King of Bohemia, asking Charles VII for the hand of his daughter, Madeleine,” which he exhibited at the Salon in 1878. From that time onward, his big pictures became more and more numerous, making their way to England, America and even Australia. This son of a humble blacksmith from the neighbourhood of Plzeň achieved a world-wide reputation. In his canvases, the glorious periods and the leading lights of Czech and universal history served as a pretext for introducing enormous groups of faces and figures and a sumptuous display of costumes and accessories.
While we may visit him with the usual disparagement that painters of this calibre have to face, we must not overlook his merits. In the first place, he is an admirable colourist. His expressive hues have nothing in common with the dry and pallid colouring of Piloty. On the other hand, as compared with Matejko’s oriental violence, Brožík’s colour-scheme appears well-balanced, free from eccentricities. The brilliance and warmth of his palette are the perfectly natural outcome of a patient and loving study of the old masters, first and foremost of that great Antwerp master to whom he paid an enthusiastic tribute in the gigantic picture entitled, “An Entertainment at Rubens’ House.” No doubt Brožík’s great devices are often nothing more than the arrangements of a skilful stage-manager, redolent alike of the theatre and of the studio; but there are some whose pathos does not by any means ring false, and before which every true Czech heart must feel moved. This is unquestionably the case with “The Condemnation of Jan Hus at Constance,” a work that has endeared itself to the whole nation. Very pleasing, too, are his easel pictures, done while on holiday in Normandy, and representing unpretentious scenes of everyday peasant life. They are on an altogether different plane from his great historical pictures, with their entirely theatrical mechanism. Here the artist breathes the fresh air that was lacking in his studio, here
