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I confess that when first I made acquaintance with Charles Strickland I never for a moment discerned that there was in him anything out of the ordinary. Yet now few will be found to deny his greatness. I do not speak of that greatness which is achieved by the fortunate politician or the successful soldier; that is a quality which belongs to the place he occupies rather than to the man; and a change of circumstances reduces it to very discreet proportions. The Prime Minister out of office is seen, too often, to have been but a pompous rhetorician, and the General without an army is but the tame hero of a market town. The greatness of Charles Strickland was authentic. It may be that you do not like his art, but at all events you can hardly refuse it the tribute of your interest. He disturbs and arrests. The time has passed when he was an object of ridicule, and it is no longer a mark of eccentricity to defend or of perversity to extol him. His faults are accepted as the necessary complement to his merits. It is still possible to discuss his place in art, and the adulation of his admirers is perhaps no less capricious than the disparagement of his detractors; but one thing can never be doubtful, and that is that he had genius. To my mind the most interesting thing in art is the personality of the artist; and if that is singular, I am willing to excuse a thousand faults. I suppose Velasquez was a better painter than El Greco, but custom stales one's admiration for him: the Cretan, sensual and tragic, proffers the mystery of his soul like a standing sacrifice. The artist, painter, poet, or musician, by his decoration, sublime or beautiful, satisfies the aesthetic sense; but that is akin to the sexual instinct, and shares its barbarity: he lays before you also the greater gift of himself. To pursue his secret has something of the fascination of a detective story. It is a riddle which shares with the universe the merit of having no answer. The most insignificant of Strickland's works suggests a personality which is strange, tormented, and complex; and it is this surely which prevents even those who do not like his pictures from being indifferent to them; it is this which has excited so curious an interest in his life and character. |
坦白說，我剛認識司查爾時，一點也沒覺察出他有任何異乎尋常之處。但現在看來，很少有人會否認他的偉大了。我所說的偉大，既非官運亨通的政客，亦非功成名就的軍人。與其說這些人偉大，倒不如說他們所處的位置使然；事過境遷，這種偉大最終會淪落到很少有人問津的地步。離職卸任的國家元首往往會被人視為隻不過是個誇誇其談、能言善辯的演說家，而退役回家的將軍也隻不過是市廛閭巷中虎落平陽的溫順英雄。但司查爾的偉大名符其實。也許他的藝術並不合你的口味，但無論如何，你很難抵擋得住對他的藝術產生興趣。他撥動你的心弦，俘獲你的靈魂。他過去曾是被人奚落的對象，那個時代已經過去，為他辯護已不再被人視為乖張怪癖，讚美他也不再被視為剛愎任性。他的缺陷被人們所接受，和他的優點相映成趣，必不可少。盡管他在畫壇的地位仍可能有待商榷，崇拜者對他的讚譽反複無常，也許並不亞於詆毀者對他的貶低那樣變化莫測；但有一點毋庸置疑，那就是他天賦異稟。在我看來，藝術中最有趣的東西就是藝術家的個性；如果個性獨特，我寧願為其一千個缺陷而打抱不平。魏拉斯或許在繪畫方麵比葛埃爾更勝一籌，但因為魏拉斯的作品司空見慣，大家對他的欽佩程度也就變了味：而那個克裏特人葛埃爾，一生好色放蕩，命運悲慘，把自己靈魂的隱秘之處，像是當作一份活生生站立著的祭品奉獻給了世人。一位藝術家——畫家也好，詩人也好，音樂家也罷，他們通過對自己作品進行藝術升華或者美化裝點，滿足了人們的審美意識；但這與人類的性本能同宗同源，都含有野蠻粗鄙成分：他同時也把更偉大的禮物——藝術家本人——擺放在你麵前。如同閱讀一部偵探小說那樣，探尋藝術家的秘密引人入勝。這是一個如同宇宙神話般的謎語，其優點就是沒有謎底。司查爾最不值一提的作品暗示出一種不可思議、倍受折磨和錯綜複雜的個性；肯定因為這點，甚至對於那些不喜歡他繪畫作品的人而言，看了他的畫也不會無動於衷；也正是因為這點，才激發人們對他的生平和性格懷有好奇心並發生了興趣。 |
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It was not till four years after Strickland's death that Maurice Huret wrote that article in the Mercure de France which rescued the unknown painter from oblivion and blazed the trail which succeeding writers, with more or less docility, have followed. For a long time no critic has enjoyed in France a more incontestable authority, and it was impossible not to be impressed by the claims he made; they seemed extravagant; but later judgments have confirmed his estimate, and the reputation of Charles Strickland is now firmly established on the lines which he laid down. The rise of this reputation is one of the most romantic incidents in the history of art. But I do not propose to deal with Charles Strickland's work except in so far as it touches upon his character. I cannot agree with the painters who claim superciliously that the layman can understand nothing of painting, and that he can best show his appreciation of their works by silence and a cheque-book. It is a grotesque misapprehension which sees in art no more than a craft comprehensible perfectly only to the craftsman: art is a manifestation of emotion, and emotion speaks a language that all may understand. But I will allow that the critic who has not a practical knowledge of technique is seldom able to say anything on the subject of real value, and my ignorance of painting is extreme. Fortunately, there is no need for me to risk the adventure, since my friend, Mr. Edward Leggatt, an able writer as well as an admirable painter, has exhaustively discussed Charles Strickland's work in a little book which is a charming example of a style, for the most part, less happily cultivated in England than in France. |
直到司查爾去世四年後，胡茂瑞在《法蘭西信使》雜誌上發表了那篇文章，才將這位被世人遺忘的無名畫家拯救出來，披荊斬棘為接下來的各位作家開辟了一條新路，而這些作家，或多或少有些畏首畏尾，方敢沿著這條道路步其後塵。在很長一段時間內，法蘭西沒有一個評論家可以挑戰胡茂瑞的權威，他所下的斷言無法不給人留下深刻印象；這些斷言過去看起來似乎誇大其詞；但後人的種種評判給他的推斷下了定論，司查爾的名氣現在已經牢牢根植在他所寫文章的字裏行間。藝術史中有各種最具傳奇色彩的軼聞趣事，司查爾的一舉成名算得上其中一種。但我在此並不打算討論司查爾的作品，除非觸及到他的性格。某些畫家目空一切，聲稱外行對繪畫一無所知，對畫作賞識的最好方式就是默默掏出支票本購買畫作，對此觀點我不敢苟同。這是一種荒誕可笑的誤解，認為藝術隻不過是一種手藝，隻有工匠才能完全理解。藝術其實是情感的流露，而情感所使用的是一種人人都可理解的語言。但我承認，對技藝沒有實際了解的評論家很少能夠在這個問題上說出真正有價值的東西，而我對繪畫一無所知。謝天謝地，我沒有必要冒這個險，因為我的朋友賴愛德先生既是寫作能手，也是令人欽佩的畫家，他在一本小冊子中全麵討論了司查爾的作品，其寫作風格堪稱典範，令人著迷。與法蘭西相比，這種文風的養成，英格蘭在很大程度上遠不盡如人意。 |
