Frederick Walker and his works . ystem ofelaboration from several distinct centres renders his work difficult to takeinto the eye or the mind as whole, and appreciably best bv passing fromone to another of its motives. The best episode in the picture is thepathetically suggestive central group gathered round the statue in thecentre of the quadrangle—that of the shipwrecked of life, anchored atlast in a safe harbour after many storms. To the right we have the well-known figure ot the mower, more classical still than the tustian-clad divinityof the Old Gate, and more self-conscious in its measur
Frederick Walker and his works . ystem ofelaboration from several distinct centres renders his work difficult to takeinto the eye or the mind as whole, and appreciably best bv passing fromone to another of its motives. The best episode in the picture is thepathetically suggestive central group gathered round the statue in thecentre of the quadrangle—that of the shipwrecked of life, anchored atlast in a safe harbour after many storms. To the right we have the well-known figure ot the mower, more classical still than the tustian-clad divinityof the Old Gate, and more self-conscious in its measured grace. To theleft, slowly moving along the stone terrace, from which descends a flightof steps is a group more admired still, that of the sturdy, red-haired lasswho, dreaming as she walks, supports on her strong young arm a poorold dame, sans eyes, sans teeth, sa>!s everything : on the one hand dreamsof the tutiux, on the other dreams of the past. Here, as in the case ot^ Studied from tlic Fishmongers Almshouses at FREDERICK li^ALKER 59 the splendid young mower, the contrast between youth and age is movingenough, but too deliberate, too much forced upon the beholder, to attainits full effect. The composition is straggling and episodic ; it lacks con-centration both of line and motive, and as in The l^agrantSy and TheOld Gate, we have rather beautiful elements of a picture than apicture. We may each of us pick out our favourite figure, our favouritepassage of lovely detail or colour, and from no part is beauty absent; butwe cannot, without preliminary study, take in the impression of thepicture as a whole, because it is not seen or felt as a whole. The Harbour of Refuge is now, through the munificence of Agnew, the property of the nation. Its present place is on ascreen in the Turner Room, where it is crushed by its mighty surround-ings—those canvases so tremendous in power, even when they are mightymistakes. A finished replica, executed on a smaller
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Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bo, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookidfrederickwalkerh00phil
