Art Principles Part 21

NOTE 21. PAGE 55

There seems to be a tendency to overestimate the disparity between translations of high poetry and the originals. The value of a translation depends primarily upon the character of the thing translated, since it is the form that is unreproducible in another tongue, and not the substance. In epic and dramatic poetry where the form is of secondary importance, a good literal translation may come much nearer to the original than a translation of a lyric where the form is usually of at least equal importance with the substance. We lose less of Homer or Sophocles than of Sappho or Theocritus in translation. In the case of epic poetry the higher its character, the closer to the original appears the translation, because the form is of less relative importance. More of Dante is lost than of Homer in literal translation, but the difference narrows when the new versions are in metrical form, for the use of metre in translation is necessarily more detrimental as the substance of the original increases in power, and this relative weakening is emphasized as the beauty of form in the translation is raised. Pope is farther from Homer than Chapman, and Chapman than the prose translations of Buckley and Lang. As we descend in the scale of the art, so it becomes more difficult to reproduce the poet in translation, and in most lyric poetry the beauty seems almost entirely lost in another tongue from the original, though when the substance is of weight, and the translator is himself a good poet, he sometimes gives us a paraphrase with a high beauty of its own. Some modern poets seem to eschew substance altogether. Much of the verse of esteemed French and Belgian poets is quite meaningless in literal translation, the authors relying for the effects entirely upon musical form and beauty of expression.

NOTE 22. PAGE 66

Lessing points out this remarkable picture of Homer as emphasizing the beauty of Helen, observing:

What could produce a more vivid idea of beauty than making old age confess that it is well worth while the war which cost so much blood, and so much treasure?

Nevertheless the remark of the old men does not seem to mean so much as the description of the sages and their reference to the G.o.ddesses. It is difficult to imagine several wise men agreeing that the sanguinary war of nine years was really excusable in view of Helen's beauty, and the statement therefore is naturally received as a permissible overcolour.

Consequently the effect of the remark would be discounted, and unlikely to be sufficient for the purpose of the poet. True, the Greeks seem to have been childlike sometimes in their simplicity, but there is no evidence that they were so wanting in a sense of proportion as to accept literally this opinion of the elders. But when we observe the senility of the elders, and the physical feebleness which has apparently rendered them incapable of sensual pleasures, then indeed we must marvel at a beauty which excites their emotions so powerfully as to bring the G.o.ddesses to their minds.[a]

In discussing the suitableness of this incident as a subject for a painting, Lessing remarks that the pa.s.sion felt by the old men was "a momentary spark which their wisdom at once extinguished," but later on, referring to the possibility that the veil worn by Helen when she pa.s.sed through the streets of Troy had not been removed when she was seen by the elders, he points out[b]:

When the elders displayed their admiration for her, it must not be forgotten that they were not seeing her for the first time. Their confession therefore did not necessarily arise from the present momentary view of her, for they had doubtless often experienced before the feelings which they now for the first time acknowledged.

This is very true, but it only serves to deepen the impression of Helen's beauty, for the element of surprise is removed from the minds of the elders, the mere sight of her, veiled or unveiled, being sufficient to recall the pa.s.sionate thrills previously experienced.

[a] See on this subject Quintilian, viii., 4.

[b] _Laoc.o.o.n_, Ronnfeldt translation.

NOTE 23. PAGE 67

In nearly all the instances of sublimity quoted by Longinus there is this particular merit of brevity---the picture is thrown upon the brain immediately, without pause or anything whatever to complicate the beauty. But the learned critic directs attention only to the magnificent thoughts and the appropriate use of them, without pointing out the extraordinary condensation of the language employed. Apart from the instance from Genesis given, there is another of his examples in which practically the whole beauty of the picture is produced by the rapidity of its presentation. This is the exclamation of Hyperides when accused of pa.s.sing an illegal decree for the liberation of slaves--"It was not an orator that made this decree, but the battle of Chaeronea." Longinus observes[a]:

At the same time that he exhibits proof of his legal proceedings, he intermixes an image of the battle, and by that stroke of art quite pa.s.ses the bounds of mere persuasion.

But it was rather the manner in which the battle was introduced than the fact of its introduction, that gave force to the argument. If instead of confining himself to a short brilliant observation, Hyperides had carefully traced cause and effect in the matter, he would still have intermixed an image of the battle, but he would not then have produced a work of art.

Still finer instances of the use of brevity in expresssion by the orator are to be found in the speeches of Demosthenes. For example in his oration On the Crown he says: "Man is not born to his parents only, but to his country." A whole volume on the meaning and virtue of patriotism could not say more: hence the sublime art. The simple statement lights a torch by which we examine every convulsion in history; presents a moving picture in which we see the motives and aspirations guiding the patriots of a hundred generations; sets an eternal seal of n.o.bility upon the love of man for his native country. And a few words suffice. The same thought might be elaborated into a large volume, but the art would fly with the brevity.

[a] _On the Sublime_, XV., William Smith translation.

NOTE 24. PAGE 68

There are many translations of the Ode to Anactoria, but the best of them reflects only slightly the depth of pa.s.sion in the original. The version which most nearly represents the substance, while maintaining the unhalting flow of language, is perhaps that of Ambrose Philips (1675-1749), which runs thus:--

Blest as th' immortal G.o.ds is he, The youth who fondly sits by thee, And hears, and sees thee all the while Softly speak, and sweetly smile.

'Twas this deprived my soul of rest, And raised such tumults in my breast; For while I gazed, in transport tost, My breath was gone, my voice was lost.

My bosom glowed; the subtle flame Ran quick through all my vital frame; O'er my dim eyes a darkness hung; My ears with hollow murmurs rung.

In dewy damps my limbs were chilled; My blood with gentle horrors thrilled; My feeble pulse forgot to play; I fainted, sunk, and died away.

The English reproductions of this ode in the Sapphic measure are not very successful, the difficulty of course being due to the practical impossibility of fulfilling the quant.i.tative conditions of the strophe without stilting the flow of language, or unduly varying the substance.

But it has been shown by Dr. Marion Miller in his translation of Sappho's Hymn to Aphrodite, which is much higher in substance and somewhat less condensed in expression than the Ode to Anactoria, that with certain liberties in respect of quant.i.ties, a very beautiful semblance of the Sapphic measure may be produced in English. His translation of this hymn is unquestionably the best in our language, though this is perhaps partly due to the fact that he is almost the only translator who has adhered to the text in regard to the s.e.x of the loved person. To make the object of affection a man seems inappropriate to the language employed in the verse. (It is proper to mention that a license taken by Dr. Miller in his translation---where he renders the pa.s.sage relating to the sparrows, as "clouding with their pinions, Earth's wide dominions"--suggested to the present writer the somewhat similar picture to be found on Page 111.)

[Ill.u.s.tration: PLATE 26 (See page 250) St. Margaret, by Raphael (_Louvre_)]

NOTE 25. PAGE 68

The gradual decadence of the great period of Grecian sculpture is well marked by the successive variations of the Cnidian Aphrodite of Praxiteles. The copy of this at the Vatican is no doubt a close representation of the original, but later there was commenced a long series of variations, all of them more or less complicating the design.

First a pillar was subst.i.tuted for the vase, reaching nearly to the armpits, and the left forearm rested upon it, while drapery fell down the front, so that some exertion was required to separate the figure to the eye. Then a dolphin was subst.i.tuted for the pillar, the head of the animal resting on the ground, and the body rising up straight with the bent tail forming the support. Then for this was placed a dolphin with its body corkscrew shaped, which was particularly weak as it tended to deprive the figure of repose. After this, while the dolphin was maintained, a cestus was sometimes added, and heavy drapery applied in various folds. Finally the att.i.tude of the figure was changed, that of the Venus de' Medici being adopted, while the pillar or dolphin was retained. Each alteration necessarily diminished the beauty of the figure.

NOTE 26. PAGE 69

Reynolds seems to have been disappointed with the frescoes of Raphael when he first saw them, and this fact has been called in evidence by some modern critics to support their contention that the art of the great masters is really inferior to that wherein design is subordinated to colour. But Reynolds very definitely admitted that his first impression was wrong, for after studying the frescoes, he notes[a]:

In a short time a new taste and a new perception began to dawn upon me, and I was convinced that I had originally formed a false opinion of the perfection of art, and that this great painter was well ent.i.tled to the high rank which he holds in the admiration of the world.

Reynolds was quite a young man when he went to Rome, and his appreciation of Raphael increased as his experience matured. More than twenty years after the visit, he remarked that Raphael had "a greater combination of the high qualities of the art than any other man,"[b] and ten years later he affirmed that the Urbino artist stood foremost among the first painters.[c] Reynolds supposed that his lack of appreciation of the frescoes when he first saw them arose from want of immediate comprehension of them: he was unaccustomed to works of such great power, but it is to be observed that his inspection was a very short one, and we may reasonably draw the conclusion that changing light conditions had much to do with the effect the paintings left upon him at the time. When one enters a room where the light differs materially in intensity or quality from that experienced just previously, it is advisable to rest quietly for a little while before examining works defined by colour, in order that the eyes may become accustomed to the new light.

[a] Reynolds's _Italian Note Book_.

[b] His Fifth Discourse at the Royal Academy.

[c] His Twelfth Discourse.

NOTE 27. PAGE 73

That the judgment of the public upon a work of art is final seems to have been recognized by all the ancient writers who dealt with the matter, and that the Greeks generally held this view is evident from many incidents, notably the reference to public judgment in the great compet.i.tion between Phidias and Alcamenes. During the Renaissance also the opinion held good, and it is worth noting that the suggestion sometimes made that Michelangelo did not conform to this view is unsupported by evidence. Vasari relates the following anecdote[a]:

He [Michelangelo] went to see a work of sculpture which was about to be sent out because it was finished, and the sculptor was taking much trouble to arrange the lights from the windows to the end that it might show up well; whereupon Michelangelo said to him: "Do not trouble yourself, the important thing will be the light of the piazza"; meaning to infer that when works are in public places, the people must judge whether they are good or bad.

Lionardo went so far as to advise artists to hear any man's opinion on his work, "for," he said, "we know very well that though a man may not be a painter, he has a true conception of the form of another man."[b]

It is a common misconception with the general public, though not among serious artists, that by reason of their profession artists are better judges of works of art than other men. Obviously the recognition of beauty in art is apart altogether from the means by which it is created, and subject to the exceptions noted elsewhere, all men are alike able to appreciate high beauty. Winckelmann even advised his readers against the judgment of artists on the ground that they generally preferred what is difficult to what is beautiful,[c] but experience with the great art bodies in Europe who hold exhibitions does not support this view. It is only the weaker artists who are liable to be prejudiced in such matters, and when the judges are of high attainments in art, they almost invariably make the same choice in compet.i.tions that would be made if general opinion were solicited. But although artists cannot be better judges of high-cla.s.s works of art (as beautiful things) than other men of equal intelligence, their training usually enables them to distinguish obscure forms of beauty which would be unrecognized by the general public, and in matters of colour to differentiate between ephemeral and more or less permanent harmonies. Hence while the public interests would not suffer from the introduction of the lay element in judging high cla.s.s sculpture and painting, it is obvious that the consideration of works where the lower forms of beauty only are produced, as in formal decoration, should be confined to the profession.

In music alone of the arts, for reasons already given, special cultivation is necessary for the judgment of the higher forms of beauty.

[a] _Life of Michelangelo Buonarotti_, De Vere translation.

[b] McCurdy's _Lionardo da Vinci's Note Books_.