22. The Aphrodite Urania, in ivory and gold, at Elis. This statue,
attributed by Pausanias to Phidias, “stands with one of its feet on a
tortoise.”
23. A bronze figure of Apollo Parnopius, in the Acropolis. The
authority for this statue is Pausanias, who states that “it is said to
be the work of Phidias,”—λέγουσι Φειδίαν ποιῆσαι. Tradition alone gives
it to Phidias.
24. Aphrodite Urania, _in marble_, in the temple near the Ceramicus.
This also is attributed by Pausanias to Phidias.
25. A statue of the Mother of the Gods, sitting on a throne, supported
by lions, in the Metroum near the Ceramicus. This is attributed by
Pausanias and Arrian to Phidias. Pliny, on the contrary, says it is by
Agoracritos.
26. The Golden Throne, so called, and supposed generally to be that of
the Athena. What this was is very dubious. It could not be the throne
of the Athena, for she had no throne, and probably was another name for
the Athena herself. Plutarch calls it “τῆς θεοῦ τὸ χρυσοῦν ἕδος,” and
Isocrates, “τὸ τῆς Ἀθηνὰς ἕδος.”
27. Statue of Athena, at Elis, in ivory and gold. Pausanias says it is
attributed to Phidias,—“φασὶν Φείδιου,”—_they say_ it is by Phidias.
Pliny, however, says it was executed by Kolotes.
28. Statue of Æsculapius, at Epidaurus. This is attributed to Phidias
by Athenagoras (Legat. pro Arist.); but by Pausanias to Thrasymedes of
Paros.
29. At the entrance of the Ismenion, near Thebes, are two _marble_
statues called Pronaoi—one of Athena, ascribed by Pausanias to Scopas,
and one of Hermes, ascribed by Pausanias to Phidias.
30. A Zeus, at the Olympieum at Megara. The head of this statue was
made of gold and ivory, the rest of clay and gypsum. “This work _is
said_ (λέγουσι) to have been made by Theocosmos, a citizen of Megara,
with the assistance of Phidias,” says Pausanias, and it was interrupted
by the breaking out of the Peloponnesian war. Probably it was executed
solely by Theocosmos.
31. The statue of Nemesis, at Rhamnus, _in marble_, attributed to
Phidias by Pausanias; but there can be little question that it was made
by Agoracritos.
32. The Amazon. This statue, which is highly praised by Lucian, was,
according to Pliny, made by Phidias in competition with Polyclitus,
Ctesilaus, Cydon, and Phradmon; the first prize being given to
Polyclitus, the second to Phidias, the third to Ctesilaus, and the
fourth to Cydon.
33, 34, 35. Three bronze statues mentioned by Pliny, the subjects not
stated, and placed by Catulus in the Temple of Fortune.
36. The marble Venus in the portico of Octavia, which Pliny says “is
said to be by Phidias.”
37. The Horse-Tamer, in marble, now existing, and standing before the
Quirinal in Rome.
There are some other statues attributed to Phidias by various writers,
which may be at once rejected. Among them were the statues of Zeus and
Apollo at Patara, in Lycia, which were supposed by Clemens Alexandrinus
to have been by Phidias, but which are clearly settled to have been
by Bryaxis. So also the Kairos, or Opportunity, by Lysippus, was
attributed to Phidias by Ausonius; and the famous Venus of the Gardens
(ἐν κήποις), by Alcamenes, was said to have received its finishing
touches from him.
It will, I think, be clear that many of the statues in the foregoing
list must also be rejected. In the last ten years of his life he
executed only two statues, each colossal—the Athena of the Parthenon,
and the Zeus at Olympia. Taking the earliest date of his artistic
career at five years before the battle of Marathon, according to the
theory of Thiersch, he would, as we have seen, have had forty-five
years only in which to execute the other thirty-five statues, besides
all the other and minute work to which, as we shall see, he gave his
genius. Several, at least, of these statues are colossal, several
elaborately wrought in ivory and gold; and it is in the highest degree
improbable that they could have been executed in this period of time.
On examination of the list, three at least will be seen to rest purely
on tradition. The Apollo Parnopius and the Athena at Elis are mentioned
by Pausanias as being “said to be” by Phidias. The Venus of the portico
of Octavia “is said to be by Phidias,” says Pliny. Little weight can
be given to current and common opinion in respect to the authorship
of works of art executed many centuries before, about which there is
no written documentary proof. In our own time it is always exceedingly
difficult, and often impossible, to decide upon the authorship of
pictures and statues of one hundred years ago. Double that period, and
the difficulty would of course be enormously increased. Now Pausanias
wrote some six hundred years after the death of Phidias, and yet we are
ready to accept as authoritative his passing statement that a certain
statue “is said” to be by Phidias. How many statues at the present day
are said to be by Michel Angelo, which he never saw! How many spurious
Raffaelles and Titians adorn our galleries! Do we not know that every
traveler in Italy sees statues “said to be” by Michel Angelo in such
numbers that ten Michel Angelos could not have made them all? There
is scarcely a church that does not boast of something from his hand.
There is no reason to suppose that the case was not similar in Greece
fifteen hundred years ago, and none to suppose that Pausanias was
superior in artistic knowledge and acumen to any average intelligent
traveler of his day. He did not stop to investigate the grounds upon
which the popular or accidental account given him as to the authorship
of any work was founded, nor does he pretend to have done so. He took
it for what it was worth. “They say the statue is by Phidias.” He had,
besides, as far as we know, no written authority for what he said,—at
least he cites none.
Again, in respect to the authorship of some of the statues of which
he speaks, he at times differs from other writers, and at times
unquestionably mistakes. Thus, to cite only examples in the case of
Phidias, the statue of Athena, at Elis, he attributes to Phidias,
while Pliny says it was by Kolotes. Again, the statue of Æsculapius,
at Epidaurus, he attributes to Thrasymedes of Paros, while Athenagoras
says it was the work of Phidias. In like manner, the statue of the
Mother of the Gods, which Pausanias and Arrian give to Phidias,
Pliny declares to be the work of Agoracritos. Still more, Pausanias
distinctly affirms that the Nemesis at Rhamnus was executed by Phidias;
while Pliny, on the contrary, asserts it to be the work of Agoracritos.
And in this assertion Pliny is borne out by Zenobius, who gives us the
inscription on the branch in the hand of Nemesis: ΑΓΟΡΑΚΡΙΤΟΣ ΠΑΡΙΟΣ
ΕΠΟΙΗΣΕΝ. Strabo, however, hesitates between Agoracritos and an unknown
Diodotos, and says it was remarkable for beauty and size, and might
well compete with the works of Phidias; and to confuse matters still
more, at a later time Pomponius Mela, Hesychius, and Solon agree with
Pausanias. There would seem, after weighing all authorities, to be
little doubt that the Nemesis was the work of Agoracritos.
Nothing could more clearly show the easy way in which traditions grow
like barnacles upon artists and works of art, than the story connected
with this statue. Pliny says that Agoracritos contended with Alcamenes
in making a statue of Venus; and the preference being given to that of
Alcamenes, he was so indignant at the decision that he immediately made
certain alterations in his own statue, called it Nemesis, and sold it
to the people of Rhamnus, on condition that it should not be set up in
Athens. This is absurd enough. After a statue of Venus is finished,
what sort of change would be required to make a Nemesis of it? But
let us see how well this statue would have represented Aphrodite.
Pausanias says that “out of the marble brought by the barbarians to
Marathon for a trophy Phidias made a statue of Nemesis, and on the
head of the goddess there is a crown adorned with stags and images
of victory of no great magnitude; and in the left hand she holds the
branch of an ash-tree, and in her right a cup, on which the Æthiopians
are carved—why, I cannot assign any reason.” Now, in the first place,
the assertion that it was a work of marble brought to make a trophy at
Marathon is a myth. In the next place, these are certainly peculiar
characteristics for an Aphrodite. The statue itself was undoubtedly
a noble statue, however, and the best work of Agoracritos. As it was
not the custom for sculptors in Greece to inscribe their names on
their statues, it may have happened that it soon came to be popularly
attributed to Phidias, according to the general rule, that to the
master is ascribed the best work of his pupil and his school. Then
it was, probably, that the inscription was placed on the statue,
reclaiming it for its true author. However this may be, Photias,
Suidas, and Tzetzes, as late as from the tenth to the twelfth century,
are determined that Phidias shall have it, despite the inscription;
and accordingly they report and publish, many long centuries after—and
gifted by what second-sight into the past who can tell?—that though
it is true that the statue is supposed to have been executed by
Agoracritos, yet in fact it was made by Phidias, who generously allowed
Agoracritos to put his name on it, and pass it off as his own.
In further illustration of this parasitic growth of legend and
tradition may be also cited in this connection the story told by
Tzetzes the Grammarian, some seventeen centuries after the death of
Phidias. According to him, Alcamenes and Phidias competed in making a
statue of Athena, to be placed in an elevated position; and when their
figures were finished and exposed to public view near the level of the
eye, the preference was decidedly given to the figure of Alcamenes; but
as soon as the figures were elevated to their destined position, the
public declared immediately in favor of that of Phidias. The object
of the writer of this story is to prove the extraordinary skill of
Phidias in optical perspective, and to show that he had calculated his
proportions with such foresight, that though the figure, when seen
near the level of the eye, appeared inharmonious, it became perfectly
harmonious when seen from far below. Now all that any artist could do
to produce this effect would be, perhaps, to give more length to his
figures in comparison with their breadth. This, however, would be not
only a doubtful expedient in itself, but entirely at variance with
the practice of Phidias. His figures, like all those of his period,
were stouter in proportion to their breadth, and particularly stouter
in the relation of the lower limbs to the torso, than the figures of
a later period. The canon of proportion accepted then was that of
Polyclitus; and the proportions were afterward varied and the lower
limbs were lengthened, first by Euphranor, and subsequently still more
by Lysippus. Any distortion or falsification of proportion would be
effective solely in a statue with one point of view, and exhibited
as a relief; for if it were a figure in the round, and seen from all
points, the perspective would be utterly false, unless the proportions
were harmonious in themselves and true to nature. Tzetzes is a great
gossip, and peculiarly untrustworthy in his statements; but his story
is of such a nature as to please the ignorant public, and it has
been accepted and repeated constantly, though he does not give any
authority for it, and plainly invented it out “of the depths of his own
consciousness,” as the German _savant_ did the camel.
One cannot be too careful in accepting traditions about artists or
their works. The public invents its facts, and believes what it
invents. Very few of the pleasing anecdotes connected with artists
will bear critical examination, any more than the famous sayings
attributed on great occasions to extraordinary men; still the grand
phrase of Cambronne is as gravely repeated in history as if it had some
foundation in fact, and everybody believes that Da Vinci died in the
arms of Francis I. Perhaps it is scarcely worth while to break up such
pleasant traditions, and certainly the public resists such attempts.
It is so delightful to think that the gallant and accomplished King
of France supported the great Italian artist, and soothed his last
moments, that it seems sheer brutality to dissipate such an illusion;
yet, unfortunately, we know that Leonardo died at Cloux, near Amboise,
on May 2, 1679,—and from a journal kept by the king, and still
(disgracefully enough) existing in the imperial library in Paris, we
know that on that very day he held his Court at St. Germain-en-Laye;
and besides this, Lomazzo distinctly tells us that the king first heard
the news of Leonardo’s death from Melzi; while Melzi himself, who wrote
to Leonardo’s friend immediately after his death, makes no mention of
such a fact.
But to return from this digression to a consideration of the list of
works attributed to Phidias. We have already seen that in regard to
six of the statues there are, to say the least, strong doubts as to
his authorship; but still more must be eliminated. The Zeus of the
Olympieum at Megara “is said,” according to Pausanias, “to have been
made by Theocosmos, with the assistance of Phidias.” This again is mere
tradition, which is so weak that it only pretends that Phidias assisted
Theocosmos. Phidias assisting Theocosmos has a strange sound; and it is
plain that Theocosmos is the real author of this statue, even granting
that the great master may have helped the lesser one.
Again, Pausanias tells us that of the two marble statues called Pronaoi
at the entrance of the Ismenion, that representing Athena was made by
Scopas, and the other of Hermes was made by Phidias. These so-called
Pronaoi were statues standing at the entrance of the building, opposite
each other, a chief decorative ornament to the façade. Is it not
strange that the statue on one side should be made by Phidias, and
the opposite pedestal remain unoccupied until the time of Scopas,
nearly a century later? Is it not plain that the temple would not have
been considered finished until both statues were placed there? And
is it probable that the Greeks would have allowed it to remain thus
incomplete for a century? Besides, does it not seem singular, in view
of the fact that Phidias was peculiarly celebrated for his statues
of Athena, while Scopas was celebrated for his heroic figures and
demigods, that the Athena should have been assigned to Scopas, and
the Hermes to Phidias? When we also add the fact that these statues
were in marble,—a material in which, as we shall presently see, Phidias
certainly worked only exceptionally, if he ever worked at all, while
Scopas was a worker in marble,—it will, I think, be pretty clear that
Pausanias is mistaken in attributing this statue of Hermes to Phidias.
Again, “The Golden Throne” must probably be considered as a name for
the Athena of the Parthenon, since there is no golden throne of which
we have any knowledge ever made by Phidias. In like manner it is most
probable that the Athena mentioned by Pliny as being in Rome near the
temple of Julian, and dedicated by Paulus Æmilius, was the Athena
Lemnia in bronze, taken from the Acropolis. These statues, which are
reckoned as four, must therefore in all probability be considered as
only two.
There remains one other statue in the list which certainly must be
struck out—the Horse-Tamer, still existing in Rome at the present day,
under the name of “Il Colosso di Monte Cavallo.” This statue, or rather
group, stands on the Quirinal Hill, and on its pedestal are inscribed
the words “Opus Phidiæ.” It is cited by Dr. Smith in his Dictionary
as a work of Phidias, and he thinks it may be the “altrum colossicon
nudum” of which Pliny speaks. But Pliny cited this “colossicon nudum”
in his chapter on bronze works; and as this is in marble, he could not
have referred to it. Independent of all other considerations, however,
there is one simple fact that makes it almost impossible that it could
have been the work of Phidias, though curiously enough this simple fact
has apparently escaped the observation of critics. It is, that the
cuirass which supports the group is a Roman cuirass and not a Greek
cuirass, such as Phidias would necessarily have made.
The legend about this group and its companion, attributed with equal
absurdity to Praxiteles, is curious. In “Roma Sacra, Antica e Moderna,”
which was published in Rome in the latter part of the sixteenth
century, and constantly reprinted for at least a hundred years, we are
told that these two statues were made, one by Phidias, and the other
by Praxiteles, in competition with each other,—that they represent
Alexander taming Bucephalus, and were brought to Rome by Tiridates,
King of Armenia, as a present to Nero,—and that they were afterwards
restored and placed in the Thermæ of Constantine, from which place
they were transported to the Quirinal, and again restored and set up
by Sixtus V., with inscriptions, stating, that they were brought by
Constantine from Greece.
The inscriptions were as follows: under the horse of the statue
professing to be by Phidias, was inscribed: “Phidias, nobilis sculptor,
ad artificii præstantiam declarandam Alexandri Bucephaalum domantis
effigiem e marmore expressit.” On the base was inscribed: “Signa
Alexandri Magni celebrisque ejus Bucephal ex antiquitatis testimonio
Phidiæ et Praxitelis emulatione hoc marmore ad vivam effigiem expressa
a Fl. Constantino Max. e Græcia advecta suisque in Thermis in hoc
Quirinali monte collocata, temporis vi deformata, laceraque ad ejusdem
Imperatoris memoriam urbisque decorem, in pristinam formam restituta
hic reponi jussit anno MDXXXIX Pont. IV.” Under the horse of Praxiteles
was inscribed: “Praxiteles sculptor ad Phidiæ emulationem sui monumenta
ingenii relinquere cupiens ejusdem Alexandri Bucephalique signa felici
contentione perficit.”
Here are a charming series of assumptions, so completely in defiance of
history that one cannot help smiling; and were not the fact accredited,
it would be difficult to believe that these inscriptions could have
been placed under these statues. Phidias died probably in B. C. 432,
Praxiteles flourished about B. C. 364, nearly a century later, and
Alexander was not born till B. C. 356. Here we have Phidias making a
group of Alexander and Bucephalus, and representing an incident which
occurred a century after his death, and in competition with Praxiteles.
Absurdity and ignorance can scarcely go further; and, as we learn
from “Roma Sacra,” it afterwards occasioned such ridicule that Urban
VIII. removed the inscriptions, and substituted the simple words,
“Opus Phidiæ” and “Opus Praxitelis” under the respective statues,
still adhering to the legend that the two groups were the work of
these great artists. The fact is that they are Roman works, and were
neither brought by Tiridates from Armenia to present to Nero, nor by
Constantine from Greece.
Of the statues attributed to Phidias we may then strike out eleven as
resting, on the face of the facts, upon no sufficient authority. We
still shall have the large number of twenty-six important statues, many
of them colossal, which are far more than sufficient to have occupied
his life, even when reckoned at its longest probable term. To this
number it would be impossible to add the marble statues contained in
the Parthenon.
Michel Angelo lived to a great age. He was throughout his life a
very hard worker, devoting all his time to art. It is true that
he was devoted to architecture and fresco-painting, as well as to
sculpture, and that to these arts he gave much time; but still he was
by profession specially a sculptor, and a large portion of his life
was given to sculpture. He was, besides, impetuous and even violent
in his marble work; and not content with the labor of the day, gave
to it a portion of his nights, working with a candle fixed in his
cap—unless, indeed, this also be a legend, into which it is better
not to inquire too anxiously. Still, in the course of his long life
he executed very few statues: of the really accredited statues of any
size, the number, I think, does not exceed fifteen—and some of these
are merely roughed out and left unfinished. The explanation of this is
undoubtedly that casting in plaster having been then just invented, and
being very imperfect in its development, he was accustomed at once to
rough out his large statues from small sketches in terra cotta, after
the probable practice of the ancients. This obliged him personally
to do with his own hand much of the hard work which now, with the
increased facilities of the art and the perfecting of plaster-casting,
can safely be left to an ordinary workman; at all events, there are
no full-sized models existing of his great works. If, then, Michel
Angelo, with twenty years more of life, and with all his energy, could
produce only some fifteen statues of heroic size,—and these, many of
them, unfinished,—it will not seem necessary to suppose that Phidias
must have executed double that number, particularly when we remember
the colossal size of many of them (from forty to sixty feet in height),
the extreme elaboration and fineness of the workmanship, and the
difficulties growing out of the materials in which they were executed.
We have already seen, by the testimony of Themistius, that Phidias
was by no means rapid in his workmanship, but, on the contrary, slow
and elaborate in his finish—just the opposite in these respects from
Michel Angelo. This testimony of Themistius is borne out by all the
ancient writers who speak of him. His style was a singular combination
of the grand and colossal in design with the most minute and careful
finish of all details. He had a peculiar grace and refinement in
his art (χάρις τῆς τέχνης), says Dion Chrysostomus, who in another
passage distinguishes him from all his predecessors by the delicate
precision of his work (κατὰ τὴν ἀκρίβειαν τῆς ποιήσεως); τὸ ἀκριβές
is also attributed to him by Demetrius, in his treatise on Elocution;
and Dionysius of Halicarnassus celebrates his art as uniting these
qualities of _finesse_ of workmanship with grandeur of design (τὸ
σεμνὸν καὶ μεγαλότεχνον καὶ ἀξιωματικόν). The minute and almost
excessive elaboration of his great works, as they are described by
ancient authors, perfectly supports this judgment. Take, for instance,
the Zeus at Olympia, or the Athena of the Parthenon—his two greatest
statues in ivory and gold. Not content with carefully finishing the
main figures, he chased and ornamented them, as well as all the
accessories in every part, with the minute elaboration of a goldsmith.
The surface of the mantle of Zeus was wrought over with living figures
and flowers. Gold and gems were inserted. Cedar, ebony, and ivory were
inlaid and overlaid, and the whole was exquisitely painted. Each leg of
the throne on which Zeus sat was supported by four Victories dancing,
and two men were in front. The two front legs were surmounted by groups
representing a Theban youth seized by a sphinx, and beneath each of
these groups were Phœbus and Artemis shooting at the children of Niobe;
and still further on the legs were represented the battle of the
Amazons and the comrades of Achelous. Over the back of the throne were
three Graces on one side, and three Hours on the other. Four golden
lions supported the footstool, and along its border was worked in
relief or intaglio the battle of Theseus with the Amazons. The sides of
the throne were ornamented with numerous figures representing various
groups and actions—such as Helios mounting his chariot, Zeus and
Charis, Zeus and Hera, Aphrodite and Eros, Phœbus and Artemis, Poseidon
and Amphitrite, Athena and Heracles, and others. What wonderful
elaboration expended on a mere accessory of this Colossus!
Scarcely less remarkable for its extreme ornamentation was the Athena
of the Parthenon. The goddess was represented standing, dressed in a
long tunic reaching to her feet, with the ægis on her breast, a helmet
on her head, a spear in her left hand, touching a shield which rested
at her side upon the base, and holding in her right hand a golden
Victory, six feet in height. Her own height was twenty-six cubits, or
about forty feet. Her robes were of gold beaten out with the hammer;
her eyes were of colored marble or ivory, with gems inserted. Every
portion was minutely covered with work. The crest of the helmet was a
sphinx, on either side of which were griffins. The ægis was surrounded
by golden serpents interlaced, and in its centre was a golden or ivory
head of Medusa. The shield was embossed with reliefs, representing on
the inner side the battle of the Giants with the Gods, and on the outer
side the battle of the Athenians with the Amazons. Beneath the spear
was couched a dragon; and even the sandals, which were four dactyls
high, were ornamented with chasings representing the battle of the
Centaurs with the Lapithæ. The base, which alone occupied months of
labor, was covered by reliefs representing the birth of Pandora, and
the visit of the divinities to her with their gifts—the figures being
some twenty in number. The interior or core of the statue was probably
of wood, and over this all the nude parts were veneered with plates of
ivory to imitate flesh, while the draperies and accessories were of
gold plates so arranged as to be removable at pleasure.
Here is certainly work enough to employ any man a very long time in
designing and executing. The Victory which Athena held in her hand was
of large life-size, and might easily have occupied a year. Besides
this, there are the embossed _bassi-relievi_ on both sides of the
shield, the ægis, with the Medusa’s head and golden serpents, the
dragon at her feet, the sphinx and griffins on her helmet, and the
_relievi_ and chasings which ornamented the base and the sandals. Yet
these are merely accessories. What, then, must have been the time
devoted to the figure itself, to the disposition and working out of
those colossal draperies, and to the perfect elaboration of the head,
the arms, and the extremities!
The tendency of Phidias’ mind to great elaboration and refinement of
finish is shown in both of these works. Colossal as they were, august
and grand in their total expression, the parts were quite as remarkable
for laborious detail as the whole was for grandeur and impressiveness.
He is generally considered and spoken of now solely in relation to
these great works; but it must be remembered that with the ancients
he was also renowned for his minute works. Julian, in his Epistles,
tells us that he was accustomed to amuse himself with making very small
images, representing for example bees, flies, cicadæ, and fishes, which
were executed with infinite delicacy, and greatly admired. His skill in
the toreutic art was also very remarkable; and as a chaser, engraver,
and embosser, he was among the first, if not the first, of his time.
He might be called, in a certain sense, the Cellini of Athens—vastly
superior to the celebrated Florentine in grandeur of conception, but
uniting, like him, the work of the goldsmith to that of the sculptor,
and, like him, distinguished for refinement and fastidiousness of
execution.
To this character and style there is nothing that responds in the
fragments of the Parthenon which we now possess. The style of the
figures in the pediment is broad, large, and effective, but it is
decorative in its character. The parts are classed and distributed
with skill, but they are often forced, in order to produce effect at a
distance and in the place where they were to be seen. They show the
practiced hands of men who have been trained in a grand school, but
they cannot be said to be finished with elaborate attention to details
or minute study of parts. Whatever characteristics of his style they
may have, they certainly want τò ἀκριβές, which was the distinguishing
feature of the work of Phidias.
The same remarks apply to the metopes and the frieze. It is evident
that all these works are of the same period; but in style, design, and
execution they differ from each other, as the works of various men in
the same school might be expected to differ. In grouping, composition,
treatment, and character of workmanship, the metopes are of quite
another class from the Panathenaic Procession of the frieze. Compared
with each other, the metopes are rounder and feebler in form, tamer
and more labored in treatment, and they want not only the spirit and
freedom of design of the figures in the frieze, but also their flat,
decisive, and squared execution. The frieze is very rich, varied, and
light in composition, while the metopes are comparatively monotonous
and heavy. Nor do the metopes differ more from the frieze than the
figures in the pediment do from both the frieze and the metopes. While
in execution the pediment sculpture is more flat and squared in style
than the metopes, it differs from the frieze in the treatment of the
draperies and in the proportions and character of the figures. As a
design, the figures on the pediment are disconnected, while those of
the frieze are interwoven with remarkable skill. Again, not only do
these three classes, as classes, differ from each other, but in each
class there are very decided inequalities and diversities of style and
workmanship between one part and another,—showing plainly that they
have been executed by various hands, some of more and some of less
skill. But the treatment of all is purely decorative, as it properly
should be. All of these sculptures were subordinated to the temple
which they decorated, and they were executed, not for near and minute
examination, but to produce a calculated effect in the position they
were to occupy. Fineness of workmanship, delicacy and refinement of
detail, would have been out of place and unnecessary, and evidently
were not attempted. This, however, was not the style of Phidias, who,
as we have seen, even in the colossal statues of Zeus and Athena,
elaborated to the utmost, with almost excessive labor, not only the
figures themselves, but also the least of the accessories. It was in
his nature to do this. He wished to leave the impress of all his arts
upon these splendid works; and he wrought upon them, not only as a
sculptor in the large sense of the word, but as a goldsmith, as an
engraver, a damascener, an embosser. Nothing was too rich, nothing too
large, nothing too small for him. He enjoyed it all—the minute detail
as well as the colossal mass. It was this peculiarity of his nature
that led him to select, and almost to create, the chryselephantine
school of art. He had been a painter in his youth, and his eye craved
color. The coldness of marble did not satisfy him and he rejected it,
not only for this reason, but because as a material it did not lend
itself to the art of the engraver and the goldsmith. Before his time
the colossi had been of bronze or wood. He introduced and perfected the
art of making them in ivory and gold; and it was as a maker of statues
of divinities in these materials and in bronze that he attained the
highest renown.
But abandoning the ground that these marble sculptures of the
Parthenon were _executed_ by Phidias, let us consider whether they
were _designed_ by him. Of this there is not a vestige of evidence.
It is not only not stated as a fact by any ancient writer, but not
even intimated in the most shadowy way, unless it be deduced from the
fact stated by Plutarch, that he was general superintendent of public
works, and that he had various classes of workmen under his orders.
What is meant by designing these works? Is it meant that he modeled
the designs? If this were the case, is it probable that no mention
would be made of it by any author? We are told of other cases in which
works were executed from his designs, and from the designs of other
artists. We are informed that the figures in the tympana of the temple
at Olympia were executed by Alcamenes and Pæonios; but nothing is said
about those figures in the Parthenon. Is there any necessity to suppose
these works to have been designed by Phidias? Surely not. There were
in Athens many other artists of great distinction who were fully able
to design and execute them, and among them were men but little inferior
to Phidias himself, who would not readily have accepted his designs,
and who, by profession, were sculptors in marble—not, like Phidias,
sculptors in bronze, or ivory and gold.
Among those men by whom Phidias was surrounded, and who were in
these various branches of art his rivals or his peers, may be named
Agoracritos, Alcamenes, Myron, Pæonios, Kolotes, Socrates, Praxias,
Androsthenes, Polyclitus, and Kalamis,—all sculptors in marble.
Besides these there were Hegias, Nestocles, Pythagoras, Kallimachus,
Kallon, Phradmon, Gorgias, Lacon, Kleoitas, and others of less note,
who were more specially toreutic artists and sculptors in bronze.
Here is a wonderful constellation of genius, and in it are many stars
of the first magnitude. Some of these men were peers of Phidias in
chryselephantine art. Some contended with him and won the prize over
him. Let us take a glance at some of the most eminent.
Polyclitus studied under the great Argive sculptor Ageledas, and was
a fellow-scholar with Phidias and Myron. He was the rival of Phidias
in his chryselephantine works, and but little if at all inferior to
him in his best works. He created the type of Hera, as Phidias did
that of Athena; and his colossal statue of that goddess in ivory and
gold at Argos was admitted to be unsurpassed even by the Athena of the
Parthenon. Strabo asserts that though inferior in size and nobleness to
the Athena and Zeus of Phidias, it equaled them in beauty, and in its
artistic execution excelled them (τῇ μὲν τέχνῃ κάλλιστα τῶν πάντων).
Dionysius of Halicarnassus accords to him, as to Phidias, τὸ σεμνὸν
καὶ μεγαλότεχνον καὶ ἀξιωματικόν—the character of grandeur, dignity,
and harmony of parts. Xenophon places him beside Homer, Sophocles, and
Zeuxis as an artist. Among his bronze works, the most celebrated were
the Diadumenos and the Doryphoros, the latter of which was called the
Canon, on account of its beauty and perfection of proportion. If to
Phidias was accorded the highest praise as the sculptor of divinities,
Polyclitus was considered his superior in his statues of men.
Nor was it only as a sculptor in bronze, gold, and ivory, that he was
distinguished. He was celebrated also for his marble statues, among
which may be mentioned the Apollo, Leto, and Artemis in the Temple
of Artemis, and the Orthia in Argolis; as well as for his skill in
the toreutic art. In this last art he excelled all others; and Pliny
says of him that he developed and perfected it as Phidias had begun
it—“toreuticen sic erudisse ut Phidias aperuisse.”
Myron, his fellow-scholar, had scarcely a less reputation, though in a
different way. He devoted himself to the representation of athletes,
among which the most celebrated was the Discobolos; of animals,
of which his Cow was the most famous; and of groups of satyrs, and
sea-monsters, and mythical creatures. He excelled in the representation
of life, action, and expression; and such was his skill, that Petronius
says of him that he almost expressed the souls of men and animals in
his bronzes.
Agoracritos and Alcamenes had a still higher distinction than Myron.
The famous Aphrodite of the Gardens (ἐν κήποις), a marble statue by
Alcamenes, enjoyed a reputation among the ancients scarcely if at
all below that of the Aphrodite of Praxiteles. Pliny, writing five
hundred years after, says that Phidias “_is said_ to have given the
finishing touches to this statue.” But this is one of those common and
absurd traditions that attach to the work of almost every great artist
long after his death, and it may be dismissed at once. Lucian gives
the statue directly and solely to Alcamenes—and to him undoubtedly
it belongs. He had no need of the help of Phidias, being himself a
much more accomplished worker in marble, even should we grant that
Phidias ever worked at all in this material. Indeed, it was specially
as a sculptor in marble that he was distinguished; and among other
works which he executed in this material were the colossal statues of
Hercules and Minerva, a group of Procne and Itys, and the statue of
Æsculapius. But what is the more significant in this connection is the
fact, stated by Pausanias, that it was he who executed the statues
representing the Centaurs and Lapithæ at the marriage of Pirithous,
which adorned the back tympanum of the Temple of Zeus at Olympia, where
the great Zeus of Phidias stood. Pausanias speaks of him as an artist
“who lived in the age of Phidias, and was the next to him in the art of
making statues.”
Agoracritos is called by Pausanias “the pupil and beloved friend of
Phidias,” and it is most probable that he worked with him on the Athena
and the Zeus. His most famous statue was the Nemesis at Rhamnus, which,
as we have seen, is attributed to Phidias by Pausanias, but which
clearly belongs to Agoracritos. The statue of the Mother of the Gods,
which Arrian and Pausanias give to Phidias, was also made by him,
according to Pliny.
Kolotes, who was also a pupil and assistant of Phidias at one time,
was a sculptor in marble as well as a celebrated artist in ivory and
gold. Among other works, he probably made a statue in gold and ivory of
Athena at Elis, which Pausanias attributes to Phidias, but which Pliny
asserts to be by Kolotes. There is no dispute that he made the statue
of Asclepius in gold and ivory, which is much praised by Strabo; and
he is said by Pliny to have assisted Phidias in the Zeus, and to have
executed the interior of the shield of the Athena at Elis, which was
painted by Panæus.
Pæonios, a Thracian by birth, was a celebrated sculptor in marble as
well as bronze; and, among other things, he executed the figures in
the front tympanum of the Temple of Zeus at Olympia. In character and
composition these figures resemble those of the Parthenon, and they are
executed in the same spirit. A fragment from the Temple of Zeus may be
seen in the Louvre, standing beside a fragment of one of the metopes of
the Parthenon. The fragment from the Temple of Zeus represents Heracles
with the Bull. It is fuller and larger in style than the fragment
from the Parthenon, which, seen beside it, looks stiff and meagre in
character, and the body of the Centaur in the one is decidedly inferior
to the body of the Bull in the other. This is probably a portion of the
work of Pæonios.
Praxias and Androsthenes, too, worked in marble in the same style,
and the figures in the tympana of the Delphic temple were executed by
them. The metopes also, of which five are alluded to in the Chorus of
Euripides, were probably their work.
Theocosmos, too, a contemporary of Phidias, worked with him, according
to Pausanias, on the Zeus at Megara, which was afterwards left
unfinished, on account of the Peloponnesian war: only the head was of
ivory and gold, the rest of the body being of plastic clay and wood.
But perhaps the most distinguished of all was Kalamis, who, though
probably a little younger than Phidias, was certainly a contemporary.
Among other works, he executed in bronze an Apollo Alexicacos; a
chariot in honor of Hiero’s Victory at Olympia; a marble Apollo in the
Servilian Gardens in Rome; another bronze Apollo thirty cubits high,
which Lucullus carried to Rome from Apollonia; a beardless Asclepius in
gold and ivory; a Nike; Zeus Ammon; Dionysos; Aphrodite; Alcmena; and
the famous Sosandra, so praised by Lucian. But what in this connection
is peculiarly to be noticed is, that, besides being renowned for
his statues of gods and mortals, he was celebrated for his skill in
the representation of animals; and the excellence of his horses is
specially spoken of by Ovid, Cicero, Pausanias, Propertius, and Pliny.
It would therefore, in this view, seem much more probable that he may
have designed the Panathenaic frieze than that it was designed by
Phidias, who, as far as we know, had no particular talent for horses
or animals. There is no indication, however, that either of them had
anything to do with it.
It is useless to proceed further in this direction. Here were men,
specially marble workers, who were amply able to execute all the marble
figures of the Parthenon, without recourse to Phidias; and as there
is no indication that he ever anywhere executed similar works for any
temple, while at least Alcamenes and Pæonios are known to have made the
works corresponding to these in the Temple of Zeus, there would seem to
be far more reason to attribute these figures to them than to Phidias,
who, at the time when they were made, was too much occupied with his
other work to have been able to execute them himself.
In the absence, then, of all clear indications as to the artist who
made the marble sculptures of the Parthenon, it would seem more
probable that they were executed by various hands, and in like
manner as those of the Erechtheum, built in the 93d Olympiad, about
twenty-eight years after the building of the Parthenon. Fortunately,
from the discovery of certain fragments on which the accounts of the
building of the Erechtheum were inscribed at the time, we are enabled
to say how these reliefs were made. Portions were set off to different
artists, each of whom executed his part, as described in these
fragments. The names of the artists were Agathenor, Iasos, Phyromachos,
Praxias, and Loclos. The inscription begins thus—I give only a fragment
of it—Τὸν παῖδα τὸν τὸ δόρυ ἔχοντα [Δ Δ. Φυρόμαχος Κηφισιεὺς τὸν
νεανίσκον τὸν παρὰ τὸν θώρακα ΓΔ. Πραχσίας ἐμ Μελίτῃ οἱκῶν τὸν ἵππον
καὶ τὸν ὀπισθοφανῆ τὸν παρακρούοντα ΗΔΔ]; and so on. The sign ΓΔ occurs
four times in the inscription. Three times the work is by Phyromachos,
and belongs apparently to the same group.[5]
Here we have names of artists who are unknown to us, unless the
Phyromachos named here is the same who, according to Pliny, made
Alcibiades in a chariot with four horses. And as for Praxias, he
cannot be the well-known Praxias, since he in all probability died
before the 92d Olympiad. If, then, these sculptures were intrusted to
artists whose very names have not come down to us, is it not probable
that the decorative sculptures of the Parthenon would have been
confided to artists of the same class? In such case it would seem most
natural that no mention would be made of them, more than of the artists
who worked on the Erechtheum, since they were persons of no peculiar
note and fame; while in the Temple of Zeus, inasmuch as artists of
distinction worked, their names are given. Why tell us that Alcamenes
and Pæonios made the groups in the tympana at Olympia, and omit to say
anything about similar works in the Parthenon, if they were executed by
Phidias or any other artist of great distinction?
Here, too, we see that different portions of the same work were
assigned to different artists, each working out his subjects
separately, though all working in agreement, to develop a certain story
or series of stories. Such a practice would account for all sorts of
varieties of design and execution, and would explain the differences
to be observed between the various portions of the sculptures of the
Parthenon.
A careful examination of the frieze alone shows that it must have been
executed by various artists, so distinct are the different parts as
well in execution as in design.
The notion commonly entertained, that Phidias was considered in his
age to be vastly superior to all contemporary sculptors, will scarcely
bear examination. He undoubtedly surpassed them all in his colossal
chryselephantine statues of divinities; though even in this branch
of art there was a difference of opinion, and one other artist at
least, Polyclitus, was held, in his statue of Hera, to have stood
abreast of him. Strabo declares that it excelled in beauty all the
works of Phidias. But in other branches of the art the superiority of
Phidias was not admitted; and he was, if report be true, repeatedly
adjudged a second place in his competitions with his rivals. Alcamenes,
Polyclitus, Kalamis, and Ctesilaus were his superiors in their marble
statues and representations of mortals, and we hear of no work of his
in marble to compete with theirs. Lucian, for instance, in his Dialogue
on Statues, praises equally the Venus of Praxiteles, the Sosandra of
Kalamis, the Aphrodite of the Gardens by Alcamenes, and the Athena
Lemnia and Amazon of Phidias; and out of the special beauties of each
he reconstructs an ideal image of the most beautiful woman. From the
Cnidian Aphrodite of Praxiteles he takes the head, having no need of
the rest of the body (he says), as the figure is not to be nude; and
from this head he selects the outlines of the hair, or rather the
outline of the forehead where it joins the hair, the forehead, the
delicately penciled eyebrows, and the liquid and radiant charm of the
eyes. From the Aphrodite of Alcamenes he takes the cheeks and the
lower part of the face, and especially the base of the hands, the
beautifully proportioned wrists, and the flexile taper fingers. From
Phidias he takes the total contour of the face, the softness of the
jaw, and the symmetrical nose of the Athena, and the lips and the
neck of the Amazon. From the Sosandra of Kalamis he takes her modest
grace and her delicate subtle smile, her chastely arranged dress and
her easy bearing. Her age and stature, he says, shall be that of the
Cnidian Aphrodite, for this is most beautiful in Praxiteles. For her
other qualities he draws upon the painters. This opinion of Lucian
is particularly interesting and valuable, from the fact that he had
studied and practiced the art of sculpture under his uncle, who was a
sculptor, and his judgment is therefore of far more value than that of
an ordinary connoisseur.
Pliny also relates a story which has a bearing in this connection, of a
competition between various celebrated artists, who were contemporaries
at this period. The subject was an Amazon. The artists themselves were
to be the judges; and it was agreed that the statue should be held to
be best which each artist ranked second to his own. The result was that
the first prize was adjudged to Polyclitus, the second to Phidias, the
third to Ctesilaus, the fourth to Cydon, and the fifth to Phradmon. We
may reject the story as a fact, but its very existence proves that the
fame of Phidias, great as it was, did not so entirely eclipse that of
other artists of his time as we generally suppose. Who of us now would
think that Phradmon and Cydon, for example, stood on a level to contend
with him, with any chance of other than a disastrous defeat? But it is
plain that the ancients did not think so, or this story would not have
been invented.
We now come to the question whether Phidias ever worked at all in
marble. His renown undoubtedly rested upon his magnificent statues
in ivory and gold, and especially upon his Zeus and Athena of the
Parthenon, which towered above all his other works. So wonderful was
the Zeus, that it was said to have strengthened religion in Greece; and
the Athena of the Parthenon was held to be the glory of Athens. The
poets and writers celebrate Phidias always as specially the creator of
these great chryselephantine works; and though they praise the beauty
of his bronze works, and especially of the Athena Lemnia, it is plain
that these held a secondary place in public estimation, or at all
events did not stand alone and apart as the others did. Thus Propertius
says, characterizing the sculptors:—
“Phidiacus signo se Juppiter ornat eburno;
Praxitelem propria vindicat arte Lapis;
Gloria Lysippi est animosa effingere signa;
Exactis Calamis se mihi jactat equis.”
So Quinctilian says of him: “Phidias tamen diis quam hominibus
efficiendis melior artifex traditur—in ebore vero longe citra
æmulum, vel si nihil nisi Minervam Athenis aut Olympium in Elide
Jovem fecisset” (lib. xii. ch. 10). But no writer anywhere near this
period—even within five centuries of it—ever mentions a marble figure
by Phidias, or celebrates him in any way as a sculptor in this material.
In the evidence given before a committee of the House of Commons
upon the Elgin collection of marbles, previous to the purchase of
them by the nation, Richard Payne Knight and William Wilkins gave
it as their opinion that these works were not by Phidias, and that
he was not a worker in marble. This statement has been rejected by
the author of the work on the Elgin and Phigaleian Marbles, in the
Library of Entertaining Knowledge, as entirely without foundation.
In this conclusion it must be admitted that he follows the opinion
generally entertained at the present day, and repeated by nearly every
modern writer. Visconti, to whom he refers as refuting satisfactorily
the notion of Knight and Wilkins, thus argues the question: “If it
were imagined that Phidias devoted himself to the toreutic art, and
that he employed in his works only ivory and metals, this opinion
would be confuted by Aristotle, who distinguishes this great artist
by the appellation of σοφὸς λιθουργός—a skillful sculptor in
marble—in opposition to Polyclitus, whom he styles simply a statuary,
ἀνδριαντοποιός, since the latter scarcely ever employed his talents
except in bronze. In fact, several marble statues of Phidias were
known to Pliny, who might even have seen some of them at Rome, since
they had been removed to this city; and the most famous work of
Alcamenes, the Venus of the Gardens, had only, as it was said, acquired
so high a degree of perfection because Phidias, his master, had himself
taken pleasure in finishing with his own hand his beautiful statue in
marble.”
An examination into these statements will show, not only that not one
of them is well founded, but that the authorities on which they profess
to stand will not at all sustain them. Visconti’s mind is in a nebulous
state as to the whole question, and he confounds things which have no
relation to each other. The first mistake he makes is in confusing the
toreutic art with the art of making statues in ivory and gold. I am
aware that M. Quatremere de Quincy, in his treatise on chryselephantine
statues, constantly uses these two terms as equivalent; but in so
doing he is admitted by all persons who have critically studied the
matter to be entirely incorrect. The toreutic art was the art of
the engraver, the chaser, the damascener, the embosser. It might be
employed, and undoubtedly was employed, by Phidias in decorating
part of his statue, as it might be applied to a bronze statue, or to
any metal surface or slab; but it was not the art of making statues
in any material. Visconti’s next proposition is, that by the term
σοφὸς λιθουργός Aristotle meant to indicate a worker in marble as
distinguished from an ἀνδριαντοποιός, who was a statuary in bronze,
and to show that Phidias worked in marble, while Polyclitus worked only
or chiefly in bronze. Neither of these statements can be supported; and
it is impossible that Aristotle could have meant to make them. In the
first place, λιθουργός does not mean a worker in marble; λιθουργική
and λιθοτριβική were specially the art of cutting and polishing gems
and precious stones; and a λιθουργός was a lapidary in relief or
intaglio,[6] not a sculptor of marble statues. Again, ἀνδριαντοποιός
does not mean a sculptor in bronze as distinguished from a sculptor in
marble, but merely a maker of statues, of athletes or heroes, in any
material, whether in wood, bronze, marble, gold, or ivory.
Now, when we remember that Phidias was celebrated not only for his
colossal works, but also for his skill as an engraver, embosser, and
damascener—in a word, for his skill in the toreutic art, which Pliny
tells us was developed by him and perfected by Polyclitus, as well as
for his minutely elaborated representations of flies, cicadæ, fishes,
and bees—the meaning of Aristotle in applying to him the title of
λιθουργός is clear. He was a λιθουργός in the exact meaning of that
term, and a very skillful one. Aristotle is equally correct in applying
the term ἀνδριαντοποιός, maker of athletes and heroes, to Polyclitus;
for that great artist had won the highest fame of his age for statues
of this kind, and established the laws of proportion in his Diadumenos
and Doryphoros. If, however, as Visconti imagines, Aristotle meant to
indicate that Phidias was a worker in marble, while Polyclitus was
not, he is clearly wrong; for we know that Polyclitus executed various
and celebrated statues in marble, whereas, as we shall see, we have no
clear proof that Phidias ever did. Still further, if Aristotle intended
to distinguish Phidias from Polyclitus by saying that the one was a
skillful λιθουργός, and the other was not, he is again quite wrong,
whether he meant by that term to indicate a toreutic artist or, as
Visconti thinks, a marble worker; for Polyclitus was even more skilled
than Phidias in both these arts. Again, if he meant to distinguish
the one artist from the other as a maker of ἀγάλματα, or statues of
divinities, he is wrong; for the chryselephantine Hera of Polyclitus
rivaled the Athena of Phidias. The plain fact is that Aristotle did not
mean to distinguish one of these great artists from the other in any
such way. He is perfectly right in the terms he applies to each; but he
did not say, nor could he have intended to say, that one was a σοφὸς
λιθουργός or an ἀνδριαντοποιός, and the other was not—since, as we
know, both of them were λιθουργοί and ἀνδριαντοποιοί, and he must have
known it.
Stress has also been laid by some writers on the fact that Phidias
is called a γλυφεύς by Dionysius of Halicarnassus, and that Tzetzes
speaks of him as ἀνδριάντας χαλκουργῶν καὶ γλύφων τε καὶ ξέων, and
that Hesychius uses the phrase Φειδίαι λιθοξόοι. These phrases, even
were they inconsistent with the view here taken, would be of very
little consequence if standing by themselves, as the earliest of these
writers flourished some six hundred years, and the latest some nine
hundred years, after Phidias; but taken in connection with the words
of Aristotle, they may perhaps have some little weight. What is a
γλυφεύς, then? Why, simply an engraver and a chiseler. And what does
Tzetzes mean by ἀνδριάντας χαλκουργῶν καὶ γλύφων τε καὶ ξέων? Why,
that Phidias made statues of heroes and athletes in brass, and that
he was a chiseler and engraver. The words γλυφή and γλαφή in Greek,
and _scalptura_ and _sculptura_ in Latin, though originally they
signified generically cutting figures out of every solid material, were
afterwards specifically applied to intagli and camei, and are the art
of the cœlator, or τορευτής, or more properly, perhaps, restricted to
the cutting and engraving of precious stones.
The next statement of Visconti is that several marble statues by
Phidias were known to Pliny, and that the Aphrodite of Alcamenes
acquired its perfection because Phidias himself finished it. As to
the latter branch of this statement nothing more need be said. It is
evidently one of those idle traditions which are not worth considering.
But let us see what Pliny actually says. In his account of Phidias he
does not even pretend to state, as an accredited fact, that Phidias
ever worked in marble. In the chapter devoted to sculptors in marble he
says, “_It is said_, that _even_ Phidias worked in marble” (et ipsum
Phidiam _tradunt_ scalpsisse marmora) “and that there is a Venus by
him at Rome, in the buildings of Octavia, of extraordinary beauty; but
_what is certain is_” (quod certum est) “that he was the master of
Alcamenes, many of whose works are on the sacred temples, and whose
celebrated Venus, called ἐν κήποις, is outside the walls. Phidias _is
said_” (dicitur) “to have put the finishing touches to this.” Pliny,
therefore, by no means asserts that Phidias ever executed anything
in marble; he merely says that there is a rumor or tradition to that
effect; but he absolutely states as an established fact that Alcamenes
was his pupil, and executed the beautiful statue of Aphrodite; and he
then goes on to say, as another tradition, that Phidias assisted him in
finishing it. Here he clearly distinguishes between fact and tradition,
and his language shows that he placed no reliance on the latter. He
does not even pretend to have seen the statue of Venus, supposed to be
by Phidias, in the buildings of Octavia; and it is evident, from the
turn of his sentence, that, gossiping and credulous as he generally
was, he gave no credence to this rumor.
The whole argument of Visconti thus falls to the ground with the facts
by which he attempts to support it.
There remain for us to consider the marble statues ascribed to Phidias
by Pausanias, which are as follows: 1st, The Nemesis at Rhamnus; 2d,
The Hermes at the entrance of the Ismenium at Thebes; 3d, The Aphrodite
Urania at Athens, near the Ceramicus.
We have already seen that the Nemesis at Rhamnus was not the work
of Phidias, but of Agoracritos; that Pausanias disagrees with other
authorities in attributing it to Phidias; and that the name of
Agoracritos was inscribed upon it as its author. This, therefore, must
be rejected.
In the next place, as to the marble Hermes at the entrance to the
Ismenium. This statue, as we have seen, was a decorative entrance
statue standing before the temple; and its pendant, Athena, according
to Pausanias, was the work of Scopas, who died a century later. The one
pedestal could scarcely be left unoccupied for a century, yet this must
have been the case if Pausanias is right; and for reasons which have
already been given, this statue is, to say the least, not without very
grave doubts. No other author speaks of it, and it rests solely on the
authority of Pausanias, who lived more than six centuries after Phidias.
There remains, then, the Aphrodite Urania. Pausanias is the sole
authority for considering this statue the work of Phidias; and as,
being in marble, it would be the only one ascribed to him upon which
there are not either the gravest doubts as to his authorship or the
clearest indications that he was not the author, we should accept
it with caution. Can we trust Pausanias? He certainly does not agree
with other writers as to the authorship of various statues. The statue
of Athena at Elis, attributed by him to Phidias, Pliny says is by
Kolotes. The Mother of the Gods, said by him to be a work of Phidias,
is, according to Pliny, the work of Agoracritos. The Æsculapius at
Epidaurus, given by him to Thrasymedes, is given by Athenagoras to
Phidias. In respect of the Nemesis, he is clearly mistaken. Pausanias
wrote long after Pliny, when facts were still more obscured by time.
Tradition changes names; transmutes facts, and tends always to give
great names to nameless works. He was a traveler in Greece in the age
of Marcus Aurelius, when the arts, even in Rome, were in their decline;
and he only reports what he sees and hears. He does not pretend to be
a critic or a connoisseur in art. He was not one; and his accounts of
the great statues in Greece are singularly dry and meagre. He would
naturally be told who was the author of this, that, and the other
statue that he saw; and he seems to have taken common report without
a question, just as a traveler in Rome without particular knowledge
or interest in art would accept the authorship of the Colossi in the
Quirinal, and without hesitation follow the tradition and ascribe them
in his book to Phidias and Praxiteles. If he were always accurate in
these matters, or if he had ever shown any critical doubts about the
authorship of any work, a statement by him on such a subject would
be entitled to more consideration; but as it is, in view of the facts
that no other author before him has ascribed the Aphrodite Urania
to Phidias, and that if it be by him it is his only marble work of
which we have any clear testimony, little faith can be placed in the
statement by Pausanias. Add to this that no contemporary of Phidias,
and no writer anywhere near his age, has ever spoken of any marble work
of his, and I think we must reject this statue as we have rejected the
others.
In estimating the value of any such statements as to the authorship of
statues, we must keep in mind the fact that it was not only not the
custom for the ancient Greek sculptors to inscribe their names on their
own statues, but it was not ordinarily permitted to them to do so on
any public work; and undoubtedly it was for this reason that Phidias
himself made his own likeness as well as the portrait of Pericles on
the shield of the Athena, to indicate that the work was done by him
while Pericles had the administration of affairs at Athens. In the
same way Batrachus and Saurus, two Lacedæmonian artists who built the
temples inclosed in the Portico of Octavia, being prohibited from
inscribing their names on the walls, adopted the device of sculpturing
on the spirals of the columns a lizard and a frog, which their names
signified,—thus punning in marble, to perpetuate their names as
architects of the temples. So also Myron is said to have inscribed
his name on the thigh of his Discobolos in such minute characters as
to be visible only on the closest inspection. In the case of some of
the great statues, the names of the authors were exceptionally allowed
to be inscribed after their deaths; and this was probably the case
with the Zeus of Phidias. Ordinarily no such practice was permitted.
Such being the case, the authorship of Greek statues at the time of
Pausanias would rest entirely upon tradition—and tradition is little to
be trusted.
Besides, what adds to the difficulty is that it was the custom in later
times to put the names of ancient sculptors on works not made by them,
to give them a higher value; it is of this practice that Phædrus speaks
in one of his Fables:—
“Æsopi nomen sicubi interposuero
Cui reddidi jampridem quidquid debui
Auctoritatis esse scito gratia;
Ut quidem artifices nostro faciunt sæculo
Qui pretium operibus majus inveniunt, novo
Si marmore adscripsere Praxitelem suo
Trito Myronem argento.”
Of the statues which now exist, there are only some thirty on which
names are inscribed, and these are certainly for the most part, if
not entirely, apocryphal. The name of Phidias, together with that of
Ammonius, for instance, appears on a monkey in basalt in the Capitol at
Rome; that of Praxiteles on a draped figure in the Louvre; and that of
Lysippus on a marble Hercules in the Pitti Gallery at Florence—not one
of which is of the least value as a work of art. So, on the torso of
the Belvidere is the name of Apollonius; on the Farnese Hercules that
of Glycon; on the Gladiator of the Louvre that of Agasias the Ephesian,
son of Dositheos—though these names are not mentioned by any writers
of antiquity. No authority can be granted to these inscriptions, and
possibly the very fact that these names are on the statues is an
indication that they are copies; all have ἐποίει. D’Hancarville and
Dallaway make a distinction between ἐποίει and ἐποίησεν,—the former,
according to them, signifying a copy, and the latter an original work.
On the Nemesis at Rhamnus was the inscription, ΑΓΟΡΑΚΡΙΤΟΣ ΠΑΡΙΟΣ
ΕΠΟΙΗΣΕΝ; and this would seem to confirm their notion. On the Zeus of
Phidias, also, was the inscription, ΦΕΙΔΙΑΣ ΧΑΡΜΙΔΟΥ ΥΙΟΣ ΑΘΗΝΑΙΟΣ Μ’
ΕΠΟΙΗΣΕΝ.
I do not recall, however, a single statue which has come down to us
on which the word ἐποίησεν occurs, except an interesting and coarsely
executed relief in the British Museum, representing the deification
of Homer. Where there is any inscription it is ἐποίει; but it is an
exceedingly rare exception that any ancient statue has a name inscribed
on it. Almost all, if not all, the statues having names of the artists
are of a late date, and probably most of them as late as the time of
Hadrian. It was he who revived the art of sculpture; and during his
reign a great number of copies, more or less good, were made of the
famous statues of antiquity; but unfortunately there has not come
down to us a single accredited statue by any of the great sculptors of
antiquity.
There are only two other authorities, so far as I am aware, who
mention or make any allusion to marble work by Phidias; these must
be considered. Seneca, nearly five hundred years after the death
of Phidias, says of him, “Not only did Phidias know how to make a
statue in ivory, but he also made them in bronze.” Thus far he speaks
absolutely; he then continues hypothetically, “If you had given him
marble, or even a viler material, he would have made the best thing
out of it that could be made.”[7] This is considered by the author of
the work on the Elgin and Phigaleian Marbles an important statement
in confirmation of Pliny. In reality it contains nothing but a simple
hypothetical expression of belief that if you had given Phidias a
piece of marble he would have made something excellent out of it.
Does any one doubt this? Seneca states as a fact only that Phidias
really _did_ work in ivory and bronze; and it is plain that he knew no
work of Phidias in marble, or he never would have expressed a purely
hypothetical opinion on such a matter.
The other authority which has been evoked in favor of the theory that
Phidias worked in marble is that of Valerius Maximus, who states that
there existed a tradition that he desired to execute the Athena of the
Parthenon in marble, but that the Athenians would not permit him to
do so: “Iidem Phidiam _tulerunt_ quamdiu is marmore potius quam ebore
Minervam fieri debere dicebat, quod diutius nitor esset mansurus; sed
ut adjecit et vilius tacere jusserunt.” (Lib. i. c. i., Externa 7.)
There is no authority for this tradition. It comes up five hundred
years after the death of Phidias, and is manifestly absurd. Phidias
had identified himself and his fame with his great chryselephantine
and bronze works. He knew too well his own power, and his mastery over
these arts, to wish to make the Athena in any other material than that
in which it was made. But suppose he did so advise the Athenians, his
advice was not accepted. The statue was not made of marble. Perhaps
also he proposed to them to give it to Alcamenes, Agoracritos, or
Polyclitus. What sort of value can be given to a statement like this
appearing suddenly and solely in one writer five hundred years after
the Athena was made? If we are to accept such traditions as this, we
may as well “gape and swallow” any _gobemouche_. Let us have at once a
life of Shakespeare written in Leipzig, or any other foreign country at
least as far away as that.
This is all the testimony we have as to any work by Phidias in marble.
Has it any real weight? But grant all these statements, vague and
visionary as they are, to their fullest extent, what do they prove?
Not that Phidias was especially a marble-worker, but only that he made,
exceptionally, one or two statues in marble, and was supposed by some
writers five hundred years after his death, to have had a connection
with two more, though other testimony, and the facts and dates, clearly
show that he could not have made them, or at least throw the very
gravest doubts upon his having done so. In this way, we might assert
that Raffaelle was a sculptor, because he is supposed to have made, or
helped to make, the statue of Jonah in the Santa Maria del Popolo at
Rome. But to jump from such shaky facts to the statement and belief
that Phidias was the author, or at all events the designer, of all the
marble figures in the pediment, theme topes, and the frieze of the
Parthenon, is truly “a long cry.” Where is the ground on which such a
belief can be founded? There is not a statement or even an allusion by
any ancient writer to justify it. The testimony of Plutarch, so far
as it goes, is directly opposed to it, and all the known facts are in
contradiction of it.
Plutarch says that Phidias was appointed general superintendent of
public works; that he made the statue of Athena in the Parthenon; and
that, through the friendship of Pericles, he had the direction of
everything, and all the artists received his orders. But he contradicts
this immediately, if he is understood to mean anything more than that
Phidias generally ordered who should be employed to do this or that
work; for he distinctly says that Ictinus and Callicrates made the
Parthenon,—and we know that Ictinus and Carpion wrote a book upon it.
If Phidias designed or executed anything else than the Athena, why does
not Plutarch say so, when he takes pains to tell us he made the Athena?
The mention of the one excludes the other. If Ictinus and Callicrates
made the building, why may they not have made all the rest of the work?
Were they not able to do it? There is no reason to doubt their ability
to design and execute all the decorative figures belonging to the
temple they built. To Ictinus was intrusted the building of the Temple
of Apollo at Phigaleia, in the sculptures of which there is shown
remarkable ability; and he also built the Temple of the Eleusinian
Ceres, and its mystic inclosure or Secos. If Ictinus and Callicrates,
or Carpion, did not execute these marbles of the Parthenon, why may
they not have intrusted them to some of the numerous artists with whom
Athens swarmed at that time? Libon the architect built the temple of
Zeus in which the Zeus of Phidias stood, and its pediment figures were
sculptured by Alcamenes and Pæonios. Is there any reason to reject such
a theory? However, as to this we are entirely in the dark; all our
suppositions are purely speculative. Nothing seems clear, except that
the figures were not made by Phidias.
Why did not Plutarch tell us who were the sculptors of the marbles
in the Parthenon? Probably for the very simple reason that he did
not know. He wrote many centuries after Phidias was dead (about
B. C. 66), and tradition may not have brought down the names of any
who were concerned in the building of the Parthenon, save those of
the architects and of Phidias. He did not attempt to supply the
hiatus—being, to use his own words, convinced “of the difficulty of
arriving at any truth in history: since if the writers live after the
events they relate, they can but be imperfectly informed of facts;
and if they describe the persons and transactions of their own times,
they are tempted by envy and hatred, or by interest and friendship, to
vitiate and pervert the truth.”