Chapter III: Part 3
In a graphic representation of objects one of two points of view may be taken: it may be considered as essential that all the characteristic features be shown, or the object may be drawn as it appears at any given moment. In the former case our attention is directed primarily towards those permanent traits that are most striking and by which we recognize the object, while others that are not characteristic, or at least less characteristic, are considered as irrelevant. In the latter case we are interested solely in the visual picture that we receive at any given moment, and the salient features of which attract our attention.
This method is more realistic than the other only if we claim that the essence of realism is the reproduction of a single momentary visual image and if the selection of what appears a salient feature to us is given a paramount value.
In sculpture or modelling in the round these problems do not appear in the same form. Here also attention may be directed primarily towards the representation of the essential, and the same principles of selection may appear that are found in graphic art, but the arrangement of the parts does not offer the same difficulties that are always present in graphic representation. As soon as man is confronted with the problem of representing a three-dimensional object on a two-dimensional surface and showing in a single, permanent position an object that changes its visual appearance from time to time, he must make a choice between these two methods. It is easily intelligible that a profile view of an animal in which only one eye is seen and in which one whole side disappears may not satisfy as a realistic representation. The animal _has two_ eyes and _two_ sides. When it turns I see the other side; it exists and should be part of a satisfying picture. In a front view the animal appears foreshortened. The tail is invisible and so are the flanks; but the animal has tail and flanks and they ought to be there. We are confronted with the same problem in our representations of maps of the whole world. In a map on Mercator projection, or in our planiglobes, we distort the surface of the globe in such a way that all parts are visible. We are interested only in showing, in a manner as satisfactory as possible, the interrelations between the parts of the globe. We combine in one picture aspects that could never be seen at one glance. The same is true in orthogonal architectural drawings, particularly when two adjoining views taken at right angles to each other, are brought into contact, or in copies of designs in which the scenes or designs depicted on a cylinder, a vase, or a spherical pot are developed on a flat surface in order to show at a single glance the interrelations of the decorative forms. In drawings of objects for scientific study we may also sometime adopt a similar view-point, and in order to elucidate important relations, draw as though we were able to look around the corner or through the object. Different moments are represented in diagrams in which mechanical movements are illustrated and in which, in order to explain the operation of a device, various positions of moving parts are shown.
In primitive art both solutions have been attempted: the perspective as well as that showing the essential parts in combination. Since the essential parts are symbols of the object, we may call this method the symbolic one. I repeat that in the symbolic method those features are represented that are considered as permanent and essential, and that there is no attempt on the part of the draftsman to confine himself to a reproduction of what he actually sees at a given moment.
It is easy to show that these points of view are not by any means absent in European art. The combination of different moments in one painting appears commonly in earlier art,—for instance when in Michel Angelo’s painting Adam and Eve appear on one side of the tree of knowledge in Paradise and on the other side of the tree as being driven out by the angel. As a matter of fact, every large canvass contains a combination of distinct views. When we direct our eyes upon a scene we see only a small limited area distinctly, the points farther away appear the more blurred and indistinct the farther removed they are from the center. Nevertheless most of the older paintings of large scenes represent all parts with equal distinctness, as they appear to our eyes when they wander about and take in all the different parts one by one. Rembrandt forced the attention of the spectator upon his main figures by strong lights, as upon the swords in the great scene of the conspiracy of Claudius Civilis and his Batavians against the Romans, but the distant figures are distinct in outline, although in dark colors. On the other hand, Hodler, in his painting of a duel draws compelling attention to the points of the swords which are painted in sharp outline while everything else is the more indistinct the farther removed it is from the point on which the interest of the artist centers.
Traits considered as permanent characteristics play a rôle even in modern art. Until very recent times the complexion of man was conceived as essentially permanent. At least the strong changes that actually occur in different positions have not been painted until very recent times. A person of fair complexion standing between a green bush and a red brick wall has certainly a face green on one side and red on the other, and if the sun shines on his forehead it may be at times intensely yellow. Still we are, or at least were, not accustomed to depict these eminently realistic traits. We rather concentrate our attention upon what is permanent in the individual complexion as seen in ordinary diffuse daylight. We are accustomed to see the accidental momentary lights weakened in favor of the permanent impression.
In primitive, symbolic representations these permanent traits appear in the same way, sometimes strongly emphasized. It will be readily seen that children’s drawings are essentially of the character here described. They are not memory images, as Wundt claims, except in so far as the symbols are remembered and reminders, but compositions of what to the child’s mind appears essential, perhaps also as feasible. A person has two eyes which have their most characteristic form in front view, a prominent nose which is most striking in profile; hands with fingers which are best seen when the palms are turned forward; feet the form of which is clear only in profile. The body is essential and so is the clothing, hence the so-called Röntgen pictures in which covered parts are drawn. These drawings are a collection of symbols held together more or less satisfactorily by a general outline, although single traits may be misplaced. The same traits prevail commonly in primitive drawings. When Karl von den Steinen had the South American Indians draw a white man, they placed the moustache as a characteristic symbol on the forehead, for it sufficed to place it as a symbol on the most available space. The Egyptian paintings with their mixture of profile and front views and transparent objects through which hidden parts may be seen (fig. 68) must be viewed in the same manner. They are not by any means proof of an inability to see and draw perspectively; they merely show that the interest of the people centered in the full representation of the symbols.
When exceptionally great weight is attached to the symbol, so that it entirely outweighs the interest in the outline, the general form may be dwarfed and forms originate that, from our perspective point of view, lose all semblance of realism. The most characteristic case of this kind is found in the art of the Northwest coast of America, in which the whole animal form is reduced to an assembly of disconnected symbols. A beaver is adequately represented by a large head with two pairs of large incisors and a squamous tail (see pp. 186 et seq.). However, in this case we are no longer dealing with crude representations, but with a highly developed art. Its form proves that in its development symbolic representation has been of fundamental importance.
The second form of representation is by means of perspective drawing, in which the momentary visual impression regardless of the presence or absence of characteristic symbols, is utilized. This method is not by any means absent in the drawings of primitive man as well as in those of children, but it is not as common as symbolic representation. In a way most crude symbolic forms contain a perspective element, although it does not extend over the whole figure, but only over parts which are more or less skilfully put together, so that a semblance of the general outline is maintained. This is the case in Egyptian paintings, in those of Australians and in North American picture writing (see figs. 61, 62). In other cases the art of perspective drawing rises to real excellence. The silhouettes of the Eskimo may be mentioned as a case in point (fig. 69). Their figures are always small, scratched into ivory, antler or bone, and filled with hachure or with black pigment. Form and pose are well-done. Although there is generally no perspective arrangement of groups, each figure is well executed and renders a single visual impression. We find perspective of groups in the rock paintings of South Africa (fig. 70), not perfect, but indicated by the overcutting of figures and by the relative sizes of objects near by and of those seen at a distance. Perspective realism of single figures is even more fully developed in the paintings of later paleolithic man, found in the caves of southern France and of Spain (fig. 71). Less skilful efforts at perspective representation are not rare. On mattings from the Congo region, on basketry hats from Vancouver Island (fig. 72) rather clumsy attempts have been made. In those from the former region there are animals in profile in the latter whaling scenes: men going out in a canoe and hauling in a harpooned whale.
Much more common are carvings in wood, bone or stone, or pottery objects that are not symbolic but true to nature. Ivory carvings of the Eskimo, Chukchee and Koryak (fig. 73), prehistoric carvings, pottery from North America are examples.
As stated before, a sharp line between the two methods of graphic representation cannot be drawn. In most cases symbolic representations are at least in part perspective, either in so far as the general form is maintained, or as parts are shown in perspective form; while perspective representations may contain symbolic elements. When the Pueblo Indian paints the form of a deer with a fair degree of perspective accuracy (see fig. 142, p. 167), but adds to it a line running from the mouth to the heart as an essential symbol of life; or when the symbols are arranged with a fair degree of correspondence to perspective order we have forms in which both tendencies may be observed. Indeed, some degree of conventional symbolism is found in every drawing or painting, the more so, the more sketchy it is; in other words, the more the representation is confined to salient traits. This is particularly true in all forms of caricature.
If representative art did develop into absolute realism, stereoscopic color photography would be the highest type of art, but this is obviously not the case. Setting aside the emotional appeal of the object itself, an accurate copy of a natural object, such as a glass flower, a painted carving, an imitation of natural sounds or a pantomime may attain an intense emotional appeal, they may excite our admiration on account of the skill of execution; their artistic value will always depend upon the presence of a formal element that is not identical with the form found in nature.
Stress must be laid upon the distinctive points of view from which the two methods of graphic representation develop, because the development of perspective drawing is often represented as growing out of the cruder symbolic method. As a matter of fact the two have distinct psychological sources which remain active in the early, as well as in the late history of art. Vierkandt[42] designates the various methods of representation as suggestive (andeutend), descriptive (beschreibend), and perspective (anschaulich). Of these the former two correspond to what I have called here symbolic. They differ only in the more or less fragmentary character of the symbols. The perspective type does not develop from the former two as the result of an evolution; it is based on a distinct mental attitude, the early presence of which is manifested by the realistic, perspective paintings of a number of primitive tribes.
[42] Das Zeichnen der Naturvölker, Zeitschrift für angewandte Psychologie, Vol. 6, (1912), pp. 347 et seq.
The theory of a continuous development from symbolic to realistic art is one of the numerous attempts to prove a continuous development of cultural forms, a steady, unbroken evolution. This view-point has had a deep influence upon the whole theory of ethnology. Evolution, meaning the continuous change of thought and action, or historic continuity, must be accepted unreservedly. It is otherwise, when it is conceived as meaning the universally valid continuous development of one cultural form out of a preceding type, such as the assumed development of economic forms from food gathering through herding to agriculture. In past times these three stages were assumed to be characteristic of all human development, until it was recognized that there is no connection between the invention of agriculture and the domestication of animals,—the former developed through the occupation of woman who gathered the vegetable food supply, the latter through the devotion of men to the chase. The men had no occasion to become familiar with the handling of plants, and the women had just as little opportunity of dealing with animals. The development of agriculture and of herding can, therefore, not possibly be derived from the same sources.
It is no less arbitrary to assume that social forms must have developed in regular universally valid sequence, one certain stage always being based on the same preceding one in all parts of the world. There is no evidence that would compel us to assume that matrilineal organizations always preceded patrilineal or bilateral ones. On the contrary, it seems much more likely that the life of hunters in single family units, or that of larger groups in more fertile areas has led to entirely different results. We may expect continuous evolution only in those cases in which the social and psychological conditions are continuous.
After this brief excurse, let us revert to our subject. Representations become works of art only when the technique of their manufacture is perfectly controlled, at least by a number of individuals; in other words, when they are executed by one of the processes, that are industrially in common use. Where carving is practiced, we may expect artistic form in carvings; where painting, pottery, or metal work prevail, artistic form is found in the products of those industries in which the highest degree of technical skill is attained. The Eskimo carves in ivory, antler or bone, of which he makes his harpoons and many other utensils; his best representative work is made with the knife and consists of small carvings and etchings in which he applies the same methods that he employs every day. The New Zealander carves in wood, makes delicate stonework, and paints; his best representative work is made by these methods. Metal work and ivory carvings from Benin (fig. 74), headmasks from the Cameroons (fig. 75, p. 82), wood carvings from the Northwest coast of America (see figs. 154-156, pp. 184, 185), pottery from Peru, from the Yoruba country (fig. 76, p. 82), Central America and Arkansas (fig. 77, p. 85), basketry of the Pima, embroideries (see fig. 39, p. 47) and woven fabrics of the Peruvians are other examples.
Since representations that are intended to have artistic value are made in the most highly developed technique it is not surprising that the formal style of the technique gains an influence over the form of the representation. The angular lines of weaving with coarse materials and the steplike forms of diagonals which are determined by this technique impress themselves often upon representations and become part and parcel of a local style. There develops an intimate relation between the formal and representative elements that brings it about that representation receives a formal value entirely apart from its significance. The deeper the influence of the formal, decorative element upon the method of representation, the more probable it becomes that formal elements attain an emotional value. An association between these two forms of art is established which leads, on the one hand to the conventionalization of representative design, on the other to the imputation of significance into formal elements. It is quite arbitrary to assume a one-sided development from the representative to the formal or _vice versa_, or even to speak of a gradual transformation of a representative form into a conventional one, because the artistic presentation itself can proceed only on the basis of the technically developed forms. At another place we shall discuss this subject more fully (see pp. 118 et seq.).
In all aspects of life may be observed the controlling influence of pattern, that is of some typical form of behaviour. As we think in a pattern of objective, material causality, primitive man thinks in a pattern in which subjective causality is an important element. As our personal relations to blood relatives are determined by the pattern of our family, so the corresponding relations in other societies are governed by their social patterns. The interpretation of the pattern may change, but its form is apt to continue over long periods.
The same stability of pattern may be observed in the art products of man. When a definite type has once been established, it exerts a compelling influence over new artistic attempts. When its control continues over a long period it may happen that representations are cast in an iron mould and that the most diverse subjects take similar forms. It appears then as though the old pattern had been misunderstood and new forms had developed from it. Thus, according to Von den Steinen, the figurines on carvings from the Marquesas, which originally represented two figures back to back, have determined the type of entirely new representations, or, as he prefers to put it, they have been misunderstood and developed in new ways. I do not doubt that in some cases this process of misinterpretation occurs, but it is not the one that interests us at this place. Striking examples of the overmastering influence of a pattern may be found in many parts of the world. The style of the Northwest coast of America is so rigid that all animal figures represented on plain surfaces are cast in the same mould (see pp. 185 et seq.); the overwhelming frequency of the spiral in New Zealand is another example; the interwoven animal figures of early medieval Germanic art; the angular patterns of the North American Indians (see p. 176); all these illustrate the same condition. In an art, the technique of which does not admit the use of curved lines and in which decorative patterns have developed, there is no room for curved lines, and the curved outlines of objects are broken up into angular forms. The patterns, or as we usually say, the style, dominates the formal as well as the representative art.
However, the style is not by any means completely determined by the general formal tendencies which we have discussed, nor by the relations between these elements and the decorative field, but it depends upon many other conditions.
One more point must be discussed here. Attention has been called to the apparent absence of purely formal elements in the art of those tribes that are from an economical and industrial point of view most primitive, namely the modern Bushmen of South Africa, the Eskimo of Arctic North America, the Australians, and in remote times, the paleolithic hunters. The statement is not quite correct, as has already been pointed out by Vierkandt, because other tribes that live on the same industrial level, do not share these characteristics; particularly the Veddah and the Andaman Islanders. Furthermore, it is not by any means certain that the South African rock sculptures were made by the Bushmen. It seems fairly certain that the best ones of those recorded were made in early times and that the living Bushmen know little about their origin. In the South African paintings and petroglyphs and in the art works of the other tribes mentioned before, we find a highly developed realistic art which exhibits an astonishing truth of perspective perception, in rest as well as in motion. Verworn has based on this observation a distinction of what he calls the physioplastic and ideoplastic art; the former containing truthful, momentary visual images, the latter representing nature remodeled by thought and therefore, in a conventional style.
I do not believe that the assignment of these styles to distinct levels of culture is tenable, for physioplastic representations are not by any means confined to the tribes of simplest economic structure, nor, as indicated just now, are they common to all of them. We must avoid in these matters, as well as in all other ethnic questions, treating tribes too much as standardized units. Individual variation in physical appearance as well as in mental life is as important in primitive society as in our own. There are artists and craftsmen in all forms of society, as there are believers and unbelievers; there are creative artists who rise above the level of the skilful artisan and tradesmen who are satisfied with a slavish, though accurate adhesion to existing patterns. Where representative art has fallen under the rigid control of technique, there is little opportunity for the development of a naturalistic style; where the technique is free, there we may also expect free forms. This condition is realized in two ways, namely, in those cases in which representative art is not enslaved by a one-sided technique, and under conditions in which a high degree of freedom in the use of a variety of technical processes has been attained. A study of the whole range of art products shows that where a technique is practised that gives tree range to the development of form, naturalistic forms, that is forms relatively free of stylistic mannerisms, although sometimes of bold generalization, occur. Carving in wood, bone, ivory or stone, and modelling in clay are the principal arts that give this freedom which is not so easily found in graphic representation. Therefore we find in many cultures that are otherwise under the strict control of conventional style, at least occasionally figures in the round that are naturalistic. Examples are found in the art of the North Pacific Coast; in bronze castings, wood carvings and clay figures of Africa (figs. 74-76); in pottery of the ancient inhabitants of Arkansas (fig. 77); and in stone work from Mexico, as well as in Peruvian pottery. On the other hand, our modern realism is based on the emancipation from a single rigid style that controls all art production. Such freedom is not found to the same extent in primitive art with its more limited number of technical processes.
Another error seems to me to underlie the theory propounded by Max Verworn. It is not only incorrect to assume that representations true to nature are confined to tribes on the lowest economic and industrial level, it can also be shown that at least those living at the present time have ideoplastic art as well as physioplastic art. This is particularly true of the Eskimo. While they do produce a remarkable number of realistic carvings and etchings, they also have a number of conventional, geometric designs which are of regular occurrence. Most prominent among these are the alternating spurline and the sequence of Y shaped figures (fig. 78). The latter has sometimes a symbolic meaning, just as other conventional geometric designs among other groups of people. With small circles at the end of the bifurcated Y it is interpreted as a flower. Furthermore, the clothing of men and women is always decorated with motives that indicate or emphasize the parts of the body they cover, as the shoulderblades or the breastbone. Particularly among the Alaskan is this conventional art ideoplastic in the meaning of Verworn.
We have also shown examples of the geometric, ornamental art of the Bushmen (fig. 8, p. 23); however, we do not know whether it has a symbolic meaning. Their ornamental art is very meagre because they have so little that can become the subject of ornamentation.
It seems more than likely that man of later paleolithic time whose implements are quite on the same level as those of modern primitive tribes, who adorned his body and who used geometrical ornaments on his bone implements, decorated also his clothing and other perishable possessions of which no trace remains. If we imagine the remains of the modern Indians of the plains, or those of Australians exposed for thousands of years to the wet climate of Europe, nothing would remain to give us an insight into the complexity of their culture and into the existence of their symbolic, that is, ideoplastic art.
SYMBOLISM
We have seen that in the art of primitive people two elements may be distinguished; a purely formal one in which enjoyment is based on form alone, and another one in which the form is filled with meaning. In the latter case the significance creates an enhanced esthetic value, on account of the associative connections of the art product or of the artistic act. Since these forms are significant they must be representative, not necessarily representative of tangible objects, but sometimes of more or less abstract ideas.
In our previous discussion we have also shown that representative art may be, and generally is, strongly influenced by technical form, so much so, that in many cases the natural prototype is not readily recognized.
It is remarkable that in the art of many tribes the world over, ornament that appears to us as purely formal, is associated with meanings, that it is interpreted. Karl von den Steinen found that the geometrical patterns of the Brazilian Indians represented fish, bats, bees, and other animals, although the triangles and diamonds of which they consist bear no apparent relation to these animal forms. The design on top in figure 79 represents bats, indicated by the black triangles. The figure below it represents the uluri, a small object of clay used by women in place of a breech clout. The third figure represents a fish, the large scales of which are indicated by diamonds. The fourth and fifth figures also represent fish, while the last one is called young bees.
A number of clay dishes that were said to represent animals were in part characterized by distinct heads, limbs, and tails, while others bore no resemblance to the forms that they were claimed by the natives to represent. A general similarity of form, however, exists between the purely conventional and the realistic forms, which suggested to Von den Steinen the conclusion that the former developed from the latter. Later on Ehrenreich corroborated these observations both in South and North America. A small number of designs with names are shown in fig. 80. The diamonds in the first figure on top, represents wasps nests and may be compared to the young bees in fig. 79. The zig-zag band in the second figure, which is symmetrically arranged and has rhythmically repeated elements of unequal lengths, represents bats. In form these are identical with the frigate bird of New Ireland (see fig. 101, p. 107). The third figure from the top represents the marking on the skin of the rattlesnake, and the remaining figures also are marks on the skin of various snakes.
W. E. Roth has recorded the significance of basketry designs of the Indians of British Guiana.[43] Some of these designs contain realistic figures, but many of them are geometrical derivatives of zig-zag bands and meandric forms such as occur on coarse twined basketry in many parts of the world. Most of these forms are explained as animals; some identified by their form, others imitating the pattern of the skin or being suggestive of parts of the body. There are also a number of plant representations (figs. 81, 82). In some of these the meaning of the form is readily recognized as in the snake pursuing a frog (fig. 81 _a_) or in the human form (fig. 81 _b_). The body of the snake is represented by a broad meander, its head by a triangle. To the right of the head is the frog. Less evident is the dog shown in fig. 81 _c_. The interpretation of the designs in figs. 81 _d_, _e_ and _f_ and 82 seems quite arbitrary. The meanders fig. 81 _d-f_ represent the wild nutmeg. In _e_ the vertical connecting bar of the double T represents the main branches, the horizontal one the secondary branches. Fig. 82 _a_ is called the centipede, _b_ savanna grass, _c-f_ periwinkles, _g_ butterflies, and the three designs _h-j_ represent snakes. The square in the pattern in the left hand lower corner of _j_ is the head of the snake.
[43] W. E. Roth “Introductory Study of Arts, Crafts, and Customs of the Guiana Indians” 38th Annual Report, Bureau of American Ethnology, Washington 1924, pp. 354 et seq.
Ehrenreich was the first to observe the highly developed symbolism of the North American Indians and his observation gave the impetus to the studies of North American art which were largely instituted by the American Museum of Natural History in New York. His observations were made among the Cheyenne, and on account of their importance, they may be quoted here;[44] “Representations of heavenly phenomena are found in their highest development among the agricultural Pueblo tribes, whose whole cult consists essentially in magic performances intended to secure rain. Besides this, geographical motives are used, such as mountains, rivers, trails, camping sites, which are important to the Indians who inhabit the endless prairies. A typical example is found on the ornament taken from a moccasin (fig. 83 _a_) in which a dark blue series of triangles represent mountains, a light blue stripe a river, a red one a trail. A second ornament, also taken, from a moccasin (Fig. 83 _b_) shows a series of tents. Red dots in the triangular tents represent fire.
[44] Ethnologisches Notizblatt, vol. II, 1, pp. 27 et seq. (1899).
“The hoods of cradle boards are generally richly ornamented. The design of a specimen purchased by me is of peculiar interest on account of the representation of abstract ideas (Fig. 83 _c_, _d_). As usual, the upper surface of the hood is white, which color, in the symbolism of the Indians designates the sky and life. The margin is formed by a green line and the whole surface is divided into three fields by two convergent blue lines. The large lateral fields are strictly symmetrical. They contain three groups of stars represented by rectangles. The lowest line,—four red rectangles with enclosed green centers,—represent large, bright stars; and the top row, red without centers, are the children of the stars. It is uncertain whether by this term the smallest stars or falling stars are meant.
“The middle field, bounded by blue lines, represents the path of life of the child. In this field are found peculiar green figures which terminate above and below in T shaped ends. They are diamond-shaped and enclose a red and yellow checkerwork. They designate the child’s good luck or the success that he will have in life. In this case green symbolizes growth and development; yellow, maturity and perfection; red, blood, life and good-fortune; all of which are related to the deities. The lower rim of the hood is interrupted on both sides by small white and blue squares. These are said to represent the child’s age. I did not learn what was meant by this expression. Probably the change of seasons was meant, since the alternation of blue and white signifies the change of winter and summer.
“The hood ends in a square flap which bears in its center a green diamond terminating in cross bars, but smaller and simpler than the corresponding figures of the central field. It represents the heart. The blue lines and angles in the corners of the flap are continued in the same way on the opposite side. They represent the unexpected events of life. Attachments on each side are the child’s ears; the short lines of beads embroidered on the back of the flap represents the hair of the child.”
Based on these results a somewhat extended study of the symbolism of American Indian art was undertaken, in the course of which A. L. Kroeber investigated the art of the Arapaho; Roland B. Dixon, that of the Californian tribes; Clark Wissler, that of the Sioux and Blackfeet, and H. H. St. Clair that of the Shoshone. Later on the study was extended over other adjacent areas.
The results obtained by Kroeber indicate a close similarity between the symbolism of the Arapaho and that of the Cheyenne. Here also abstract ideas appear in considerable number. It will suffice here to give a few examples. On a moccasin[45] (fig. 84) “the longitudinal stripe signifies the path to destination. A small stripe at the heel of the moccasin (not shown in the figure) signifies the opposite idea, the place whence one has come. The variety of color in the larger stripe represents a variety of things (which naturally are of many different colors) that one desires to possess. The small dark blue rectangles are symbols that are called ‘hiiteni’[46]. The white border of this moccasin, on account of its color, represents snow. The figures in it represent hills with upright trees. The stripe over the instep signifies ‘up hill and down again’ (its middle portion being elevated above the ends by the instep of the foot). The dots in this stripe represent places left bare by the melting snow.” The knife scabbard[47] represented in fig. 85 “has at the top a cross signifying a person. The triangles above and below it are mountains. On the lower part, on the middle line, are three green squares, symbols of life or abundance. Red slanting lines pointing towards the squares are thoughts or wishes directed towards the desired objects, represented by the life symbols.”
[45] A. L. Kroeber, The Arapaho, Bulletin American Museum of Natural History, Vol. XVIII, pp. 39, 40.
[46] _Hiiteni_ is explained as meaning life, abundance, food, prosperity, temporal blessings, desire or hope for food, prayer for abundance, or the things wished for (A. L. Kroeber, _ibid._, p. 40).
[47] l. c. p. 88.
Observations among the Sioux Indians made by Clark Wissler have given similar results. The design on a legging (fig. 86) may serve as an example. It represents a battle.[48] The diamond-shaped center is here the body of a man. The large triangles are the tents of the village in which the battle took place. The pronged figures represent wounds and blood; the straight lines supporting them, the flight of arrows. The crossed lines are said to represent arrows and lances.
[48] Clark Wissler, Decorative art of the Sioux Indians, Bulletin American Museum of Natural History, Vol. XVIII, p. 253.
The Assiniboine, a closely related branch of the Sioux, did not yield much information in regard to the meaning of designs, but the few fragments collected by Robert H. Lowie[49] show that the principles found among other tribes are or were not unknown to them. The designs found on a drum illustrate this (fig. 87).
[49] Robert H. Lowie, The Assiniboine, Anthropological Papers American Museum of Natural History, Vol. IV, p. 26.
“The gray central field is itself a drum; the concentric rings around it are rainbow symbols, and the four sets of slanting lines (yellow, black and whitish) represent the sunshine. The green color between these lines denotes clouds; the four following rings the rainbow, and the external ring has no ascertainable meaning. On the other side there is a star in the center; the black circle stands for night, the blue color at the circumference for twilight, and the oblique red, yellow and white lines for the sunshine.”
Some Arapaho designs are interpreted as representing geographical features or a village in its geographical environment. In the specimen shown in (fig. 88) “the two large triangles at the end represent tents; the center diamond two tents; between them a white stripe with black dots in it represents a buffalo path with buffalo tracks in it. The four red obtuse triangles along the sides are mountains; small yellow triangles enclosed by them are tents; the double blue lines surrounding the entire pattern represent mountain ranges. Small rectangles in this border, colored red and yellow, represent lakes.”
Geographical interpretations are quite common among most of the Indian tribes of the Great Plains. Mountains, caves, trees, streams, lakes, trails, and tents are commonly symbolized in the angular forms of their paintings and embroideries. As compared to these the association between abstract ideas and geometric form is rather rare.
A few examples may also illustrate the explanations given by Shoshone Indians.[50] The interpretations are largely geographic. In fig. 89 the red central rectangle represents the ground, the green background trees. On this green ground is a lake, indicated by the blue area in the center, the yellow line dividing the central field, is an inlet of the lake. The obtuse blue triangle on the sides of the central rectangle represents mountains with timber. The triangles on the short sides are also mountains. The yellow apex is the sun shining on the mountains, the red middle part of the triangle the ground, the green area at the base, grass at the foot of the mountains. In the corners we find small triangles representing sand and over them the yellow sun light.
[50] These are taken from observations by H. H. St. Clair at Wind River Reservation. Lowie did not succeed in obtaining any explanations at the Lemhi Agency, Idaho.
On a second Shoshone parfleche obtuse triangles in the central rectangle and smaller triangles in the longitudinal borderstrips represent mountains, a red line in the center stands for a river, and right angle triangles are tipis.
Another Shoshone parfleche of similar pattern, was explained as follows: a blue line enclosing an inner rectangle is a fort or enclosure surrounded by the enemy, represented by red and green squares of the border. A yellow and red line passing through the center is the pass by which the people escape.
A consistent geographically explained ornament has also been described by Stephan (fig. 90). The upper zig-zag line (_a_) represents a snake; the rectangular fields under it (_b_), the sea moved by the wind. The dark corners of the rectangle (_c_) indicate calm on deep water. The central field with cross hachure (_d_), rain on the sea or ripples on the water. The lowest bands (_e_, _f_) and the top band (_a_) do not belong to the sea picture. (_e_) is explained as the veins of the coconut leaf, (_f_) as a kind of grass.
In the opposite end (_a_) is not explained, (_b_) is a snake. The rest of the design fits in with the geographical pattern, (_c_) being rocks beaten by breakers.
I am indebted to Miss Ruth L. Bunzel for the following consistent interpretation of a Zuni bowl,—part of a deep bowl the upper part of which has been broken off. Her informant explained it as follows (fig. 91): “We call the whole design ‘cloud all alone’. When a person does not go to the dances when they dance for rain, after her death she goes to the Sacred Lake and when all the spirits of the other dead people come back to Zuni to make rain, she cannot go, but must wait there all alone, like a single little cloud left in the sky after the storm clouds have blown over. She just sits and waits all alone, always looking and looking in all directions, waiting for somebody to come. That is why we put eyes looking out in all directions.”
Consistent symbolic interpretations have also been given for ceremonial objects of the Huichol Indians.[51]
[51] Carl Lumholtz, Symbolism of the Huichol Indians, Memoirs American Museum of Natural History, Vol. III, page 125, fig. 133.
On a “front shield”, a sacred object (fig. 92) fertility symbols are represented by geometrical figures: “The cross in the center represents four clouds on the horizon, the colored segments completing the inner circle represent red and blue birds (swifts) soaring above the clouds. In the second circle are shown crosses representing red, yellow and blue corn. In the outer zone is a zig-zag line in red and blue representing Mother East-water, a Deity. Nine triangles between head and tail of the serpent, crowded together, represent mescal (a narcotic cactus) which is considered related to corn and is held as a prayer for rain and for health.”
Another example is a sacrificial back shield (fig. 93),[52] in which the symbol (_a_) represents a serpent, (_b_) white clouds, (_c_) black clouds, (_d_) rain, (yellow and white stripes); (_e_) three flowers, (_f_) a squash vine, these two representing vegetation, springing up after rain; and (_g_) the earth with its hills.
[52] Page 146, fig. 173.
Similar representations are found in embroideries in woven garments, thus a zig-zag line on a pouch[53] (fig. 94) represents lightning, the crosses the Pleiades.
[53] Carl Lumholtz, Decorative Art of the Huichol Indians, Memoirs American Museum of Natural History, Vol. III, p. 325, fig. 257.
Turning to Polynesia, von den Steinen[54] has given us a full description of tattooing of the Marquesans, from which it appears that in the minds of the natives the designs have definite significance. I mention a series of black triangles on rectangular bases, called the Fanaua, women who died in child birth (fig. 95 _a_); the cumulus clouds of the northwind (fig. 95 _b_). In fig. 95 _c_ the upper row was called by one informant, “the fellow with the step of the rooster”, the lower one “the hero Pohu and his house”. Another informant from another village, designated the figures with raised arms as legendary miscarriages consisting of a chest, the low semicircular and rectangular figures as others consisting of ribs only. Of the two analogous figures, 95 _d_ and _e_, the former is called a crab, the latter a turtle, while 95 _f_ is called the bath of the hero Kena.
[54] Karl von den Steinen, Die Marquesaner und ihre Kunst, Berlin 1925; also W. C. Handy, Tattooing in the Marquesas, Bernice P. Bishop Museum, Bulletin 7, Honolulu 1922.
We find in our civilization cases in which form or color composition possess symbolic significance entirely apart of their form values. The most obvious case is that of the national flags. They are not only ornamental, but possess a strong emotional appeal. They call forth the feeling of national allegiance and their values cannot be understood on a purely formal basis, but are founded upon the association of the form with definite fields of our emotional life. The same is true of certain symbols. In Germany, at the present time, the swastika as the symbol of antisemitism, and the David’s star as the Jewish symbol have very definite political significance and are apt to excite the most violent passions when used for decorative purposes,—not on account of their form, but because of the emotional reaction to the ideas they represent. Military insignia, emblems of secret societies, students’ emblems and other regalia exert the same influence through their associations. Owing to the strong emotional value of these patterns and the specific character of the associations, the use of the ornament may be restricted to special classes of objects, or reserved for privileged classes or individuals. Thus, among ourselves, the cross, or the flag, cannot appropriately be used at all places and at all times, and insignia of rank are confined to those who have the right to wear them. Just so, totemic devices may be used only by the privileged, not by those who belong to another totem. Strong emotional values are commonly associated with all forms that are used in important rituals. The simple ornaments of cedarbark dyed red which are used by the Indians of British Columbia have such an appeal, because the ornamental attachments symbolize the gifts that the wearer has received from his supernatural protector.
It is readily recognized that these conditions can prevail only when the interpretation of the ornament, and with it its emotional significance are firmly established in the minds of the people; if all react without fail, without hesitation to the same pattern. This is not by any means the case everywhere. On the contrary, many cases are known in which there is considerable wavering in regard to the meaning of the symbol. One person may interpret it one way, another, another way. For instance, in the designs of the Californian Indians, the same form will be called by different people, or even by the same person at different times, now a lizard’s foot, then a mountain covered with trees, then again an owl’s claw. It is conceivable that an individual may feel a strong emotional value of a design, but in a case of variable associations the symbol has no binding emotional value for the whole tribe. It will be the less relevant the more variable the individual and tribal associations. I believe this is also the reason why among ourselves an expressionistic art is impossible, or why at least it cannot appeal to the people as a whole. It is possible for an artist to train a group of followers and admirers in the symbolism that he cultivates, but it is exceedingly unlikely that such symbolism should develop in such a way that it would be felt automatically by all of us. In music a few associations of this type exist. We feel, for instance, the difference of mood in the major and minor keys; the former mood joyful and energetic; the latter gentle, moody or even sad. It is well to remember that these emotional tones are not by any means everywhere connected with these two forms, but that in the music of other people that have something comparable to our major or minor, the relations may be quite different. We also feel a certain energy connected with the major key of E flat, but undoubtedly this is due to very specific associations that are not valid in other cultural areas.
Expressionistic art requires a very firm and uniform cultural background, such as is possessed by many peoples of simple social structure, but that cannot exist in our complex society with its manifold, intercrossing interests and its great variety of situations that create different emotional centers for each of its numerous strata.
It is, therefore, important to know whether there exist firm associations between form and significance, and whether these associations are accompanied by strong emotional reactions.
The former question may be investigated in two ways: By studying the variety of forms which are used to represent the same objects, and conversely by illustrating the variety of explanations given to the same form. Arapaho designs collected by Kroeber offer a favourable field for this study. The range of forms interpreted as the star (fig. 96) is based on the tendency in the art of the Plains Indians to use triangular and quadrangular figures and narrow lines, and on the scarcity of polygons. We find, therefore, as representations of stars, crosses, groups of squares, diamonds and a cross with triangular wings. In the last quite exceptional figure of this series the star is represented by a hexagon. In some cases the association between the form and its meaning becomes more intelligible through the general setting in which the design element is found, as for instance, through the color contrast between design and background.[55]
[55] See A. L. Kroeber “The Arapaho”, Bulletin of the American Museum of Natural History, Vol. 17.
The variety of forms which are used to represent a person may serve as another example (fig. 97). Some of these are similar to the forms used to represent the star.
Still another example is the representation of the butterfly (fig. 98). In this series one of the designs representing the star will be found.
Conversely a diamond is explained as a person, a turtle, the navel, a mountain, a lake, a star, an eye. The setting of the design does not by any means explain sufficiently why these varying interpretations should be used.
A rectangle represents a camp circle, brush hut, a mountain, the earth, a buffalo or life; a triangle with an enclosed rectangular or pentagonal figure (see fig. 117, p. 120) is explained as a mountain with trees, a cave in the mountain, a brush hut or a tent.
The second form in fig. 98 is explained as a butterfly or the morning-star.
In bead embroidery we find frequently a central design in the form of a diamond, from the acute angles of which, extend straight lines. To the ends of these triangular designs or other small forms are attached. In fig. 152 (p. 178) some of these designs are shown. The first one is taken from a pouch (_j_); the central diamond represents a person, the triangular designs at the ends of the lines, buffalo hoofs. A similar design (_k_) from a moccasin represents the navel and arrows; the background is snow. In a third example (_q_) the central diamond represents a turtle, the lines its claws and the small patterns at the ends of these lines, eggs.
Another example of the variation of explanation of the same design is found in designs from New Ireland[56] (fig. 99). The chevron represents the leaf of a palm, an armring, a worm, the foot of a bird, tracks of a crustacean, or fish bones.
[56] Stephan, Neu-Mecklenburg, p. 114, fig. 120. The same figure is found in the same author’s “Südseekunst”, p. 15, fig. 19, with somewhat different explanations, presumably due to an oversight.
The great variety of these interpretations of the same figure and of the many forms by means of which the same ideas find expression, show clearly that the terms by which designs are described must not be conceived simply as names, but that rather a certain association exists between the general artistic pattern and a number of ideas which are selected according to tribal usage, and also in accordance with the momentary interest of the person who gives the explanation.
Often the range of ideas associated with forms follows a fairly definite pattern in each tribe. We may compare this condition with attitudes which we assume in regard to forms that may have varying types of symbolic connotation. To a Canadian, a British flag surmounted by maple leaves would be closely associated with patriotic feeling, and in this connection the maple leaf has a definite significance; in other combinations it may appear with quite a different meaning. A red maple leaf may be symbolic of the fall of the year.
During the World War the bloody hand was used on posters to excite the populace to hatred, because it was symbolic of the imaginary cruelty of the German soldier and this association was assiduously cultivated by word and letter. In another setting a bloody hand may be a symbol of suffering or of sacrifice, as the red hand impressed on church walls or sanctuaries.
A white rose may be a symbol of death or innocence. A crescent may bring up a thought of Turkey, a beautiful summer night, or it may be conceived purely as form.
Not only is the significance of designs variable, the explanations of forms found on the same object seem often quite incoherent. The cases are not very numerous in which we find a clearly defined, consistent symbolism extending over the whole pattern.
Judging from information given by Stephan in regard to paintings and carvings from Melanesia,[57] the explanations, varied and incoherent as they may be, are given without hesitation and although the same pattern elements are not given every time the same interpretation, the whole grouping, expressed at any given time, seems to be clear in the mind of the person who gives the explanation.
[57] Emil Stephan, Südseekunst, p. 86.
In by far the majority of cases the interpretation appears to us as entirely incoherent. The terms by which the same forms are designated by different individuals and at different times are so varied that it is difficult to assume that we are merely dealing with names of design elements.
As a typical example of lack of relation between the symbols composing the ornament may be mentioned an Arapaho knife scabbard[58] (fig. 100). “The green lines forming a square at the top represent rivers. The figure within is an eagle. The two larger dark portions of this figure are also cattle-tracks. The two rows of triangles on the body of the scabbard represent arrow-points. The squares in the middle are boxes, and the lines between them are the conventional morning-star cross. The small squares on the pendant attached to the point of the scabbard are cattle-tracks.”
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Primitive artChapter III: Part 3
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