Cleobis and Biton, Ex-voto, Apollo Sanctuary, Delphi, c. 590–580 B. C. Marble, h: 218 and 216 cm. Archaeological Museum, Delphi.
Kore 671, Acropolis, Athens, c. 520 B. C. Marble, h: 177 cm. Acropolis Museum, Athens.
Kore 593, Acropolis, Athens, c. 560–550 B. C. Marble, h: 99.5 cm. Acropolis Museum, Athens.
Kore 685, Acropolis, Athens, c. 500–490 B. C. Marble, h: 122 cm. Acropolis Museum, Athens.
Such instances compel the primitive artist to turn to nature for information. This he can do in two ways – either by observing more thoughtfully, and thus gaining a clearer mental image, or by actually copying the missing parts from a model. The latter way, natural though it may seem, is not so readily resorted to as the first, probably because it would introduce an entirely different quality into the work – the individual instead of the type. It is, moreover, well-known that children gifted with pencil and clever at drawing are often unable to make an intelligible copy of a definite model.
The primitive artist is the interpreter of his people’s general tendencies. When he for the first time expresses his and their mental images, such copies serve a significant end in the development of the race. If its people are sincere and imbued with a search for truth, the accuracy or inaccuracy of these embodied mental images will be checked by unconscious comparisons with natural objects, resulting in a readjustment of initially incorrect mental images. The new ideas will again be expressed by some later artist, and the process of readjustment will be repeated. This was the case with the Greeks. The period of historic Greek art was short, yet sufficiently long to enable the Greeks to advance to the point where mental images of objects suitable for presentation in sculpture are so delicate that pressing them is almost identical with copying nature.
The development in Greece was diametrically opposed to what took place, for instance, in Egypt or Assyria. The earliest art expressions in these countries were far ahead of the crude attempts by the Greeks. But instead of using them to clarify memory concepts, their people remained satisfied with them, with subsequent generations content to view them as binding prototypes. Egyptian or Assyrian statuary in later times cannot claim to be the genuine expression of those people’s ideals. While we may examine a Greek statue and learn of the moral and intellectual attitude of the Greeks at the time it was made, we cannot do the same with an Egyptian or Assyrian relief – at least not to the same extent. This is also largely true of sculpture in modern times. The modern artist has the entire wealth of ancient and Renaissance sculpture at his disposal, and is often willing to copy or adapt their types, making only such alterations as the tastes of his own time imperatively demand. American sculpture, for instance, beautiful as it is in some of its phases, shows a rapid and most remarkable increase in skill, but can hardly be said to reveal the gradual development of the ideals of the people.
It has so far been tacitly assumed that the skill of the artist at any given time enabled him to accurately present his mental images. This was, however, not always the case with the Greeks. Their unusually spirited mental development was such that the technical skill of the artists could not keep pace with it, and until the autumn days of their art generally fell short of their ideals. As soon as a representational problem was solved, the increasing accuracy of the mental images presented another; and when all the problems of the limited range of subjects first represented had found their solutions, new subjects were urgently clamouring for representation. The end of Greek sculpture may have come when all technical problems were resolved and the people’s mental degeneration made them unwilling to accept the moral and religious views of the new era, leaving them with few worthy ideas to express.
Capitoline Venus, Roman copy after a Greek original by Praxiteles around the 3rd century B. C. Marble, h: 193 cm. Musei Capitolini, Rome.
Imperfection of, or excellence in skill, however, have other influences. Since mental images are the involuntary result of frequent exposure to great objects, they are influenced as well by the numerous statues of men as by men themselves. This is especially true of modern times when Puritanical disregard for the body has created a state of affairs where it is sometimes difficult to form intelligent ideas of the human body except from statues and pictures. Often, nobility of mind and body are closely connected, and since the noblest people are rarely found among professional models; for this reason bodies are rarely represented. Coarseness of some nudes in modern art can perhaps be explained by artists feeling obliged to copy the best models obtainable, instead of forming their own refined mental images through observation of the noblest bodies.
The effect of statues upon the mental images of the Greeks was probably less powerful than it is with us, since the Greeks were more familiar with nude bodies, both male and female. They had, however, infinitely more statues, and could not possibly remain entirely uninfluenced by them.
An artist, therefore, firstly expresses the ideas of his people, and by so doing influences them for better or worse. The next artist endeavouring to express the mental images of his contemporaries finds them no longer the primitive product of a crude observation of nature, but instead a combination of the original conceptions and new ideas. These new ideas are due partly to the impressions received from the first artist’s work and partly to the general change that has taken place in the character of the people, owing to their moral and intellectual advance.
The rapid growth of Greek sculpture is undeniable; the primary aim of the artists, however, seems always to have been the same – to represent truly the clearest mental images of the time.
The Appeal of Greek Sculpture
Even the most extreme type of materialists admits that a world of bare facts and dry bones is uninteresting and unnecessary. Thoughts that come in evening’s stillness are real, and few men faced with a forest’s majestic solitude remain indifferent; they come away awed by greater forces beyond the reach of their eyes. Such observations are as true of one’s most familiar surroundings as of the rare moments in every one’s life. Our friends mean more to us than the mere pleasure we obtain from observation. In fact, we seldom examine them truly. One glance suffices to relate their presence, and after this first glimpse our enjoyment becomes almost entirely psychical.
This does not, however, exclude enjoying the physical pleasure in seeing them, particularly if their body lines glide easily and rhythmically over our eyes. What holds true for friends is also true of lesser-known persons, even strangers. Seeing them means a great deal more than seeing a table or a chair, for these objects generally suggest nothing beyond what is actually seen. No thoughtful person can see an individual without coming – to some extent – in contact with his personality. Thus, a picture provoking admiration for its perfect technique is valuable as a work of art only if it conveys an idea. An object’s external appearance may appeal to us visually, but its spiritual essence must strike our imaginations. This vision is a purely physical faculty; the imagination, a noble acquisition of humanity. Enjoyment of one is not, however, wholly independent of the other, for the intricacies of human nature are such that it is impossible to say where the one begins and the other ends. The artist, therefore, must consider both, and since his appeal to the imagination is made through the senses, he must studiously avoid all friction with them. This is perfectly in keeping with the experience of great poets, who cannot successfully transmit their thoughts unless they refrain from offending the ear by harsh cadences.
Crouching Venus, Roman copy after a Greek original from the 1st-2nd century B. C. Marble, h: 96 cm. Musée du Louvre, Paris.
Statue of Dr. Sombrotidès, Megara, c. 550 B. C. Marble, h: 119 cm. Archaeological Museum, Syracuse.
Calf Bearer (Moschophoros), Acropolis, Athens, c. 560 B. C. Marble, h: 165 cm. Acropolis Museum, Athens.
Silenus