Chapter III: Illusion of Suspension and Motion in the Air (1)

With the assistance of drapery--Of clouds--Of winged
figures--Miscellaneous devices.

The representation of figures suspended in the air, or moving through it, has never offered much trouble to painters, though necessarily involving an apparent miracle. The very slightest pretended physical assistance suffices for the illusion, and this help is usually rendered in the shape of flying drapery, winged figures, clouds, or artificial devices based upon the contact of two or more figures. The only difficulty met with is in respect of an upward vertical movement. Here, wings or clouds can scarcely be made to differentiate between a rising and a falling movement, and flying drapery is of little service inasmuch as a rush through the air would, if the feat were actually performed, cause the drapery to cling to the figure. The surest remedy for the disabilty is to support the figure directly by winged figures placed at a considerable angle from the vertical, but this plan is only rarely adopted by great masters because of the consequent complications in the design of the group. Since flying drapery is commonly added to the figure presumed to be ascending, and seeing that artists almost invariably insist upon giving their ascending figures upright attitudes, it is seldom that the movement is correctly expressed. Usually the figure appears to be held immovably in suspension, but occasionally, owing to the drapery arrangement, a descending movement is indicated.[a] Without the assistance of winged figures, the illusion of ascension can only be given when the figure is shown directed upwards at an angle of at least fifteen or twenty degrees from the vertical. As a rule the larger the angle, the more easy is the production of an illusion. With a fairly large angle, and an appropriate arrangement of limbs and drapery, heavy figures can be made to appear naturally ascending, as in Rubens's Boreas and Orithyia, both voluptuous forms.[b]

[a] As in Murillo's Ascension of Christ, Madrid Academy.

[b] Venice Academy.

Only a very few of the first artists have been able to give an illusion of movement in the air by use of drapery alone, the device adopted by Michelangelo in the Sistine Chapel frescoes being perhaps the most effective. He throws behind the moving figure of the Deity a large fold of drapery, which assumes an oval or nearly round shape, the whole acting as a concave framework for the Deity and attending Angels.[a] The success of the plan arises of course from the apparent resistance to the air offered by a large and compact surface. This form with more or less marked modifications in the concavity was probably used by the ancient Greeks in their paintings, as a nearly similar arrangement is found in a sculptured figure which has come down to us, though in this case a running movement is indicated.[b] It is also seen in some Pompeian frescoes, where it is applied to figures moving through the air and on the ground.[c] Raphael adopted the device occasionally,[d] but generally varied it with excellent effect by flowing out from the waist a large scarf-like fold to take a circular form above the head and shoulders of the figure,[e] or by causing heavy drapery to flow out from the lower part of the body.[f] No doubt in the case of Raphael, the extraordinary grace of figure, and the perfect pose of the limbs, assist the illusion. Tintoretto and other artists of the Renaissance used an oval drapery in a similar way; while sometimes the figure is half hidden within it,[g] and Le Sueur wrapped part of the figure in folds before forming the oval.[h] There seems to be a simple virtue in any oval form connected with figures presumed to be suspended in the air. It was quite common in the early days of the Renaissance for the Deity or Virgin and Child to be placed in a regular oval framework, sometimes supported by Angels or cherubs, and the illusion was usually successful.[i] Rubens by way of experiment went a little further in one picture, for he placed the Virgin and Child in an oval picture frame supported by cherubs.[j] This however does not seem so novel as some of Perugino's ovals which are bordered with the heads of cherubs.[k]

[a] See Plate 24.

[b] The Son of Niobe, Uffizi Gallery, Florence.[72]

[c] Herculanum et Pompei, vol. iv., by Roux Aine.

[d] Ceiling of the Hall of Heliodorus, Vatican.

[e] Vatican frescoes God Separating Water and Earth, and God Appearing
to Isaac.

[f] The Creation of the Sun and Moon.

[g] Poussin's St. Francis Zavier, Louvre.

[h] The Virgin appearing to St. Martin.

[i] See the Assumption of Orcagna, and of Luca di Tome; Giunto
Pisano's Christ and the Virgin; and Mainardi's Madonna giving
her Girdle to St. Thomas.

[j] Virgin and Child, Chiesa Nuovo, Rome.

[k] Ascension of Christ, Perugia; Assumption, Florence Academy, and
others.

Wings are seldom sufficient to suggest lightness in the air, because they can scarcely be designed of the size and strength which we judge to be proportionate to the presumed weight of the body, without making the form appear abnormal, though there are instances in which partial success has been achieved by using comparatively small figures and giving them unusually large wings.[a] The use of more than a single pair of wings is hardly permissible because of the apparent anomaly. Actually one pair is not less incomprehensible from an anatomical point of view than several pairs, but custom has driven from our minds any suggestion of incongruity in respect of the representation of the common type of Angel. Naturally when skilfully arranged, the more wings, the stronger the illusion of flight, and if a habit of giving four wings to an Angel were engendered, we should perhaps see nothing strange in them. Even six wings have been given to Angels without making them appear ungraceful.[b]

[a] J. H. Witt's Bless the Lord.

[b] Picart's The Burning Coal.

When there is no assistance, as clouds or flowing drapery, lent to Angels to promote the illusion of suspension, it is necessary to give them an attitude which is nearly horizontal. Properly managed, a pair of comparatively small wings may in this way appear to support a heavy form.[a] Luini actually adds the weight of the body of St. Catherine to three Angels, flying horizontally, who carry her to the tomb[b]; an invention, strangely enough, followed by Kulmbach in Germany at about the same time.[c] In both cases the illusion is excellent. Some of the early Flemish and German masters, including Van Eyck[d] and Holbein,[e] employed Angels in scenes with the Virgin to hold suspended behind her seat, large falls of brocaded material, and it is curious to note that the Angels themselves seem to be supported by the drapery. In order to assist the suggestion of lightness, Perugino sometimes arched the lower limbs of the Angels, adding a narrow tape scroll[f]; an addition improved upon by Raphael who substituted for the scroll a loosened girdle flying out from the waist.[g]

[a] Rembrandt's The Angel quitting Tobias, Louvre.

[b] The Brera, Milan.

[c] St. Mary's, Krakan.

[d] Virgin and Child at the Fountain, Antwerp.

[e] Virgin and Child, Augsburg.

[f] The Ascension, Borgo San Sepolcro, Perugia.

[g] Creation of Woman, Castello Gallery; Prophets and Sybils, Perugia,
and others.

The most frequently used form of support for figures in suspension are irregular masses of clouds, upon which the figures sit or stand, and occasionally are partly enfolded therein. Sometimes the cloud bank is more or less shaped for the purpose of relief, or for variety in design. Thus, Raphael makes part of the cloud a perfect footrest for the Virgin,[a] and Palma Giovane does a similar thing for a figure of Christ,[b] but in this case the illusion is hazarded as the seat is not directly indicated. Ingres produces an excellent illusion by making the footrest a small separate cloud,[c] which is a variation from the practice of many painters of the Renaissance, who used a separate cloud for each personage in the composition, or even with each foot as with Carlo Crivelli.[d] In a fresco of the Evangelists at Florence, each of them sits with his insignia on a foliated bank of clouds.[e] Perugino in using a similar plan sometimes places the clouds at the bottom of the picture, no part of the earth being seen, so that the illusion is considerably enhanced.[f] At other times he shows Angels apparently running through the air, with each front foot resting on a tiny cloud, giving the impression that it is fastened there.[g] Durer extended this plan by directly attaching a small cloud to each foot, the effect being somewhat whimsical.[h] Titian was unsuccessful in the use of an isolated cloud.[i] In a Resurrection scene Christ stands on a small thin cloud, and holds a flag-pole, the lower end of which rests upon the cloud. Obviously with such a design no suggestion of ascent can enter the mind.

[a] Foligna Madonna, Vatican.

[b] Christ in Judgment, Venice.

[c] The Oath of Louis XIII.

[d] Coronation of the Virgin, Milan.

[e] Santa Maria. By an unknown artist of the Ghirlandaio school.

[f] Christ's Rule.

[g] Madonna and Child with Penitents, and others.

[h] The Virgin with a Canary, Berlin.

[i] Urbino Gallery.

Some artists, as Luca Signorelli,[a] hide the lower part of the figure behind clouds, but this method, while indicating suspension, cannot provide an illusion of movement without an assisting device. Thus Schonherr shows an Angel so concealed in a nearly horizontal position with wings fully expanded, the effect being good.[b] When a figure is suspended on clouds, very rarely indeed is repose emphasized by placing it in a horizontal position, but Poussin once adopts the plan,[c] and Guercino goes so far as to represent a reclining Angel resting her head on her hand as if suffering from fatigue.[d] Perfect repose of the Deity in an upright position on clouds is produced by Gustave Dore, who reduces the size of the earth, above which He stands, to an insignificant proportion, so that the imagination sends it moving round below Him.[e]

[a] Madonna and Child in Glory, Arezzo.

[b] The Agony in the Garden.

[c] Adam and Eve.

[d] Martyrdom of St. Peter, Modena.

[e] Creation of the Earth.

Quite a number of artists represent the suspended figures standing on the backs of cherubs or cupids, which in their turn are supported by clouds, as for instance, R. Ghirlandaio,[a] Liberale di Verona,[b] and Francesco da Cotignola.[c] Fra Bartolommeo places a single foot of the Deity on a cherub who holds a banderole, the illusion being excellent.[d] Domenichino adopts a most ingenious device in St. Paul's Vision. He shows the Apostle being carried to Heaven by winged cherubs, who appear to find the weight considerable, and to struggle under it. There is little else to induce the illusion, which is complete.[e] A similar scheme is successfully managed in Prud'hon's Abduction of Psyche. Tassaert uses a like device, but in addition has a cherub supporting each arm of the Virgin. Palma Vecchio makes the Virgin stand on the outstretched wings of a cherub, but her robe blows upwards, giving her the appearance of descending instead of ascending.[f] Rubens has three alternatives in the use of cherubs. The figure sits on clouds with feet resting on small globes sustained by cherubs[g]; or the cherubs hold the dress and mantle of the Virgin; or they help to control the clouds upon which she sits.[h] In some of his pictures of the Immaculate Conception, Murillo also uses globes, but places the cherubs on them instead of under. Francia has a picture in which cherubs hold up clouds bearing the Virgin,[i] a device once used by Rembrandt.[j] Genga shows the Deity kneeling upon the heads of cherubs, a scheme not satisfactory.[k] Cherubs were used by Titian to hold up the Virgin and clouds,[l] while Velasquez rested the robes on clouds, but used cherubs to sustain the Holy Mother.[m]

[a] The Madonna giving her Girdle to St. Thomas, Prato.

[b] The Magdalene and Saints.

[c] Adoration of the Shepherds, Ravenna Academy.

[d] The Deity with SS. Catherine and Magdalene.

[e] Assumption of the Virgin.

[f] Assumption of the Virgin, Venice.

[g] The Deity and Christ, Weimar.

[h] Assumption of the Virgin at Dusseldorf, Augsburg, Brussels, and
Vienna.

[i] Madonna and Child in Glory, Berlin.

[j] The Ascension, Munich.

[k] The Magdalene and Saints, Milan.

[l] Assumption of the Virgin, Venice.

[m] Coronation of the Virgin, Madrid.

The illusion is usually more complete when Angels are used instead of cherubs for support, apparently because they may be presumed to have greater strength, and the plan was adopted by some of the earlier masters of the Renaissance. The simple design of Rubens in resting the foot of Christ on the arm of a flying Angel is quite successful.[a] Fontana places the Deity on clouds supported by Angels,[b] a method adopted by Granacci, who however assists the illusion by adding two Angels who are directly supporting the figure.[c] Peter Cornelius has the Deity with His foot on a small globe which is held in position by Angels.[d] A fine example of their use is shown by Gutherz. Two Angels with large outstretched wings are bearing the body of a woman to Heaven. She lies recumbent upon a lengthy hammock formed by the robes of the Angels, the ends of the drapery being gathered up by the flying cherubs.[e] The illusion is perfect. Rembrandt also has a beautiful design in a Resurrection scene, for he shows the figure of Christ as a shade whose hands are held by a flying Angel lifting Him to Heaven.[f] A few artists, as Poussin[g] and Bouguereau,[h] use Angels to carry the figure with no other assisting device, but if the body is recumbent it is necessary that the Angels should be in a nearly upright position, otherwise they will appear to be moving horizontally.[i] Rubens in an Ascension uses the strange method of placing an Angel beneath Christ, but without touching Him.[j] The drapery flies out at the back, so that without some assistance he would appear to be descending; but the Angel below, with her hands held up, seems to correct the position. Guido Reni carries the Virgin up with Angels who support her beneath, and she seems in fact to be standing on their shoulders.[k] In one instance Correggio substitutes a smiling boy for an Angel, and he holds up a cloud on which the Virgin sits.[l] There are many works where winged figures hold a body in suspension, most of them providing excellent illusions. Among the best is Lux's Sarpedon, where the body of the Trojan is held up for Jupiter to kiss.[m]

[a] Ascension of Christ, Vienna.

[b] Vision of the Resurrection.

[c] The Virgin giving her Girdle to St. Thomas, Uffizi Gallery,
Florence.

[d] Let there be Light.

[e] "They shall bear thee up."

[f] Munich Gallery.

[g] Assumption of the Virgin, and Vision of St. Paul.

[h] Assumption of the Virgin.

[i] Bouguereau's Une Ame au Ciel.

[j] The Academy, Venice.

[k] Assumption of the Virgin, Munich.

[l] Madonna and Child with Saints, Parma.

[m] The Luxembourg.

Even a simple banderole or scarf suffices to indicate movement in the air if well arranged. Usually a flying cherub holds an end of the banderole, and Ferri shows a wingless putto even, flying with no other assistance.[a] Boucher creates an illusion by the bold device of connecting two cupids with a narrow scarf blown out into a semicircle[b]; and in another instance very narrow tape streamers suffice.[c]

[a] David plans a Temple.

[b] Birth of Venus.

[c] Altdorfer's Nativity at Berlin.

The use of thick smoke for suspension purposes is nearly always successful, because volumes of smoke in nature necessarily tend to move upwards; but obviously this scheme can only be arranged when an altar is possible. The plan is not uncommon in pictures relating to Cain and Abel, and the Translation of Enoch. In one of the latter subject, Hoet makes part of the smoke from an altar envelop the surrounding ground so as to widen the volume, while Schnorr achieves the same end by curling round the smoke as it ascends into the form of a large saucer upon which the Deity sits,[a] a method slightly varied by Amiconi.[b]

[a] God's Promise to Abraham.

[b] God Appearing to Moses.

Where a number of figures are connected together in a circular form in the air, the double illusion of suspension and motion follows naturally, provided their attitudes indicate a circular movement. An excellent example of this is shown in a picture by Botticelli, where Angels dance in the air over the hut of the Nativity.[a] The finest work of the kind in existence is probably Schwind's Pleiads, in which the stars are represented by a circle of beautiful nude women.[b] Extraordinary activity is suggested by the perfect arrangement of the limbs and light flowing drapery used. Bouguereau has a work of a similar kind, The Lost Pleiad, but here the dancers are upright, and the circle is only accessory to the title figure.[c] Watteau is fairly successful in giving an illusion of suspension to cupids even with a half circle, though the invention is somewhat formal.[d]

[a] National Gallery, London.

[b] Denner Collection. See Plate 25.

[c] Brooklyn Museum, New York.

[d] The Berlin example of the Embarkation for Cythera.

Some of the devices used to bring about an illusion are most ingenious. Thus in his Bacchus and Ariadne,[a] Tintoretto actually applies a disability of his art for the purpose. Venus is shown in a horizontal position in the air, placing a crown of stars upon the head of Ariadne. Bacchus is standing by, and the form of the goddess floats just at the back of him, the lower side of her hip being on a level with the top of his head. Seeing that the head is covered with a profusion of vine leaves, it is impossible for the artist to indicate, or the observer to recognize, that the goddess does not actually touch the head of Bacchus, and she apparently balances herself upon his head while crowning Ariadne, the artist having been careful to place the centre of gravity of her figure over the apparent point of contact. A similar kind of illusion is provided by Burne-Jones, whose Angel of the Annunciation is upright in midair near the ground, but her feet seem to find support on the branches of a shrub.[b] Rossetti, in the same subject, shows the Angel with his feet wrapped in flames, the weight being thus apparently removed. The design seems bizarre, perhaps because of the absence of an expression of surprise which one would expect to see on the countenance of the Virgin at so extraordinary a phenomenon.[73] Schwind also uses a disability of his art for an illusion in his Phantom of the Forest.[c] She moves near the ground away from the spectator with such rapidity that her robe, a simple rectangular piece of drapery, has opened out wide from the front, and hides her figure from the shoulders down, so that from the point of view of the observer she may, or may not, be touching the ground as she moves.

[a] Ducal Palace, Venice.

[b] Tate Gallery, London.

[c] Schack Gallery, Munich.

How slight the apparent support need be, is indicated in Bouguereau's Aurora and Twilight. Each figure is represented by a nude woman holding a light scarf, the first rapidly, and the second slowly, skimming the surface of a stream of water with soft touches of the feet, and yet there is no anomaly that strikes the mind. A still more daring device is used by Battistello, though quite successfully. He places two wingless putti in the air, but one holds up the other, and this action seems to sustain them both.[a] Another amazing design is from the hand of A. P. Roll, who shows a nude-man in the air clutching another, and apparently struggling to pull him down, yet the action seems perfectly natural.[b]

[a] Adoration of the Shepherds, San Martino, Naples.

[b] Design for the Petit Palais, Paris.

* * * * *

NOTES

NOTE 1. PAGE 2

It is usual and proper to distinguish three kinds of beauty in painting, namely, of colour, of form, and of expression. But form must be defined by tones, and colour without form is meaningless: hence in the general consideration of the painter's art, it is convenient to place form and colour together as representing the sensorial element of beauty. Nevertheless colour and form are not on the same plane in regard to sense perception. Harmony of colour is distinguished involuntarily by nerve sensations, but in the case of harmony of form there must be a certain consideration before its aesthetic determination. The recognition of this harmony commonly appears to be instantaneous, but still it is delayed, the delay varying with the complexity of the signs, that is to say, with the quality of the beauty.

NOTE 2. PAGE 2

Benedetto Croce, the inventor of the latest serious aesthetic system, talks of the "science of art," but he says[a]:

Science--true science, is a science of the spirit--Philosophy.
Natural sciences spoken of apart from philosophy, are complexes
of knowledge, arbitrarily abstracted and fixed.

It is perhaps needless to say that Croce's aesthetic system, like all the others, collapses on a breath of inquiry. On the purely philosophical side of it, further criticism is unnecessary, and its practical outcome from the point of view of art is not far removed from the amazing conclusions of Hegel. From the latter philosopher we learn that an idol in the form of a stone pillar, or an animal set up by the primitive races, is higher art than a drama by Shakespeare, or a portrait by Titian, because it represents the Idea (Hegel's unintelligible abstraction--see Note 5), while Croce tells us that "the art of savages is not inferior, as art, to that of civilized peoples, provided it be correlated to the impressions of the savages." Clearly if this be so, we are not surprised to learn from Croce that Aristotle "failed to discern the true nature of the aesthetic." Nevertheless, whatever be the outcome of Croce's arguments, his system is at least more plausible than that of either Hegel or Schopenhauer, for while these two invent highly improbable abstractions upon which to base their systems, Croce only gives new functions to an old and reasonable abstraction.

[a] _Aesthetic_, Douglas Ainslie Translation, 1909.

NOTE 3. PAGE 3

The writer does not mean to suggest that these systems are set up for the purpose of being knocked down: he desires only to indicate surprise that in new works dealing with the perception of beauty, it is considered necessary to restate the old aesthetic theories and to point out their drawbacks, albeit the fatal objections to them are so numerous that there is always fresh ground available for destructive criticism. The best of the recent works on the subject that have come under the notice of the writer, is E. F. Carritt's review of the present position in respect of aesthetic systems. Though profound, he is so comprehensive that he leaves little or nothing of importance for succeeding critics to say till the next system is put forward. Yet here is his conclusion[a]:

If any point can be thought to have emerged from the foregoing
considerations, it is this: that in the history of aesthetics we
may discover a growing pressure of emphasis upon the doctrine that
all beauty is the expression of what may be generally called
emotion, and that all such expression is beautiful.

This is all that an acute investigator can draw from the sum of the aesthetic systems advanced. Now what does this mean? Let us turn to the last page of Carritt's book and find the object of the search after a satisfactory aesthetic system. It is, he says, "the desire to understand goodness and beauty and their relations with each other or with knowledge, as well as to practise or enjoy them." If we accept beauty as the expression of emotion, how far have we progressed towards the indicated goal? Not a step, for we have only agreed upon a new way of stating an obvious condition which applies to the animal world as well as to human beings. Beyond this there is nothing--not a glimpse of sunshine from all the aesthetic systems laid down since the time of Baumgarten.

More than twenty years ago Leo Tolstoy pointed out the unintelligible character of these systems, but no further light has been thrown upon them. Nevertheless Tolstoy's own interpretation of the significance of beauty cannot possibly meet with general approval. He disputes that art is directly associated with beauty or pleasure, and finds in fact that what we call the beautiful representation of nature is not necessarily art, but that[b]

Art is a human activity, consisting in this, that one man
consciously, by means of certain external signs, hands on to others
feelings he has lived through, and that other people are affected
by these feelings, and also experience them.

This definition may mean almost anything, and particularly it may imply pure imitation which Tolstoy condemns as outside of art. But it certainly does not include many forms of what we call art, the author specially condemning for instance, _Romeo and Juliet_, and declaring that while _Faust_ is beautiful, "it cannot produce a really artistic impression." The definition then seems to represent little more than a quibble over terms. Tolstoy says that the beautiful representation of nature is not art, but something else is. Very well then, all we have to do is to find a new term for this representation of nature, and the position remains as before except that the meaning of the term "art" has been changed.

[a] _The Theory of Beauty_, 1914.

[b] _What is Art?_ Aylmer Maude Translation.

NOTE 4. PAGE 8

The evolutionary principle has been applied to art by Herbert Spencer and J. A. Symonds, but not in the sense in which it is used in connection with the development of living organisms. Spencer traces a progression from the simple to the complex in the application of the arts, but not in the arts themselves[a]; and Symonds endeavours to prove that each separate marked period of art shows a progression which is common to all; that is, from immature variations to a high type, then downwards through a lower form represented by romanticism or elegance, to realism, and from this to hybrid forms.[b] Spencer's argument is suggestive, but his conclusions have been mostly upset by archaeological discoveries made since his great book was published. The illustrations given by Symonds are highly illuminating, but they are very far from postulating a general law of evolution operating in the production of art.

[a] _First Principles_.

[b] Essay on _Evolutionary Principles_.

NOTE 5. PAGE 8

It seems necessary to mention Hegel's art periods, though one can only do so with a feeling of regret that a man who achieved a high reputation as a philosopher should have entered the province of art only to misconstrue its purpose with fantastic propositions which have no historical or other apparent foundation. He divides art history into Symbolic, Classic, and Romantic periods respectively. To accomplish this he invents or discovers a new abstraction which he calls the Idea, this representing man's conception, not of God, but of His perfection--His supreme qualities, so that in one sense the Idea may be called the Absolute, in another the Spirit, and in another, Truth. These terms are in fact interchangeable, and each may be a manifestation of another, or of God. This Idea, he says, being perfect beauty, is the basic concept of art. In archaic times man was unable to give expression to this concept, so he represented it by symbols: hence the earliest art was Symbolic art. In the time of the Greeks man had so advanced that he was able to give higher expression to the Idea, and he embodied it in a perfect human form. This is the Classic period, which Hegel indicates continued till Christianity spread abroad, when Classic form, though perfect as art, was found insufficient for the now desired still higher expression of the Idea. This expression could not be put into stone, so other arts than sculpture were used for it, namely, poetry, painting, and music, which are placed together as Romantic art. This is as nearly as possible a statement of the periods of Hegel in short compass. It is impossible to interpret logically his arguments, nor is it necessary, for his conclusions when tested in the light of experience, develop into inexplicable paradoxes and contradictions which border on the ridiculous. Needless to say, the acceptance of this division means the annihilation of our ideas of the meaning of art, and the condemnation to the limbo of forgetfulness of nearly all the artists whose memory is honoured.

The general interpretation of the terms "Classic Art" and "Romantic Art" widely differs from that of Hegel, and varies with the arts. In the literary arts the distinction is obvious, but the terms are used to define both periods and classes; in architecture the Gothic period is usually called the Romantic epoch; and in painting the terms have reference to manner, the more formal manner being called Classic, and the soft manner, Romantic; though it is commonly understood that Romantic art is especially concerned with subjects associated with the gentler side of life. But there is no general agreement. Some writers assert that Giorgione was the first of the romanticists, others give the palm to Watteau, a third section to Delacroix, and a fourth to the Barbizon School. We must await a clear definition of "Romantic Art."

NOTE 6. PAGE 8

It may be reasonably argued that the want of development of the plastic arts in England during the literary revival, was largely due to artificial restrictions. Fine paintings were ordered out of the churches by Elizabeth, and many were destroyed; while, following the lead of the court, there was little or no encouragement offered by the public to artists except perhaps in portraiture. Flaxman truly said of the destruction of works of art in this period, that the check to the national art in England occurred at a time which offered the most essential and extraordinary assistance to its progress.

NOTE 7. PAGE 16

During the last half century or so, various writers of repute, including Ruskin and Dean Farrar, have professed to find in the poorer works of the Italian painters of the fourteenth century, and even in paintings of Margaritone and others of the previous century, evidence of strong religious emotion on the part of the artists. It is claimed that their purpose in giving simple solemn faces to their Madonnas and Saints, was "to tell the sacred story in all its beauty and simplicity"; that they possessed a "powerful sincerity of emotion"; that they "delivered the burning messages of prophecy with the stammering lips of infancy," and so on. It is proper to say that there is nothing to support this view of the early painters. We find no trace of any suggestions of the kind till the last of these artists had been dead for about four hundred years, while their lives, so far as we have any record, lend no warranty to the statements. The painters of the fourteenth century took their art seriously, but purely as a craft, and it was not uncommon with them to combine two or three other crafts with that of painting. They designed mostly sacred subjects for the simple reason that the art patrons of the day seldom ordered anything else. In their private lives they associated together, were generally agreeable companions, and not averse to an occasional escapade. Moreover the time in which they lived was notable for what we should call loose habits, and indeed from the thirteenth century to the end of the fifteenth, religious observances and practices were of a more hollow and formal character than they have ever been since.

The position occupied by these painters in the progression of art from the crude Byzantine period upwards, corresponds with that of the Roman painters of the third and fourth centuries in the progression downwards to the Byzantine epoch, and there is no more reason for supposing that the Italians were actuated by special emotions in their work, than that the Romans were so moved. In both cases the character of the work, as Reynolds put it in referring to the Italians, was the result of want of knowledge. The countenances usually presented by both Roman and Italian artists have a half sad, half resigned expression, because this was the only kind of expression that could be given by an immature painter whose ideal was restricted by the necessity of eliminating elements which might indicate happiness. Giotto, Taddeo Gaddi, Duccio, and a few more, were exceptions in that their art was infinitely superior to the average of the century, but all from Giotto downwards, laboured as craftsmen only. No doubt they often worked with enthusiasm, and in this way their emotions may have been brought into play, but there is no possible means of identifying in a picture the emotions which an artist may have experienced while he was painting it.

As to the sad expression referred to in these Italian works, it may be observed that Edgar A. Poe held that the tone of the highest manifestation of beauty is one of sadness. "Beauty of whatever kind," he says, "in its supreme development invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears."[a] But Poe is clearly mistaken here. It is not the beauty of the work that affects the emotions to tears, when they are so affected, but the subject of the design exhibiting the beauty. A picture or poem representing a sad subject may be very beautiful, but the sadness itself would not assist the beauty, though it might increase the emotional effect. The higher forms of beauty rarely draw our tears, but elicit our admiration without direct thought of anything but the beauty.

Who would weep when in front of the greatest marvels of Greek sculpture?

[a] _The Philosophy of Composition._

NOTE 8. PAGE 21

It is commonly, but wrongfully, supposed that Rembrandt used his broadest manner in painting commissioned portraits. The number of his portraits known to exist is about 450, of which fifty-five are representations of himself, and fifty-four of members of his household, or relatives. There are, further, more than seventy studies of old men and women, and thirty of younger men. The balance are commissioned portraits or groups. This last section includes none at all of his palette knife pictures, and not more than two or three which are executed with his heaviest brushes. Generally his work broadened in his later period, but up to the end of his life his more important works were often painted in a comparatively fine manner, though the handling was less careful and close.[a] The broadest style of the artist is rarely exhibited except in his studies and family portraits. Further it is extremely unlikely that a palette-knife picture would have been accepted in Holland during Rembrandt's time as a serious work in portraiture.

[a] See among works dating after 1660, The Syndics of the Drapers,
Portrait of a Young Man, Wachtmeister Collection; Lady with
a Dog, Colmar Museum; and Portrait of a Young Man, late Beit
Collection.

NOTE 9. PAGE 22

Darwin pointed out the permanent character of the changes in the nerves, though he submitted another demonstration[a]:

That some physical change is produced in the nerve cells or nerves
which are habitually used can hardly be doubted, for otherwise it
is impossible to understand how the tendency to certain acquired
movements is inherited.

[a] _The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals._

NOTE 10. PAGE 23

Reynolds evidently had little faith in original genius. Addressing Royal Academy students, he said[a]:

You must have no dependence on your own genius. If you have great
talents, industry will improve them; if you have but moderate
abilities, industry will supply the deficiency. Nothing is denied
to well-directed labour; nothing is to be obtained without it.... I
will venture to assert that assiduity unabated by difficulty, and a
disposition eagerly directed to the object of its pursuit, will
produce effects similar to those which some call the result of
natural powers.

On another occasion Reynolds observed of Michelangelo[b]:

He appears not to have had the least conception that his art was to
be acquired by any other means than great labour; and yet he of all
men that ever lived, might make the greatest pretensions to the
efficacy of native genius and inspiration.

Gibbon said that Reynolds agreed with Dr. Johnson in denying all original genius, any natural propensity of the mind to one art or science rather than another.[c] Hogarth also agreed with Reynolds, for he describes genius as "nothing but labour and diligence."

Croce says that genius has a quantitative and not a qualitative signification, but he offers no demonstration.[d] Evidently he is mistaken, for the signification is both quantitative and qualitative. It is true that what a Phidias, or a Raphael, or a Beethoven puts together is a sum of small beauties, any one of which may be equalled by another man, but he does more than represent a number of beauties, for he combines these into a beautiful whole which is superior in quality and cannot be estimated quantitatively. We may possibly call Darwin a genius because of the large number of facts he ascertained, and the correct inferences he drew from them, but we particularly apply the term to him by reason of the general result of all these facts and inferences, this result being qualitative and not quantitative. Croce probably took his dictum from Schopenhauer, who, however, represented degrees of quality as quantitative,[e] which is of course confusing the issue.

[a] Reynolds's Second Discourse.

[b] His Fifth Discourse.

[c] Gibbon's _Memoirs of my Life and Writings_.

[d] _Aesthetic._

[e] Essay on "Genius."

NOTE 11. PAGE 32

It is often observed by advocates of "new" forms of art that the work of many great artists has been variously valued at different periods--that leaders of marked departures in art now honoured, were frequently more or less ignored in their own time, while other artists who acquired a great reputation when living, have been properly put into the background by succeeding generations. For the first statement no solid ground can be shown. In painting, the artists since the Dark Age who can be said to have led departures of any importance, are Cimabue, Giotto, the Van Eycks, Masaccio, Lionardo, Duerer, Giorgione, Raphael, Michelangelo, Titian, Holbein, Claude, Rubens, Rembrandt, Velasquez, Watteau, Reynolds, and Fragonard. All of these had their high talents recognized and thoroughly appreciated in their lifetime. In sculpture the experience is the same, for there is no sculptor now honoured whose work was not highly valued by his contemporaries. So with poetry, but before the invention of printing and in the earlier days of this industry, poetry of any kind was very slow in finding its way among the people. What might seem nowadays to have been inappreciation of certain poets was really want of knowledge of them.

There is more truth in the assertion that many artists who had a high reputation in their lifetime are now more or less disregarded, though it does not follow from this that there has been a reversal of opinion on the part of the public, or a variation in the acuteness of aesthetic perception. Generally we find that these artists very properly held the position they occupied in their time and country, and if they do not now stand on exalted pedestals it is only because we compare them with men of other periods and places, which their contemporary countrymen did not do, at least for the purpose of establishing their permanent position in art. Carlo Maratta for instance was celebrated in Italy as the best painter of his country in his time, and even now we must so regard him, but his contemporaries as with ourselves did not place him on so high a level as his great predecessors of the sixteenth century, and some of the seventeenth. A special reason why many of the seventeenth century artists of Italy have fallen in public esteem may be found in the fact that they excelled mostly in the production of sensorial beauty, paying little attention to intellectual grace, and the ripening of general intelligence as time goes on makes us more and more sensitive to beauty of mind.

NOTE 12. PAGE 34

There have been many definitions of "Impressionism" given, but they vary considerably. Professor Clausen describes it as the work of a number of artists whose interest is in recording effects of light, seeking to express nature only and disregarding old conventions.[a] Mr. D. S. MacColl says that an impressionist is[b]

a painter who, out of the completed contacts of vision constructs
an image moulded upon his own interest in the thing seen, and not
on that of any imaginary schoolmaster.

This definition is insufficient by itself, but the writer makes his meaning clearer in the same article when he says:

Impressionism is the art that surveys the field, and determines
which of the shapes and tones are of chief importance to the
interested eye, and expresses these and sacrifices the rest.

According to C. Mauclair, an acknowledged authority on impressionism, the impressionist holds:

Light becomes the one subject of a picture. The interest of the
objects on which it shines is secondary. Painting thus understood
becomes an art of pure optics, a seeking for harmonies, a species
of natural poem, entirely distinct from expression, style, drawing,
which have formed the main endeavour of preceding painting. It is
almost necessary to invent a new word for this special art, which,
while remaining throughout pictural, approaches music in the same
degree as it departs from literature or psychology.[c]

What can be said of so amazing a declaration? The arts of painting and music do not, and cannot, have any connection with each other. They are concerned with different senses and different signs, and by no stretch of the imagination can they be combined. Seeing that musical terms when used in respect of painting by modern critics are almost invariably made to apply to colour harmonies, we may infer that a confusion of thought arises in the minds of the writers from the similar physical means by which colour and sound are conveyed to the senses concerned. But this similarity has nothing to do with the appreciation of art. The aesthetic value of a work is determined when it is conveyed to the mind, irrespective of the means by which it is so conveyed.

According to La Touche it was Fantin Latour who invented modern impressionism. Braquemond relates that La Touche told him the following story.[d] He (La Touche) was one day at the Louvre with Manet, when they saw Latour copying Paolo Veronese's Marriage at Cana in a novel manner, for instead of blending his colours in the usual way, he laid them on in small touches of separate tones. The result was an unexpected brilliancy ("papillotage imprevu") which amazed but charmed the visitors. Nevertheless when Manet left the Louvre with La Touche, he appeared anything but satisfied with what he had seen, and pronounced it humbug. But Latour's method evidently sunk into his mind, for a few days later he commenced to use it himself. Thus, added La Touche, was modern impressionism unchained. The date of this visit was not given by La Touche, but 1874 was subsequently suggested. This account does not fit in with the statement of MacColl that when Monet and Pissarro were in London during the siege of Paris, the study of Turner's pictures gave them the suggestion of these broken patches of colour.[e] If this be true Monet must have antedated Manet in the application of isolated tones.

D. S. Eaton asserts that in the Salon of 1867, there was exhibited a picture by Monet which was entitled Impressions,[f] and from this arose the word "Impressionist"; but Phythian says that the word resulted from Monet's "Impression, soleil levant," exhibited in 1874 at the Nadar Gallery in Paris with other works from Le Societe Anonyme des Artistes, Peintres, Sculpteurs, et Graveurs. Phythian adds[g]:

Thus, unwittingly led by one of the exhibitors, visitors to the
exhibition came to use the word "impressioniste," and within a few
days a contemptuously unfavourable notice of the exhibition
appeared in _Le Charivari_ under the heading "Exposition des
Impressionistes." It was not until the lapse of several years that
the name came into general use. The painters to whom it was applied
disowned it because it was used in a depreciatory sense. Eventually
however, unable to find a better one, they adopted it.

Another origin of Impressionism is given by Muther. He says[h]:

The name "Impressionists" dates from an exhibition in Paris which
was given at Nadar's in 1871. The catalogue contained a great deal
about impressions--for instance, "Impression de mon pot au feu,"
"Impression d'un chat qui se promene." In his criticism Claretie
summed up the impressions, and spoke of the Salon des
Impressionistes.

But the real origin of impressionism must be sought earlier than 1871, for in 1865 Manet exhibited his Olympia in the Salon des Refuses. This picture did not represent what was understood as impressionism ten years later, but it led the way towards the establishment of the innovation, in that it pretended that healthy ideas and noble designs were secondary considerations in art. Certainly Manet could not descend lower than this wretched picture, and in this sense his subsequent work was a distinct advance.

[a] Royal Academy Lectures.

[b] Article on "Impressionism," _Encyclopaedia Britannica_, 11th
Edition.

[c] _L'Impressionism, son histoire, son esthetique, ses maitres._

[d] _Le Journal des Arts_, 1909.

[e] Article on "Impressionism," _Encyclopaedia Britannica_, 11th
edition.

[f] _Handbook of Modern French Painting._

[g] _Fifty Years of Modern Painting._

[h] _History of Modern Painting_, vol. iii.

NOTE 13. PAGE 35

The reason given by impressionists for the juxtaposition of pure colours is that the natural blend produced is more brilliant than the tone from the mixed colours applied, but it is pointed out by Moreau-Vauthier that the contrary is the case. He says[a]:

We find in practice that the parent colours do not, with material
colours, produce the theoretical binaries. We get dark, dull
greens, oranges, and violets, that clash with the parent colours.
To make them harmonize we should be obliged to dim these material
colours, to transform them, and consequently to lose them partly.

[a] _The Technique of Painting_, 1912.

NOTE 14. PAGE 37

Cezanne and Van Gogh are not usually put forward as representative impressionists, but it is impossible to differentiate logically between the various "isms" of which impressionism is the mother, and to attempt a serious argument upon them would be apt to reflect upon the common sense of the reader. The sincere impressionist certainly produces a thing of beauty, however ephemeral and lacking in high character the beauty may be, but most of the productions of the other "isms" only serve the purpose of degrading the artist and the art.

NOTE 15. PAGE 40

This form of picture is by no means new, though except among the inventors of sprezzatura, and the modern impressionists, it has always been executed as a rough sketch for the purpose of settling harmonies for serious work. Lomazzo relates that Aurelio, son of Bernadino Luini, while visiting Titian, asked him how he managed to make his landscape tones harmonize so well. For reply the great master showed Aurelio a large sketch, the character of which could not be distinguished when it was closely inspected, but on the observer stepping back, a landscape appeared "as if it had suddenly been lit up by a ray of the sun."[a] From Luini's surprise, and inasmuch as we have no record of similar work before his time, it is reasonable to suppose that Titian was the first great artist to use this form of sketch for experimental purposes.

[a] _Trattato dell' Arte de la Pittura._

NOTE 16. PAGE 40

The example of this picture at the Pitti Palace is specially noted because it seems impossible that the duplicate in the Uffizi Gallery can be by Raphael, for it has obvious defects, some of which have many times been pointed out. The expression is vastly inferior to that in the Pitti portrait, for instead of a calm, noble, benign countenance, we have a half-worried senile face which is anything but pleasant. Raphael was the last man to execute a portrait of a Pope without generalizing high character in the features. It will be observed also that in the Uffizi portrait, the left hand is stiff and cramped, and the drapery ungracefully flowing, while both uprights of the chair are actually out of drawing. There are other examples of the same picture in different museums, but the Pitti work is far above these in every respect, and seems the only one which can be properly attributed to the master. Passavant affirms that some of the repetitions of the work were certainly made in the studio of Raphael under his orders, and thinks that the duplicates passed for originals even in his time.[a]

[a] _Raphael d'Urbin_, vol. ii.

NOTE 17. PAGE 41

To the knowledge of the writer, the only logical connection between the work of Rembrandt and impressionism that has been suggested, is from the pen of Professor Baldwin Brown, who remarks[a]:

Rembrandt in his later work attended to the pictorial effect alone,
and practically annulled the objects by reducing them to pure tone
and colour. Things are not there at all, but only the semblance, or
effect, or impression of things. Breadth is in this way combined
with the most delicate variety, and a new form of painting, now
called "impressionism" has come into being.

The professor is mistaken here. During the last fifteen years of his life, apart from portraits, a few studies of heads, and some colour experiments with carcases of meat, Rembrandt executed, so far as is known, about three dozen pictures, and in all of these he effectually prevents us from forming a general impression of the designs before considering the more important details, by concentrating nearly all the available light upon the countenances of the principal personages represented; while in the management of the features, the whole purpose of the chiaroscuro is for the purpose of obtaining relief. Moreover the pictures are nearly all groups of personages in set subjects, and there would be no meaning in the designs if the objects were "practically annulled," for particular action and expression are necessary for their comprehension.

As to Velasquez there is no evidence tending to support the statement that he was an impressionist. The first authority on the artist has definitely pointed out that he never took up his brushes except for an important and definite work: "he neither painted impressions nor daubs."[b]

[a] Article on "Painting," _Encyclopaedia Britannica_, 11th edition.

[b] _Velasquez_, by De Beruete, 1902.

NOTE 18. PAGE 49

It will always be a matter of surprise that so much popularity was secured by the light sketches of the Barbizon School, considering their general insignificance from the point of view of art, and the conspicuously artificial means adopted for their exploitation. Some of the artists of this school, having accomplished many studio works of merit, acquired the habit of painting in the open air. By this method it is impossible to execute a comprehensive natural scene, and the painters did not attempt the task, but they produced numberless sketchy works of local scenes under particular atmospheric conditions. They laboured honestly and conscientiously, and their sketches were put out for what they were and nothing more. The paintings would probably have retained their place as simple studies had not some commercial genius conceived the idea of putting them into heavy, gorgeous, gilt frames. With this embellishment they were successfully scattered round the world, mostly in the newer portions, much to the general astonishment. The _raison d'etre_ of the frames puzzled many persons, though it was frequently observed that the pictures do not look well unless surrounded by ample gold leaf. Thus, C. J. Holmes, Director of the London National Gallery, and an authority on impressionism, notes[a]:

Barbizon pictures are almost invariably set in frames with an
undeniably vulgar look. Yet in such a rectangle of gilded
contortion a Corot or a Daubigny shows to perfection: place it in a
frame of more reticent design, and it becomes in a moment flat,
empty, and tame.

The purpose of this frame is obvious. The eye is caught by the dazzling glitter, and feels immediate relief when it rests upon the quiet grey tone of the painting, the pleasurable sensation resulting therefrom being mistaken for involuntary appreciation of the beauty of the work.

As finished paintings these Barbizon sketches are novel, but as studies they are not, for similar work has been executed for two or three centuries, and particularly by the Dutch artists of the seventeenth century. In every considerable collection of drawings such sketches may be found, and there is scarcely a Barbizon painter whose work was not anticipated by a Dutch master. One has only to examine the drawings in the public art institutions of Europe by De Molyn, Blyhooft, Jan de Bischop, Lambert Doomer, Berghem, Avercamp, and others, to find examples which, if executed now, might easily be taken for works by the Barbizon masters.

[a] _Notes on the Science of Picture-Making._

NOTE 19. PAGE 52