Murillo — Background and Themes

A Defensive Stance and Shifting Tastes

Bensusan's opening paragraphs establish a clear rhetorical stance: he is writing against the grain of contemporary criticism. He describes the "pendulum of taste" swinging away from Murillo, and insists that the painter "remains, despite them all, one of the world's teachers." This framing is not neutral biography but a deliberate rehabilitation. The author's language is evaluative throughout, calling Murillo's work "splendid" and his devotion "steadfast." Readers should note that Bensusan does not hide his partisanship; he explicitly argues that ignoring Murillo's merits "is not as it should be." This defensive tone colors every subsequent description, making the monograph as much a piece of early 20th-century art criticism as a factual account.

Vivid Critiques of Restoration and Collectors

One of the most distinctive features of Bensusan's prose is his sharp, sometimes sarcastic commentary on art restoration and French looting. He compares Spanish restorers unfavorably to "the African witch doctor" and imagines a literary parallel: if Shakespeare's sonnets had been "restored by that 'philosopher true,' the late Martin Tupper." These analogies are specific and memorable, revealing Bensusan's frustration with what he sees as damage to Murillo's originals. He also repeatedly targets Marshal Soult, who "cast his rapacious, but well cultivated, regard" upon paintings and whose "penchant" for Murillo's work left Spanish churches and hospitals depleted. These passages inject a polemical energy into the text, distinguishing it from a dry catalogue.

From General Survey to Local Detail

After the initial biographical overview, the narrative narrows its focus to Seville's religious institutions. Bensusan describes visiting the Caridad hospital, where he spent "long hours" amid "the sights and sounds of suffering" to study the remaining canvases. This shift from broad historical context to personal, place-based observation changes the pace of the book. The author lingers on the legend of Don Miguel Manara, a "desperate sinner turned saint" whose conversion story is recounted with novelistic flair. The prose becomes more anecdotal and immersive, contrasting with the earlier summary style. Readers will notice this change in register as Bensusan moves from defending Murillo's reputation to evoking the atmosphere of the sites where his art still hangs.

Bensusan's monograph rewards attention to its rhetorical strategies: the defensive opening, the caustic asides about restorers and collectors, and the shift toward localized, anecdotal description. Readers interested in early 20th-century art criticism will find as much to analyze in the author's voice as in his subject. The text is best approached not as a neutral biography but as a passionate, opinionated defense of a painter whose reputation was then in flux.

Reading Bensusan’s quiet fury over ruined canvases, I thought of my grandfather’s hands hovering over a flaking family portrait, afraid to touch. And I remembered the same tender exasperation in Lives of the most Eminent Painters Sculptors and Architects, Vol. 10 (of 10) Bronzino to Vasari, & General Index. — Inside the Classic, where restorers are treated as gentle vandals. Some losses simply refuse to be undone, and both books let me mourn that quietly.