of the Nineteenth Century 271 23 The Twentieth Century 289 24 Epilogue: Five Hundred Years of Botanical Illustration 320 Appendix A: Series of Eight Articles by W.H. Fitch on Botanical Drawing; from the Gardeners’ Chronicle, 1869 327 Appendix B: Some Illustrated Books on British Flowering Plants 337 Appendix C: Some Sources of Further Information 341 Bibliographical Index to Appendix C 350 Appendix D: The Jill Smythies Award 352 List of Colour Plates 353 Index 359 Night-blooming cactus (Selenicereus grandiflorus) by G.D. Ehret
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CONTENTS Introduction to the 1994 edition by William T. Stearn Preface to the 1950 edition by Wilfrid Blunt
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CHAPTER 1 The Botanical Artist 23 2 The Legacy of Antiquity 28 3 The Rebirth of Naturalism 40 4 The First Printed Herbals 55 5 The Herbals of Brunfels and Fuchs 61 6 The Decline of the Woodcut 71 7 Some Flower Painters of the Late Sixteenth Century 87 8 The Early Etchers and Metal Engravers 97 9 Rabel, Robert and Aubriet 111 10 Holland: The Flower-piece and the Dutch Influence 123 11 Some Botanical Books of the Late Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries 143 12 The Age of Ehret 154 13 West and East 171 14 The Age of Redouté 189 15 The Botanical Magazine 204 16 Kilburn, Sowerby and Sydenham Edwards 213 17 Francis and Ferdinand Bauer 218 18 Thornton and the Temple of Flora 231 19 England in the Early Nineteenth Century 239 20 Walter Fitch: The Age of the Lithograph 256 21 John Ruskin: A Digression 267 22 The Second Half of the Nineteenth Century 271 23 The Twentieth Century 289 24 Epilogue: Five Hundred Years of Botanical Illustration 320 Appendix A: Series of Eight Articles by W.H. Fitch on Botanical Drawing; from the Gardeners’ Chronicle, 1869 327 Appendix B: Some Illustrated Books on British Flowering Plants 337 Appendix C: Some Sources of Further Information 341 Bibliographical Index to Appendix C 350 Appendix D: The Jill Smythies Award 352 List of Colour Plates 353 Index 359 Night-blooming cactus (Selenicereus grandiflorus) by G.D. Ehret
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Holland: The Flower-Piece and the Dutch Influence
C H A P T E R
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HOLLAND: THE FLOWER-PIECE AND THE DUTCH INFLUENCE
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utch painting in the seventeenth century, as pointed out by the historian Johan Huizinga, “had its raison d’être in the wealth and vitality of well-to-do burghers; among them it found its inspiration, protectors and patrons…Paintings were everywhere: in the town hall and other public places, in orphanages and offices, in the houses of patricians and burghers alike.” Moreover never have flowers figured more prominently in the minds and the daily lives of a people than they did in the Low Countries during the opening decades of the seventeenth century. Though the Tulipomania ultimately degenerated into what can only be described as a stock exchange gamble, it had its origins in a genuine and passionate love of flowers themselves — an enthusiasm which gave birth to the greatest school of flower painting in the history of art. A detailed discussion of the flower-piece proper lies outside our province, but so great were the repercussions of the cult that we cannot afford wholly to ignore it. Moreover, a number of Dutch botanical studies have escaped the destruction that often seems to have attended such work when its immediate purpose had been fulfilled. There is a story that at a time when rare flowers were costly and painters’ charges moderate, an impecunious Dutch woman commissioned Jan Brueghel (1568-1625) to paint for her the flowers which she could not afford to buy. This, the legend asserts, was the humble origin of flower-painting in oils in the Low Countries. The earliest known flower-piece of the Dutch type is, however, a small study painted by Memling (c.1490) on the reverse of a panel bearing a portrait.1 It differs little in general character from the pots of flowers which van der Weyden and van der Goes not infrequently included in
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their figure compositions, and may perhaps have been intended for a similar purpose. Some seventy years were to elapse before the West phalian artist Tom Ring painted the three stiff little flower-pieces which are now in the Landesmuseum at Münster (dated 1562 and 1565). Ring’s contemporary, Lodewyck Jansz Valkenborgh (b.1520, at Bois-le-duc), is said by van Mander to have painted flower-pieces, but they have not survived. Plate 35 shows a detail from the picture of Christ in the House of Martha and Mary by Pieter Aertsen (1506c.1575). The flowers in this astonishing work are portrayed with a naturalism which was not to be found again in Dutch flower-pieces until late in the seventeenth century, and with a breadth of treatment which is clearly derived from Venice rather than from the North.2 Among the most interesting of the early flower-piece painters are Jan Brueghel and his contemporaries Jacob de Gheyn the Younger and Georg Flegel. Jacob de Gheyn (1565-1629) began as an engraver, but soon realised that only in painting could he find full scope for his talent. His greatest ambition was to become a figure painter. The Emperor Rudolf II purchased a flower-piece from him, as well as “a small book wherein de Gheyn had painted from life at different seasons of the year a number of little flowers in minia ture, and many insects” (van Mander). This book, which contains some beautiful studies of roses, was in the collection of Dr. Lugt at Montreux. There is also a very fine pen and ink drawing of a rose, dated 1620, in the Berlin Print Room. De Gheyn designed the Palace gardens at the Hague for Prince Mauritz, and also made for him a large oil painting of a horse and groom.
Cotton rose (Hibiscus mutabilis) by Maria Sibylla Merian
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Holland: The Flower-Piece and the Dutch Influence
C H A P T E R
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HOLLAND: THE FLOWER-PIECE AND THE DUTCH INFLUENCE
D
utch painting in the seventeenth century, as pointed out by the historian Johan Huizinga, “had its raison d’être in the wealth and vitality of well-to-do burghers; among them it found its inspiration, protectors and patrons…Paintings were everywhere: in the town hall and other public places, in orphanages and offices, in the houses of patricians and burghers alike.” Moreover never have flowers figured more prominently in the minds and the daily lives of a people than they did in the Low Countries during the opening decades of the seventeenth century. Though the Tulipomania ultimately degenerated into what can only be described as a stock exchange gamble, it had its origins in a genuine and passionate love of flowers themselves — an enthusiasm which gave birth to the greatest school of flower painting in the history of art. A detailed discussion of the flower-piece proper lies outside our province, but so great were the repercussions of the cult that we cannot afford wholly to ignore it. Moreover, a number of Dutch botanical studies have escaped the destruction that often seems to have attended such work when its immediate purpose had been fulfilled. There is a story that at a time when rare flowers were costly and painters’ charges moderate, an impecunious Dutch woman commissioned Jan Brueghel (1568-1625) to paint for her the flowers which she could not afford to buy. This, the legend asserts, was the humble origin of flower-painting in oils in the Low Countries. The earliest known flower-piece of the Dutch type is, however, a small study painted by Memling (c.1490) on the reverse of a panel bearing a portrait.1 It differs little in general character from the pots of flowers which van der Weyden and van der Goes not infrequently included in
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their figure compositions, and may perhaps have been intended for a similar purpose. Some seventy years were to elapse before the West phalian artist Tom Ring painted the three stiff little flower-pieces which are now in the Landesmuseum at Münster (dated 1562 and 1565). Ring’s contemporary, Lodewyck Jansz Valkenborgh (b.1520, at Bois-le-duc), is said by van Mander to have painted flower-pieces, but they have not survived. Plate 35 shows a detail from the picture of Christ in the House of Martha and Mary by Pieter Aertsen (1506c.1575). The flowers in this astonishing work are portrayed with a naturalism which was not to be found again in Dutch flower-pieces until late in the seventeenth century, and with a breadth of treatment which is clearly derived from Venice rather than from the North.2 Among the most interesting of the early flower-piece painters are Jan Brueghel and his contemporaries Jacob de Gheyn the Younger and Georg Flegel. Jacob de Gheyn (1565-1629) began as an engraver, but soon realised that only in painting could he find full scope for his talent. His greatest ambition was to become a figure painter. The Emperor Rudolf II purchased a flower-piece from him, as well as “a small book wherein de Gheyn had painted from life at different seasons of the year a number of little flowers in minia ture, and many insects” (van Mander). This book, which contains some beautiful studies of roses, was in the collection of Dr. Lugt at Montreux. There is also a very fine pen and ink drawing of a rose, dated 1620, in the Berlin Print Room. De Gheyn designed the Palace gardens at the Hague for Prince Mauritz, and also made for him a large oil painting of a horse and groom.
Cotton rose (Hibiscus mutabilis) by Maria Sibylla Merian
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Some Botanical Books of the Late Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries
November flowers by Pieter Casteels
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Some Botanical Books of the Late Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries
the interpretation of some Linnæan species. This is particularly true of his illustrations of mesem bryanthemums. As an artist, Dillenius must be rated an unusually gifted amateur: in his Hortus, a comparison of his own engraving of a yucca (Pl. 323) with that of another yucca made by a professional German engraver (Pl. 324) clearly shows the limitations of an amateur technique. A copy of the book coloured by Dillenius himself was bequeathed by him to the Bodleian Library; another with authentic colouring is in the Natural History Museum. With Mrs. Elizabeth Blackwell, artist and engraver of A Curious Herbal (1737-39), we become entangled in a little drama of heroism, intrigue and torture which seems strangely out of place in the sober chronicles of botanical illustration. Dr. Alexander Blackwell, Elizabeth’s husband, had abandoned medicine and was on the way to becoming a successful printer, when his prospects were suddenly blighted by a combination of London printers who resented the fact that he had never been apprenticed to the trade. Condemned to a debtors’ prison, Alexander might have languished there indefinitely had not his wife gallantly come to the rescue. Learning from Sir Hans Sloane that a herbal of medicinal plans was needed, she took a lodging near the Chelsea Physic Garden and set about making the drawings and engravings which have made her famous. From his prison cell Alexander assisted with the text; and so successful was their joint venture that two years later he was released. It would be pleasant to be able to relate that the re-united pair lived happily ever after. For a time, indeed, all went well: we find Alexander acting as agent to the Duke of Chandos, and compiling a work on A New Method of improving Cold, Wet, and Clayey Grounds; then he turns up in Sweden, dividing his attention between agriculture and quack medicine. But eventually he became involved in a conspiracy to alter the Swedish succession. He was arrested, charged with treason, and condemned to be variously tortured and then broken alive on the wheel, a
sentence which was finally commuted to one of decapitation. He remained in good spirits to the last: on the scaffold, “having laid his head wrong, he remarked jocosely, that being his first experiment, no wonder that he should want a little instruction.” The fate of Elizabeth is unknown. Her book had considerable success, and was re-issued, in
Figure 47. Pasque-flower (Pulsatilla patens). Engraving from Breyne, Exoticarum… Centuria Prima (1678-89)
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Some Botanical Books of the Late Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries
November flowers by Pieter Casteels
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Some Botanical Books of the Late Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries
the interpretation of some Linnæan species. This is particularly true of his illustrations of mesem bryanthemums. As an artist, Dillenius must be rated an unusually gifted amateur: in his Hortus, a comparison of his own engraving of a yucca (Pl. 323) with that of another yucca made by a professional German engraver (Pl. 324) clearly shows the limitations of an amateur technique. A copy of the book coloured by Dillenius himself was bequeathed by him to the Bodleian Library; another with authentic colouring is in the Natural History Museum. With Mrs. Elizabeth Blackwell, artist and engraver of A Curious Herbal (1737-39), we become entangled in a little drama of heroism, intrigue and torture which seems strangely out of place in the sober chronicles of botanical illustration. Dr. Alexander Blackwell, Elizabeth’s husband, had abandoned medicine and was on the way to becoming a successful printer, when his prospects were suddenly blighted by a combination of London printers who resented the fact that he had never been apprenticed to the trade. Condemned to a debtors’ prison, Alexander might have languished there indefinitely had not his wife gallantly come to the rescue. Learning from Sir Hans Sloane that a herbal of medicinal plans was needed, she took a lodging near the Chelsea Physic Garden and set about making the drawings and engravings which have made her famous. From his prison cell Alexander assisted with the text; and so successful was their joint venture that two years later he was released. It would be pleasant to be able to relate that the re-united pair lived happily ever after. For a time, indeed, all went well: we find Alexander acting as agent to the Duke of Chandos, and compiling a work on A New Method of improving Cold, Wet, and Clayey Grounds; then he turns up in Sweden, dividing his attention between agriculture and quack medicine. But eventually he became involved in a conspiracy to alter the Swedish succession. He was arrested, charged with treason, and condemned to be variously tortured and then broken alive on the wheel, a
sentence which was finally commuted to one of decapitation. He remained in good spirits to the last: on the scaffold, “having laid his head wrong, he remarked jocosely, that being his first experiment, no wonder that he should want a little instruction.” The fate of Elizabeth is unknown. Her book had considerable success, and was re-issued, in
Figure 47. Pasque-flower (Pulsatilla patens). Engraving from Breyne, Exoticarum… Centuria Prima (1678-89)
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The Age of Ehret
Frangipani (Plumeria rubra) by Thomas Robins the Elder
Mourning iris (Iris susiana) right, and English iris (Iris xiphioides) left, by G.D. Ehret
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stalks and leaves in shades of green, and pasted them down; and after she had completed a sprig of geranium in this way, the Duchess of Portland came in and exclaimed, ‘What are you doing with the geranium?’ having taken the paper imitation for the real flower. Mrs. Delany answered, that ‘if the Duchess really thought it so like the original, a new work was begun from that moment;’ and a work was begun at the age of 72, and ended at the
age of 85, which no other person before or since has ever been able to rival or even approach.” (Johnston, 1925.) For her mosaics, of which there are more than a thousand in the British Museum and at Windsor, Mrs. Delany “used to procure various coloured papers from Captains of vessels coming from China; and bought up odd pieces from paper-stainers in which the colours
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The Age of Ehret
Frangipani (Plumeria rubra) by Thomas Robins the Elder
Mourning iris (Iris susiana) right, and English iris (Iris xiphioides) left, by G.D. Ehret
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stalks and leaves in shades of green, and pasted them down; and after she had completed a sprig of geranium in this way, the Duchess of Portland came in and exclaimed, ‘What are you doing with the geranium?’ having taken the paper imitation for the real flower. Mrs. Delany answered, that ‘if the Duchess really thought it so like the original, a new work was begun from that moment;’ and a work was begun at the age of 72, and ended at the
age of 85, which no other person before or since has ever been able to rival or even approach.” (Johnston, 1925.) For her mosaics, of which there are more than a thousand in the British Museum and at Windsor, Mrs. Delany “used to procure various coloured papers from Captains of vessels coming from China; and bought up odd pieces from paper-stainers in which the colours
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West and East
West and East
Achras sphaerocarpa by Athanasio Echeverria
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last, some of these 2800 superb drawings were published with the scientific collaboration of A. Caballero, A. Dugand and E.P. Killip. From time to time one comes across references to the Sessé and Mociño drawings of Mexican plants at Geneva; their rather dramatic history seems to be little known, and deserves therefore to be discussed in some detail. In 1786, apparently at the instigation of Marten de Sessé y Lacasta (d.c.1809), the Spanish Government issued a Royal Order for an expedition to New Spain (Mexico) “to make drawings…and illustrate and complete the work of Doctor Don Francisco Hernandez” (see p. 76). Sessé became the leader of this expedition, which
included two artists, Juan de Dios Vicente de la Cerda and Athanasio Echeverria (commemorated in the genus Echeveria); and he later added to his staff José Mariano Mociño Suares Losada (b.1757), a talented Mexican-born Spaniard with a great enthusiasm for natural history.18 The expedition was due to set sail for home in 1799, but not until 1803 did it once more reach Spain. By this time the artists had made more than two thousand partly-finished sketches. On their return, Sessé and Mociño were met by
Plate 48. Engraving of floral details in C.K. Sprengel, Das entdeckte Geheimniss (1793)
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West and East
West and East
Achras sphaerocarpa by Athanasio Echeverria
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last, some of these 2800 superb drawings were published with the scientific collaboration of A. Caballero, A. Dugand and E.P. Killip. From time to time one comes across references to the Sessé and Mociño drawings of Mexican plants at Geneva; their rather dramatic history seems to be little known, and deserves therefore to be discussed in some detail. In 1786, apparently at the instigation of Marten de Sessé y Lacasta (d.c.1809), the Spanish Government issued a Royal Order for an expedition to New Spain (Mexico) “to make drawings…and illustrate and complete the work of Doctor Don Francisco Hernandez” (see p. 76). Sessé became the leader of this expedition, which
included two artists, Juan de Dios Vicente de la Cerda and Athanasio Echeverria (commemorated in the genus Echeveria); and he later added to his staff José Mariano Mociño Suares Losada (b.1757), a talented Mexican-born Spaniard with a great enthusiasm for natural history.18 The expedition was due to set sail for home in 1799, but not until 1803 did it once more reach Spain. By this time the artists had made more than two thousand partly-finished sketches. On their return, Sessé and Mociño were met by
Plate 48. Engraving of floral details in C.K. Sprengel, Das entdeckte Geheimniss (1793)
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Thornton and the Temple of Flora
The blue passion flower (Passiflora caerulea) (colour print from oil painting by Philip Reinagle)
in a garden. Hence the several species of PASSION-FLOWERS [Passiflora caerulea, P. alata, P. quadrangularis] are seen clambering up pillars, reaching to different heights [Colour Plate 83]. As each of these beauties of the vegetable race are carefully dissected, it is hoped, that the rigid botanist will excuse the author who, striving at universal approbation, has thus endeavoured to unite the “Utile Dulci.” Fourteen of the twenty-eight plates of the Temple of Flora are the work of Peter Henderson (see Colour Plate 81), who was also known for his genre studies and portraits, among his sitters being Mrs. Siddons; he exhibited many miniatures at the Royal Academy
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Thornton and the Temple of Flora
Tulips (aquatint after Thomas Baxter)
between 1799 and 1829. Eleven more plates are by Philip Reinagle (1749-1833). At first pupil and drudge of the great portrait-painter Allan Ramsay, Reinagle became disgusted by the slavery involved in producing “50 pairs of ‘Kings and Queens’ at 10 guineas a-piece,”3 and abandoned portrait for animal and finally for landscape painting. He is also remembered for his copies of the work of the Dutch landscape-painters, and for his illustra tions to Taplin’s Sportsman’s Cabinet. Two plates are by Abraham Pether (1756-1812), who also supplied the moonlight in Reinagle’s Night-blowing Cereus (Plate 53). Pether was extremely versatile — a musical prodigy, artist, philosopher, mathematician and inventor of mechanical gadgets. His passion for painting
The superb lily (Lilium superbum) by Philip Reinagle
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Thornton and the Temple of Flora
The blue passion flower (Passiflora caerulea) (colour print from oil painting by Philip Reinagle)
in a garden. Hence the several species of PASSION-FLOWERS [Passiflora caerulea, P. alata, P. quadrangularis] are seen clambering up pillars, reaching to different heights [Colour Plate 83]. As each of these beauties of the vegetable race are carefully dissected, it is hoped, that the rigid botanist will excuse the author who, striving at universal approbation, has thus endeavoured to unite the “Utile Dulci.” Fourteen of the twenty-eight plates of the Temple of Flora are the work of Peter Henderson (see Colour Plate 81), who was also known for his genre studies and portraits, among his sitters being Mrs. Siddons; he exhibited many miniatures at the Royal Academy
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Thornton and the Temple of Flora
Tulips (aquatint after Thomas Baxter)
between 1799 and 1829. Eleven more plates are by Philip Reinagle (1749-1833). At first pupil and drudge of the great portrait-painter Allan Ramsay, Reinagle became disgusted by the slavery involved in producing “50 pairs of ‘Kings and Queens’ at 10 guineas a-piece,”3 and abandoned portrait for animal and finally for landscape painting. He is also remembered for his copies of the work of the Dutch landscape-painters, and for his illustra tions to Taplin’s Sportsman’s Cabinet. Two plates are by Abraham Pether (1756-1812), who also supplied the moonlight in Reinagle’s Night-blowing Cereus (Plate 53). Pether was extremely versatile — a musical prodigy, artist, philosopher, mathematician and inventor of mechanical gadgets. His passion for painting
The superb lily (Lilium superbum) by Philip Reinagle
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