Ser Pandolfo, 1871. Wood engraving by William Hollidge, 71/2 x 113/4 inches (19 x 29.2 cm) - image size. Private collection.
This is one of the earliest examples of Wallis being influenced by Venetian High Renaissance painting, both in his subject matter and in colour palette of his paintings. In this case Wallis chose watercolour rather than oil paint as his medium of choice, and it was the earliest of his exhibited watercolours. It was initially shown at the New British Institution, First Winter Exhibition of Water-Colour Drawings, in 1870, no. 77, and then at the London International Exhibition in 1871, no. 1747.
The Painting’s Reception
The critic of The Illustrated London News, in its initial review, was very favourably impressed by this work, comparing the effects of this watercolour to that achieved by oil painters:
There are several cases in this exhibition which may be adduced to show that oil-painters of ability have only to change their materials to successfully compete with or even surpass the old favourites whom the public may suppose enjoy a sort of monopoly in water colours. Among those artists known as oil-painters who lend novel interest to the display none has distinguished himself so highly as Mr. Henry Wallis in his Ser Pandolfo (77). Since his Death of Chatterton he has done nothing better calculated to enhance his reputation; but, unlike that celebrated early picture, the present is a work of the maturest art; indeed, we have seen few such drawings in our recent English school. Its colouring and force of effect; its texture, or what artists call ‘quality’ are of rare excellence. Nor is the conception inferior in originality and suggestiveness to the execution. ‘Ser Pandolfo’ is the type of a rich, self-indulging civic grandee of old Florence. His portly person buried in the ample folds of his scarlet robes, he sits, his plump hands folded over his stomach, on a marble bench, leaning, fast asleep, against the marble wall of (we may suppose) his palazzo. From the right, relieved against the mellowed hues of the sun-lighted marble with a vividness little short of that of nature, approaches one of the flower-girls who to this day present their tiny bouquets to every ‘swell’ they encounter in the hope of an occasional bajocco or paulo. But with a charmingly-indicated expression, half timid, half roguish, the little gipsy pauses. Shall she dare wake so imposing a personage? Or shall she throw her flowers, with those which already lie unnoticed at the great man’s feet? [1870, 543]
The Illustrated London News in a later review was again high in its praise of Wallis’s handling of this watercolour:
At first sight we imagined this drawing (which we have engraved from the current Exhibition of Water-Colour Paintings at the New British Institution) to be an illustration of some character of poetry or romance, or a representation of some specific historical personage. Higher praise is, however, due to the painter, for it is his own original conception. The artist who, in a recent oil painting gave us capital realizations of Machiavelli and Caesar Borgia [His Highness and His Excellence the Ambassador of the Florentine Republic], typical Florentine characters of the early part of the sixteenth century, here introduces an equally typical, although fictitious, Venetian personage of about the same date: and – with a power of imaginative sympathy which is not the less real because it is not vulgarly super-obvious – he gives us at the same time a glimpse, as it were, of everyday Venetian life…This is one of those civic grandees of the palmy days of Venice, as we learn by the ample crimson silk robes which envelop his portly person. Magistrate and member of the Consiglio, he may be; but municipal duties sit light upon him, patriotic anxiety does not disturb his digestion or equanimity. ‘Ser,’ the familiar contraction of his title, suggests that he is not held in high esteem among the populace, even by the poor flower-girl who chances to recognise him. He is, in short, the very personification in features, expression, and figure of a Venetian aldermanic Dives, luxuriously pampered, self-indulgent, and indolent. He has strolled out to air himself; but the warm, soft, moist breath of the Adriatic has a relaxing, somniferous influence. So he sits down on the marble bench, against a richly-inlaid outside wall of his own palazzo, as we may suppose, and there for a while he amuses himself with discussing a fig, the fragments of which lie at his feet…Then his head loll’s back, his plump hands fold themselves over his round, ‘well-lined’ stomach, and there he takes, al fresco, his siesta. And thus, in this undignified attitude of ease, he is found by a little flower- girl, whose charming figure presents the strongest contrast, in her slender litheness, her arch vivacity of expression, her picturesque rags, and in every other respect. We suppose that these little witches of flower-girls were an institution in Messer Pandolfo’s time, and then, as now, flitted about, presenting their tiny bouquets to ‘swells’ of the period, in the hope of a chance bajoccho or an occasional paulo. She pauses, smiling at the great man’s incapable look: shall she dare to awake so great a personage? Or shall she waste her posy by throwing it into the ample lap of the insensible sleeper?
Technically, this picture is of very unusual interest. It is widely dissimilar in subject and treatment to the ‘Blue Bells,’ by the same artist, which was so much admired when exhibited at the same gallery last spring: and it is, we believe, the first painting in water colours that Mr. Wallis has exhibited. Yet it is remarkable for perfect command of the material, and it has a power and beauty of colour and richness of texture rarely found in water colours; indeed, it is long since we have seen a drawing, on the whole, so masterly. It is a considerable advance, in the higher artistic qualities, upon The Death of Chatterton, the picture by which Mr. Wallis won his early fame. The celebrity of that picture was not undeserved; but it, perhaps, owed something of its renown to the rage for pre-Raphaelitism which prevailed about the time of its production. Since then, however, the artist has changed his style more than once, and his subjects have been extremely various. It is, probably, owing to these circumstances that some works of superior merit have not received due recognition from the public. [1871, 16-18]
Links to Related Material
Bibliography
“Fine Arts. The New British Institution.” The Illustrated London News 57 (November 26, 1870): 543.
“Ser Pandolfo, by H. Wallis.” The Illustrated London News 58 (January 7, 1871): 16-18.
Lessens, Ronald and Dennis T. Lanigan. Henry Wallis. From Pre-Raphaelite Painter to Collector/Connoisseur. Woodbridge: ACC Art Books, 2019, cat. 80, 123-24.
Last modified 17 October 2022