742 743
Chapter 9.
The old neglected palazzo, with its lofty carved ceilings and fres-
coes on the walls, with its floors of mosaic, with its heavy yellow stuff
curtains on the windows, with its vases on pedestals, and its open
fireplaces, its carved doors and gloomy reception rooms, hung with
pictures—this palazzo did much, by its very appearance after they had
moved into it, to confirm in Vronsky the agreeable illusion that he was
not so much a Russian country gentleman, a retired army officer, as an
enlightened amateur and patron of the arts, himself a modest artist
who had renounced the world, his connections, and his ambition for
the sake of the woman he loved.
The pose chosen by Vronsky with their removal into the palazzo
was completely successful, and having, through Golenishtchev, made
acquaintance with a few interesting people, for a time he was satisfied.
He painted studies from nature under the guidance of an Italian pro-
fessor of painting, and studied medieval Italian life. Medieval Italian
life so fascinated Vronsky that he even wore a hat and flung a cloak
over his shoulder in the medieval style, which, indeed, was extremely
becoming to him.
“Here we live, and know nothing of what’s going on,” Vronsky said
to Golenishtchev as he came to see him one morning. “Have you seen
Mihailov’s picture?” he said, handing him a Russian gazette he had
received that morning, and pointing to an article on a Russian artist,
living in the very same town, and just finishing a picture which had
long been talked about, and had been bought beforehand. The article
reproached the government and the academy for letting so remarkable
an artist be left without encouragement and support.
“I’ve seen it,” answered Golenishtchev. “Of course, he’s not with-
out talent, but it’s all in a wrong direction. It’s all the Ivanov-Strauss-
Renan attitude to Christ and to religious painting.”
“What is the subject of the picture?” asked Anna.
“Christ before Pilate. Christ is represented as a Jew with all the
realism of the new school.”
And the question of the subject of the picture having brought him
to one of his favorite theories, Golenishtchev launched forth into a
disquisition on it.
“I can’t understand how they can fall into such a gross mistake.
Christ always has His definite embodiment in the art of the great
masters. And therefore, if they want to depict, not God, but a revolu-
tionist or a sage, let them take from history a Socrates, a Franklin, a
Charlotte Corday, but not Christ. They take the very figure which
cannot be taken for their art, and then...”
“And is it true that this Mihailov is in such poverty?” asked Vronsky,
thinking that, as a Russian Maecenas, it was his duty to assist the artist
regardless of whether the picture were good or bad.
“I should say not. He’s a remarkable portrait-painter. Have you
ever seen his portrait of Madame Vassiltchikova? But I believe he
doesn’t care about painting any more portraits, and so very likely he is
in want. I maintain that...”
“Couldn’t we ask him to paint a portrait of Anna Arkadyevna?”
said Vronsky.