THE TRANSITIONAL PERIOD OF GREEK SCULPTURE. 480-450 B. C.
The term "Transitional period" is rather meaningless in itself,
but has acquired considerable currency as denoting that stage in
the history of Greek art in which the last steps were taken toward
perfect freedom of style. It is convenient to reckon this period
as extending from the year of the Persian invasion of Greece under
Xerxes to the middle of the century. In the artistic as in the
political history of this generation Athens held a position of
commanding importance, while Sparta, the political rival of
Athens, was as barren of art as of literature. The other principal
artistic center was Argos, whose school of sculpture had been and
was destined long to be widely influential. As for other local
schools, the question of their centers and mutual relations is too
perplexing and uncertain to be here discussed.
In the two preceding chapters we studied only original works, but
from this time on we shall have to pay a good deal of attention to
copies (cf. pages 114-16). We begin with two statues in Naples
(Fig. 101). The story of this group--for the two statues were
designed as a group--is interesting. The two friends, Harmodius
and Aristogiton, who in 514 had formed a conspiracy to rid Athens
of her tyrants, but who had succeeded only in killing one of them,
came to be regarded after the expulsion of the remaining tyrant
and his family in 510 as the liberators of the city. Their statues
in bronze, the work of Antenor, were set up on a terrace above the
market-place (cf. pages 124, 149). In 480 this group was carried
off to Persia by Xerxes and there it remained for a hundred and
fifty years or more when it was restored to Athens by Alexander
the Great or one of his successors. Athens however had as promptly
as possible repaired her loss. Critius and Nesiotes, two sculptors
who worked habitually in partnership, were commissioned to make a
second group, and this was set up in 477-6 on the same terrace
where the first had been After the restoration of Antenor's
statues toward the end of the fourth century the two groups stood
side by side.
It was argued by a German archaeologist more than a generation ago
that the two marble statues shown in Fig. 101 are copied from one
of these bronze groups, and this identification has been all but
universally accepted. The proof may be stated briefly, as follows.
First several Athenian objects of various dates, from the fifth
century B.C. onward, bear a design to which the Naples statues
clearly correspond One of these is a relief on a marble throne
formerly in Athens. Our illustration of this (Fig. 102) is taken
from a "squeeze," or wet paper impression. This must then, have
been an important group in Athens. Secondly, the style of the
Naples statues points to a bronze original of the early fifth
century. Thirdly, the attitudes of the figures are suitable for
Harmodius and Aristogiton, and we do not know of any other group
of that period for which they are suitable. This proof, though not
quite as complete as we should like, is as good as we generally
get in these matters. The only question that remains in serious
doubt is whether our copies go back to the work of Antenor or to
that of Critius and Nesiotes. Opinions have been much divided on
this point but the prevailing tendency now is to connect them with
the later artists. That is the view here adopted
In studying the two statues it is important to recognize the work
of the modern "restorer." The figure of Aristogiton (the one on
your left as you face the group) having been found in a headless
condition, the restorer provided it with a head, which is antique,
to be sure, but which is outrageously out of keeping, being of the
style of a century later. The chief modern portions are the left
hand of Aristogiton and the arms, right leg, and lower part of the
left leg of Harmodius. As may be learned from the small copies,
Aristogiton should be bearded, and the right arm of Harmodius
should be in the act of being raised to bring down a stroke of the
sword upon his antagonist. We have, then, to correct in
imagination the restorer's misdoings, and also to omit the tree-
trunk supports, which the bronze originals did not need. Further,
the two figures should probably be advancing in the same
direction, instead of in converging lines.
When these changes are made, the group cannot fail to command our
admiration. It would be a mistake to fix our attention exclusively
on the head of Harmodius. Seen in front view, the face, with its
low forehead and heavy chin, looks dull, if not ignoble. But the
bodies! In complete disregard of historic truth, the two men are
represented in a state of ideal nudity, like the Aeginetan
figures. The anatomy is carefully studied, the attitudes lifelike
and vigorous. Finally, the composition is fairly successful. This
is the earliest example preserved to us of a group of sculpture
other than a pediment-group. The interlocking of the figures is
not yet so close as it was destined to be in many a more advanced
piece of Greek statuary. But already the figures are not merely
juxtaposed; they share in a common action, and each is needed to
complete the other.
Of about the same date, it would seem, or not much later, must
have been a lost bronze statue, whose fame is attested by the
existence of several marble copies. The best of these was found in
1862, in the course of excavating the great theater on the
southern slope of the Athenian Acropolis (Fig. 103). The naming of
this figure is doubtful. It has been commonly taken for Apollo,
while another view sees in it a pugilist. Recently the suggestion
has been thrown out that it is Heracles. Be that as it may, the
figure is a fine example of youthful strength and beauty. In pose
it shows a decided advance upon the Strangford "Apollo" (Fig.
100). The left leg is still slightly advanced, and both feet were
planted flat on the ground; but more than half the weight of the
body is thrown upon the right leg, with the result of giving a
slight curve to the trunk, and the head is turned to one side. The
upper part of the body is very powerful, the shoulders broad and
held well back, the chest prominently developed. The face, in
spite of its injuries, is one of singular refinement and
sweetness. The long hair is arranged in two braids, as in Fig. 96,
the only difference being that here the braids pass over instead
of under the fringe of front hair. The rendering of the hair is in
a freer style than in the case just cited, but of this difference
a part may be chargeable to the copyist. Altogether we see here
the stamp of an artistic manner very different from that of
Critius and Nesiotes. Possibly, as some have conjectured, it is
the manner of Calamis, an Attic sculptor of this period, whose
eminence at any rate entitles him to a passing mention. But even
the Attic origin of this statue is in dispute.
We now reach a name of commanding importance, and one with which
we are fortunately able to associate some definite ideas. It is
the name of Myron of Athens, who ranks among the six most
illustrious sculptors of Greece. It is worth remarking, as an
illustration of the scantiness of our knowledge regarding the
lives of Greek artists, that Myron's name is not so much as
mentioned in extant literature before the third century B.C.
Except for a precise, but certainly false, notice in Pliny, who
represents him as flourishing in 420-416, our literary sources
yield only vague indications as to his date. These indications,
such as they are, point to the "Transitional period." This
inference is strengthened by the recent discovery on the Athenian
Acropolis of a pair of pedestals inscribed with the name of
Myron's son and probably datable about 446. Finally, the argument
is clinched by the style of Myron's most certainly identifiable
work.
Pliny makes Myron the pupil of an influential Argive master,
Ageladas, who belongs in the late archaic period. Whether or not
such a relation actually existed, the statement is useful as a
reminder of the probability that Argos and Athens were
artistically in touch with one another. Beyond this, we get no
direct testimony as to the circumstances of Myron's life. We can
only infer that his genius was widely recognized in his lifetime,
seeing that commissions came to him, not from Athens only, but
also from other cities of Greece proper, as well as from distant
Samos and Ephesus. His chief material was bronze, and colossal
figures of gold and ivory are also ascribed to him. So far as we
know, he did not work in marble at all. His range of subjects
included divinities, heroes, men, and animals. Of no work of his
do we hear so often or in terms of such high praise as of a
certain figure of a cow, which stood on or near the Athenian
Acropolis. A large number of athlete statues from his hand were to
be seen at Olympia, Delphi, and perhaps elsewhere, and this side
of his activity was certainly an important one. Perhaps it is a
mere accident that we hear less of his statues of divinities and
heroes.
The starting point in any study of Myron must be his Discobolus
(Discus-thrower). Fig. 104 reproduces the best copy. This statue
was found in Rome in 1781, and is in an unusually good state of
preservation. The head has never been broken from the body; the
right arm has been broken off, but is substantially antique; and
the only considerable restoration is the right leg from the knee
to the ankle. The two other most important copies were found
together in 1791 on the site of Hadrian's villa at Tibur (Tivoli).
One of these is now in the British Museum, the other in the
Vatican; neither has its original head. A fourth copy of the body,
a good deal disguised by "restoration," exists in the Museum of
the Capitol in Rome. There are also other copies of the head
besides the one on the Lancellotti statue.
The proof that these statues and parts of statues were copied from
Myron's Discobolus depends principally upon a passage in Lucian
(about 160 A. D.). [Footnote: Philopseudes, Section 18.] He gives a
circumstantial description of the attitude of that work, or rather
of a copy of it, and his description agrees point for point with
the statues in question. This agreement is the more decisive
because the attitude is a very remarkable one, no other known
figure showing anything in the least resembling it. Moreover, the
style of the Lancellotti statue points to a bronze original of the
"Transitional period," to which on historical grounds Myron is
assigned.
Myron's statue represented a young Greek who had been victorious
in the pentathlon, or group of five contests (running, leaping,
wrestling, throwing the spear, and hurling the discus), but we
have no clue as to where in the Greek world it was set up. The
attitude of the figure seems a strange one at first sight, but
other ancient representations, as well as modern experiments,
leave little room for doubt that the sculptor has truthfully
caught one of the rapidly changing positions which the exercise
involved. Having passed the discus from his left hand to his
right, the athlete has swung the missile as far back as possible.
In the next instant he will hurl it forward, at the same time, of
course, advancing his left foot and recovering his erect position.
Thus Myron has preferred to the comparatively easy task of
representing the athlete at rest, bearing some symbol of victory,
the far more difficult problem of exhibiting him in action. It
would seem that he delighted in the expression of movement. So his
Ladas, known to us only from two epigrams in the Anthology,
represented a runner panting toward the goal; and others of his
athlete statues may have been similarly conceived. His temple-
images, on the other hand, must have been as composed in attitude
as the Discobolus is energetic.
The face of the Discobolus is rather typical than individual. If
this is not immediately obvious to the reader, the comparison of a
closely allied head may make it clear. Of the numerous works which
have been brought into relation with Myron by reason of their
likeness to the Discobolus, none is so unmistakable as a fine bust
in Florence (Fig. 105). The general form of the head, the
rendering of the hair, the anatomy of the forehead, the form of
the nose and the angle it makes with the forehead--these and other
features noted by Professor Furtwangler are alike in the
Discobolus and the Riccardi head. These detailed resemblances
cannot be verified without the help of casts or at least of good
photographs taken from different points of view; but the general
impression of likeness will be felt convincing, even without
analysis. Now these two works represent different persons, the
Riccardi head being probably copied from the statue of some ideal
hero. And the point to be especially illustrated is that in the
Discobolus we have not a realistic portrait, but a generalized
type. This is not the same as to say that the face bore no
recognizable resemblance to the young man whom the statue
commemorated. Portraiture admits of many degrees, from literal
fidelity to an idealization in which the identity of the subject
is all but lost. All that is meant is that the Discobolus belongs
somewhere near the latter end of the scale. In this absence of
individualization we have a trait, not of Myron alone, but of
Greek sculpture generally in its rise and in the earlier stages of
its perfection (cf. page 126).
Another work of Myron has been plausibly recognized in a statue of
a satyr in the Lateran Museum (Fig. 106). The evidence for this is
too complex to be stated here. If the identification is correct,
the Lateran statue is copied from the figure of Marsyas in a
bronze group of Athena and Marsyas which stood on the Athenian
Acropolis The goddess was represented s having just flung down in
disdain a pair of flutes; the satyr, advancing on tiptoe,
hesitates between cupidity and the fear of Athena's displeasure.
Marsyas has a lean and sinewy figure, coarse stiff hair and beard,
a wrinkled forehead, a broad flat nose which makes a marked angle
with the forehead, pointed ears (modern, but guaranteed by another
copy of the head), and a short tail sprouting from the small of
the back The arms, which were missing, have been incorrectly
restored with castanets. The right should be held up, the left
down, in a gesture of astonishment. In this work we see again
Myron's skill in suggesting movement. We get a lively impression
of an advance suddenly checked and changed to a recoil.
Thus far in this chapter we have been dealing with copies Our
stock of original works of this period, however, is not small; it
consists, as usual, largely of architectural sculpture. Fig. 107
shows four metopes from a temple at Selinus. They represent
(beginning at the left) Heracles in combat with an Amazon, Hera
unveiling herself before Zeus, Actaeon torn by his dogs in the
presence of Artemis, and Athena overcoming the giant Enceladus.
These reliefs would repay the most careful study, but the
sculptures of another temple have still stronger claims to
attention.
Olympia was one of the two most important religious centers of the
Greek world, the other being Delphi. Olympia was sacred to Zeus,
and the great Doric temple of Zeus was thus the chief among the
group of religious buildings there assembled. The erection of this
temple probably falls in the years just preceding and following
460 B.C. A slight exploration carried on by the French in 1829 and
the thorough excavation of the site by the Germans in 1875-81
brought to light extensive remains of its sculptured decoration.
This consisted of two pediment groups and twelve sculptured
metopes, besides the acroteria. In the eastern pediment the
subject is the preparation for the chariot-race of Pelops and
Oenomaus. The legend ran that Oenomaus, king of Pisa in Elis,
refused the hand of his daughter save to one who should beat him
in a chariot-race. Suitor after suitor tried and failed, till at
last Pelops, a young prince from over sea, succeeded In the
pediment group Zeus, as arbiter of the impending contest, occupies
the center. On one side of him stand Pelops and his destined
bride, on the other Oenomaus and his wife, Sterope (Fig. 108). The
chariots, with attendants and other more or less interested
persons follow (Fig. 109). The moment chosen by the sculptor is
one of expectancy rather than action, and the various figures are
in consequence simply juxtaposed, not interlocked. Far different
is the scene presented by the western pediment. The subject here
is the combat between Lapiths and Centaurs, one of the favorite
themes of Greek sculpture, as of Greek painting. The Centaurs,
brutal creatures, partly human, partly equine, were fabled to have
lived in Thessaly. There too was the home of the Lapiths, who were
Greeks. At the wedding of Pirithous, king of the Lapiths, the
Centaurs, who had been bidden as guests, became inflamed with wine
and began to lay hands on the women. Hence a general metee, in
which the Greeks were victorious. The sculptor has placed the god
Apollo in the center (Fig. 110), undisturbed amid the wild tumult;
his presence alone assures us what the issue is to he. The
struggling groups (Figs. 111, 112) extend nearly to the corners,
which are occupied each by two reclining female figures,
spectators of the scene. In each pediment the composition is
symmetrical, every figure having its corresponding figure on the
opposite side. Yet the law of symmetry is interpreted much more
freely than in the Aegina pediments of a generation earlier; the
corresponding figures often differ from one another a good deal in
attitude, and in one instance even in sex.
Our illustrations, which give a few representative specimens of
these sculptures, suggest some comments. To begin with, the
workmanship here displayed is rapid and far from faultless. Unlike
the Aeginetan pediment-figures and those of the Parthenon, these
figures are left rough at the back. Moreover, even in the visible
portions there are surprising evidences of carelessness, as in the
portentously long left thigh of the Lapith in Fig. 112. It is,
again, evidence of rapid, though not exactly of faulty, execution,
that the hair is in a good many cases only blocked out, the form
of the mass being given, but its texture not indicated (e.g., Fig.
111). In the pose of the standing figures (e.g., Fig. 108), with
the weight borne about equally by both legs, we see a modified
survival of the usual archaic attitude. A lingering archaism may
be seen in other features too; very plainly, for example, in the
arrangement of Apollo's hair (Fig 110). The garments represent a
thick woolen stuff, whose folds show very little pliancy. The
drapery of Sterope (Fig. 108) should be especially noted, as it is
a characteristic example for this period of a type which has a
long history She wears the Doric chiton, a sleeveless woolen
garment girded and pulled over the girdle and doubled over from
the top. The formal, starched-looking folds of the archaic period
have disappeared. The cloth lies pretty flat over the chest and
waist; there is a rather arbitrary little fold at the neck. Below
the girdle the drapery is divided vertically into two parts; on
the one side it falls in straight folds to the ankle, on the other
it is drawn smooth over the bent knee.
Another interesting fact about these sculptures is a certain
tendency toward realism. The figures and faces and attitudes of
the Greeks, not to speak of the Centaurs, are not all entirely
beautiful and noble. This is illustrated by Fig. 109, a bald-
headed man, rather fat. Here is realism of a very mild type, to be
sure, in comparison with what we are accustomed to nowadays; but
the old men of the Parthenon frieze bear no disfiguring marks of
age. Again, in the face of the young Lapith whose arm is being
bitten by a Centaur (Fig. 112), there is a marked attempt to
express physical pain; the features are more distorted than in any
other fifth century sculpture, except representations of Centaurs
or other inferior creatures. In the other heads of imperiled men
and women in this pediment, e.g., in that of the bride (Fig. 111),
the ideal calm of the features is overspread with only a faint
shadow of distress.
Lest what has been said should suggest that the sculptors of the
Olympia pediment-figures were indifferent to beauty, attention may
be drawn again to the superb head of the Lapith bride. Apollo, too
(Fig. 110), though not that radiant god whom a later age conceived
and bodied forth, has an austere beauty which only a dull eye can
fail to appreciate.
The twelve sculptured metopes of the temple do not belong to the
exterior frieze, whose metopes were plain, but to a second frieze,
placed above the columns and antae of pronaos and opisthodomos.
Their subjects are the twelve labors of Heracles, beginning with
the slaying of the Nemean lion and ending with the cleansing of
the Augean stables. The one selected for illustration is one of
the two or three best preserved members of the series (Fig. 113).
Its subject is the winning of the golden apples which grew in the
garden of the Hesperides, near the spot where Atlas stood,
evermore supporting on his shoulders the weight of the heavens.
Heracles prevailed upon Atlas to go and fetch the coveted
treasure, himself meanwhile assuming the burden. The moment chosen
by the sculptor is that of the return of Atlas with the apples. In
the middle stands Heracles, with a cushion, folded double, upon
his shoulders, the sphere of the heavens being barely suggested at
the top of the relief. Behind him is his companion and
protectress, Athena, once recognizable by a lance in her right
hand. [Footnote: Such at least seems to be the view adopted in the
latest official publication on the subject "Olympia; Die Bildwerke
in Stein und Thon," Pl. LXV.] With her left hand she seeks to ease
a little the hero's heavy load. Before him stands Atlas, holding
out the apples in both hands. The main lines of the composition
are somewhat monotonous, but this is a consequence of the subject,
not of any incapacity of the artist, as the other metopes testify.
The figure of Athena should be compared with that of Sterope in
the eastern pediment. There is a substantial resemblance in the
drapery, even to the arbitrary little fold in the neck; but the
garment here is entirely open on the right side, after the fashion
followed by Spartan maidens, whereas there it is sewed together
from the waist down; there is here no girdle; and the broad, flat
expanse of cloth in front observable there is here narrowed by two
folds falling from the breasts.
Fig. 114 is added as a last example of the severe beauty to be
found in these sculptures. It will be observed that the hair of
this head is not worked out in detail, except at the front. This
summary treatment of the hair is, in fact, more general in the
metopes than in the pediment-figures. The upper eyelid does not
yet overlap the under eyelid at the outer corner (cf. Fig. 110).
The two pediment-groups and the metopes of this temple show such
close resemblances of style among themselves that they must all be
regarded as products of a single school of sculpture, if not as
designed by a single man. Pausanias says nothing of the authorship
of the metopes; but he tells us that the sculptures of the eastern
pediment were the work of Paeonius of Mende, an indisputable
statue by whom is known (cf. page 213), and those of the western
by Alcamenes, who appears elsewhere in literary tradition as a
pupil of Phidias. On various grounds it seems almost certain that
Pausanias was misinformed on this point. Thus we are left without
trustworthy testimony as to the affiliations of the artist or
artists to whom the sculptured decoration of this temple was
intrusted.
The so-called Hestia (Vesta) which formerly belonged to the
Giustiniani family (Fig. 115), has of late years been inaccessible
even to professional students. It must be one of the very best
preserved of ancient statues in marble, as it is not reported to
have anything modern about it except the index finger of the left
hand. This hand originally held a scepter. The statue represents
some goddess, it is uncertain what one. In view of the likeness in
the drapery to some of the Olympia figures, no one can doubt that
this is a product of the same period.
In regard to the bronze statue shown in Fig. 116 there is more
room for doubt, but the weight of opinion is in favor of placing
it here. It is confidently claimed by a high authority that this
is an original Greek bronze. There exist also fragmentary copies
of the same in marble and free imitations in marble and in bronze.
The statue represents a boy of perhaps twelve, absorbed in pulling
a thorn from his foot. We do not know the original purpose of the
work; perhaps it commemorated a victory won in a foot-race of boys
The left leg of the figure is held in a position which gives a
somewhat ungraceful outline; Praxiteles would not have placed it
so. But how delightful is the picture of childish innocence and
self-forgetfulness! This statue might be regarded as an epitome of
the artistic spirit and capacity of the age--its simplicity and
purity and freshness of feeling, its not quite complete
emancipation from the formalism of an earlier day.