Quite similar observations may be made on the clothing of the Amur
tribes. The skin clothing worn by the people, particularly on festive
occasions, is beautifully ornamented in appliqué, or by painting. The
ornaments are in part geometrical, in part representative. Figures of
birds and fish abound (fig. 60). On the other hand the painted dresses
of shamans are roughly executed (Plate VI). They represent mythological
concepts and have a value solely on account of their meaning. The
interest does not center in the form. As compared to wearing apparel
they are crudely done, for the beauty of execution is of minor
importance.
[Illustration: Fig. 61. Upper row, pictographs of Ojibwa Indians; lower
row, of Dakota Indians.]
A third example is found among the North American Indians of the Great
Plains. Their representative art, in the strict sense of the term, is
almost entirely confined to a crude form of picture writing. They have
not developed a high technique of painting and the forms of horses,
men, buffaloes and tents are merely reminders of incidents in the life
of the people. The figures (fig. 61) are in no way ornamental and
bear no relation to the object on which they are depicted. They are
made for the purpose of representation only. They are not art in the
rigid sense of the term. Judging from the character of the figures
and their use we may safely say that the artistic interest is entirely
absent. We may even apply this observation to the picture writing of
the ancient Mexicans (fig. 62), which, as compared to their sculpture,
is of inferior value. The importance of communicating ideas outweighs
the artistic interest. We shall see later on that nevertheless there is
a definite relation between artistic style and the forms of inartistic
painting (see p. 164).
[Illustration: Fig. 62. Mexican painting from Codex Borbonicus.]
Incidentally it may be remarked here that the difference in interest
sometimes leads to contrasting art styles, provided the representative
work is also executed in a perfectly controlled technique. Thus the
Northwest Americans who have a very characteristic style of art
sometimes make carvings that are intended to deceive by their realism.
In one of their ceremonies a person is apparently decapitated and after
the decapitation the head is shown held by the hair. This head is
carved in wood and done with great care in a most realistic fashion. It
is entirely free of the stylistic characteristics of Northwest coast
carving and painting (see fig. 156, p. 185).
We revert now to a consideration of the simple, crude representative
drawings. The most important inference that may be drawn from the
study of such representations, graphic as well as plastic, is that the
problem of representation is first of all solved by the use of symbolic
forms. There is no attempt at accurate delineation. Neither primitive
man nor the child believes that the design or the figure he produces is
actually an accurate picture of the object to be represented. A round
knob on an elongated cylinder may represent head and body; two pairs of
thin, straight strips of rounded cross section, arms and legs; or in a
drawing a circle over a rectangle may suggest head and body; straight
lines, arms and legs; short diverging lines at the ends of arms and
legs, hand and feet.
[Illustration: Fig. 63. _a_, Carved figure, Philippine Islands; _b_,
Marble figure representing harpist, Thera.]
The break between symbolic representation and realism may occur in one
of two ways. The artist may endeavor to render the form of the object
to be represented in forceful outline and subordinate all consideration
of detail under the concept of the mass as a whole. He may even discard
all details and cover the form with more or less fanciful decoration
without losing the effect of realism of the general outline and of
the distribution of surfaces and of masses. On the other hand, he may
endeavor to give a realistic representation of details and his work may
consist of an assembly of these, with little regard to the form as a
whole.
An excellent example of the former method is the Filipino wood carving,
fig. 63 _a_. Head and chest show the concentration of the artist upon
the delimiting surfaces and an utter disregard of detail. The same
method is used in the figure of a harpist belonging to the ancient art
of the Cyclades (fig. 63 _b_).
In fig. 64, an African mask, the surfaces of forehead, eyes, cheeks
and nose are the determinants of the form which has been treated
decoratively with the greatest freedom. There are no ears; the eyes are
slits with geometrical ornaments; the mouth a circle enclosing a cross.
In fig. 65, representing a painted carving from New Guinea, the outline
of the face, emphasized by the hair line, eyes, and mouth, is easily
recognized, but all the other parts are treated purely decoratively.
[Illustration: Fig. 64. Wooden mask, Urua, Congo.]
[Illustration: Fig. 65. Carved board, Papua Gulf, New Guinea.]
The opposite method is found, for instance, in Egyptian paintings and
reliefs in which eyes, nose, hands, and feet are shown with a fair
degree of realism, but composed in ways that distort the natural form
and which are perspectively impossible (fig. 66). A still better
example is the drawing, fig. 67, an attempt of one of the best Haida
artists from Northern British Columbia to illustrate the story of
an eagle carrying away a woman. The face of the woman is evidently
intended as a three-quarter view. Facial painting will be noticed on
the left cheek; the left ear only is shown as seen in profile; the
mouth with teeth is placed under the nose in mixed full profile and
front view, and has been moved to the right side of the face. In the
lower lip is a large labret shown _en face_, for only in this view
was the artist able to show the labret with its characteristic oval
surface. The nose seems to be drawn in profile although the nostrils
appear _en face_.
[Illustration: Fig. 66. Egyptian painting.]
[Illustration: Fig. 67. Haida drawing representing eagle carrying away
a woman.]
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.
[Illustration: Fig. 68. Egyptian drawings; above: bowl and pitcher;
below: sleeping person covered by blanket.]
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.
[Illustration: Fig. 69. Eskimo etching on walrus tusk, Alaska.]
[Illustration: Fig. 70. Bushman rock paintings.]
[Illustration: Fig. 71. Paleolithic painting representing bison.]
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.
[Illustration: Fig. 72. Hat of the Nootka Indians.]
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.
[Illustration: Fig. 73. Koryak carvings.]
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.
[Illustration: Fig. 74. Bronze casting, Benin.]
[Illustration: Fig. 75. Headmask, Cross River, Cameroon.]
[Illustration: Fig. 76. Terra cotta head from Ife, Yoruba country.]
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.
[Illustration: Fig. 77. Pottery head from Arkansas.]
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.
[Illustration: Fig. 78. Ivory and bone carvings, and tattooing of
eastern Eskimo.]
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.