ART AND WORK
In our treatment of erotic art we have been led far away from the
connection between art and the maintenance of species. Whatever the
case may be for animals and those primitive men whose sexual life is
restricted within a short and fixed pairing season, an artificial
stimulation of the erotic feelings is no _biological_ requirement
for the existing tribes of man. Where art has mainly served this
purpose, it has not, as has been shown, by any means exercised a
beneficial influence on the race. The most typical illustrations in
the last chapter were therefore found in the artistic productions
of degenerate tribes which no doubt would, if brought into conflict
with less licentious neighbours, prove inferior in the struggle for
existence. And all these instances afford invaluable arguments to those
philosophers who consider art as a checking and weakening factor in
progress.
It is hoped, however, that the present chapter will contribute towards
the refutation of such one-sided views. We intend to adduce instances
from various stages of culture which will bring out the importance of
art as a favouring factor in the struggle for life.
It is evident that a pantomimic imitation of any activity must, as
exercise and stimulation, facilitate the subsequent real execution
of the same activity. Individuals and nations who have grown familiar
in play with the most important actions in life’s work have thus
acquired an unquestionable advantage in the struggle for existence.
After the publication of Professor Groos’s great works on animal and
human recreations it is needless to dwell upon this point. This eminent
psychologist has, with regard to the evolutionary value of sportive
representations—or, as he prefers to say, “præ-presentations”—of life,
been led to consider them as based on inherited instinctive impulses.
Instead of the play-impulse, which only serves to provide an outflow
for the superfluous energy in the organism, he has thus introduced
the conception of an activity which exercises an important positive
influence on life. And, on the other hand, his consummate researches
have brought out with especial clearness the intimate connection
between play and art. A great many of the instances he has collected
present all the technical qualifications of a manifestation of dramatic
art. As Groos himself remarks, only the addition of a disinterested
æsthetic attention in the players is needed in order to transform the
instinctive activities into artistic ones. How this transition has
taken place is a question which will undoubtedly be treated in the
great system of art-philosophy to which the hitherto published works
of Professor Groos constitute the introduction. We have therefore
only to point out how much support these views derive from the study
of primitive art. In the various tribes, with their differing types
of life, there is afforded a singular opportunity of observing the
connection between play, or art, and the serious occupations of life.
The games of the children, as well as the dances and pantomimes of
the full-grown, almost everywhere correspond to the prevailing
activities in the various communities. The North American Indians,
the Malays, the Maoris, the tribes of Central Asia, and others, all
furnish instances of the familiar law that the amusements of warlike
nations mainly consists in exercises which are preliminary to, or
reminiscent of, the experiences of battle. A war dance or a mimic
fight is the traditional type not only of their public entertainments,
but also of their state ceremonial. No example could be more telling
than that of the Dahomey state dances, which, however they may begin,
always seem to end with an imitation of the greatest social action in
the country—decapitation.[390] Where the struggle for existence is
a contest with nature and not with fellow-men, a hunting or fishing
pantomime usually takes the place of these military performances. It
is true that such representations of work often lose their importance
in national art when the conditions of life grow easier. Mr. Taplin
thus contrasts the rich and varied entertainments of the Polynesians,
who without any exertion obtain their subsistence from their bountiful
soil, with the amusements of the poor Narrinyeri, who even in their
dances and pantomimes have always practised “those arts which were
necessary to get a living.”[391] But it is significant that even the
inhabitants of these “happy islands” in their dramatic performances
introduce imitations of rowing, fighting, and other kinds of common
work. And at still higher degrees of development, where the division of
labour has given rise to special trades, all these various crafts will
often, as was the case in Dahomey, in ancient Peru, and in mediæval
Europe, be a favourite subject for pantomimic representation.[392]
If such representations have been of no especial value as exercise,
they may nevertheless, by bringing about an association between work
and pleasure, have made toil and labour less repugnant. The exertions
called forth by the struggle for existence have thus at all stages
of culture, except that of modern industrialism, been to some extent
facilitated by art.
Perhaps even more important in their influences than the imitation of
work in play or drama are the artistic activities which accompany the
actual performance of work. As these kinds of dance and song have been
somewhat overlooked by Professor Groos, there is reason to make them
the subject of a closer investigation.
When explaining the manifestations of art which can thus, in the
literal meaning of the word, be called songs and dances of action,
we have to divide our attention between two different points of
view. First, the need of stimulation and regulation of the work of
the individual, and, second, the need of co-operation in the work of
different individuals. In both these respects art has had an importance
among primitive tribes which can scarcely be overrated.
It is well known that at a lower degree of mental development
the power of instantaneous muscular exertion is far less than
among educated men. Broca’s experiments showed that artisans with
somewhat trained intelligence generally reached higher figures on a
dynamometer than working men who were only used to bodily exertions.
And the Negroes, whose forces were tested by Féré, were far below
the average of Europeans.[393] As in these experiments the natives
were introduced to new and unaccustomed movements, the evidence of
the psychometric apparatus must be considered as somewhat extenuated
by the circumstances. Broadly speaking, these experiments can,
however, be taken as indications of a general psychological law.[394]
The experimental evidence is, moreover, corroborated by the common
complaints of Europeans who have had to rely on natives. The slowness
with which the primitive man gets into swing with his work has no
doubt been referred to times without number by slavekeepers when
advocating their methods of treating natives. Strange to say, there are
some tribes which themselves candidly admit their own inertness, and
voluntarily submit to whipping in order to get “their blood a little
agitated.”[395]
The slowness and the insensibility of the Guarani are, however,
as appears from Mr. Rengger’s description, exceptional and
pathological.[396] But it seems as if almost all tribes had invented
some means of inciting themselves to work. Only, these means are seldom
such as Europeans would feel inclined to avail themselves of when
urging on their workers. That they can nevertheless be as effectual as
even the slavekeepers whip is shown by Signor Salvado. His description
of his experiences with Australian natives as farm-labourers is
delightful: “How often,” says he, “have I not used their dancing songs
in order to encourage and urge them on in their work. I have seen them,
not once, but a thousand times lying on the ground with minds and
bodies wearied by their labour; yet as soon as they heard me singing
the Machielò-Machielé, which is one of their commonest and favourite
dancing songs, they would yield to an irresistible impulse, and rise
and join me with their voices. They would even begin to dance joyfully
and contentedly, especially when they saw me singing and dancing among
them, like any other savage. After a few minutes of dancing I would
seize the opportunity to cry out to them in a merry voice, Mingo!
Mingo! a word meaning breast, which is also used in the same way as
our word courage. After such an exhortation they would gradually set
to work again. And they would begin afresh with such goodwill and
eagerness, that it seemed as if the dance of Machielò had communicated
to them new courage and new vigour.”[397]
From many parts of the world there may be quoted examples of savages
who always raise a chant when compelled to overcome their natural
laziness.[398] In many cases they seem, as in Salvado’s anecdote, to
avail themselves of words and melodies which perhaps were originally
intended only for amusement.[399] But it is also well known that
working men everywhere stimulate themselves by special songs of
exhortation.[400] And when employed in prolonged and monotonous work
they everywhere seem to know that toil may be relieved by song.[401]
The majority of these work poems may perhaps be of no great poetical
or musical merit, but that does not affect their great evolutionistic
importance. Whether Noiré is right or not in his theory that language
has developed from the work cries of primitive men,[402] there is no
doubt that some of the simplest and perhaps earliest specimens of
poetry are to be found among the short ditties sung by labourers during
their work. The stimulus which is provided by such songs is easily
understood without any explanation. But their invigorating power will
be perceived more clearly when we take into account that emotional
susceptibility to musical impressions which has been remarked in so
many primitive tribes.[403] Besides these invigorating effects, every
musical accompaniment will also, by virtue of its rhythmic elements,
regulate the movements of work, and thereby produce a saving of force
deployed.
When the words of the work-songs refer to the action itself, the
effect will be strengthened by verbal suggestion. It is true that many
of the songs which are sung during the manufacture of weapons and
utensils, during boat-building and such-like, are magical in their
intention.[404] But there is no doubt that the ideas of poetical
magic are to a great extent derived from a psychological experience
of the suggestive power of words. Without committing ourselves to any
superstition, we can easily believe that—in Polynesia as well as in
ancient Finland—canoes were better built when the “boat-building” song
was properly recited by the builder. Only we prefer to think that the
magic operated on the workman and not on his material.
The psychological influence of the work dances is still easier to
understand. Preliminary movements, even when undirected, always make
the subsequent action more effective; witness a golfer’s flourish
before driving. As Lagrange has pointed out, their effect will be
to develop that amount of animal heat which is necessary for every
muscular contraction.[405] When, moreover, they are fixed and
differentiated in their form, the influence will of course be all the
greater. By every attempt to execute a special movement, the idea
of such movement is made more and more distinct. And as hereby the
ideomotor force of this representation is increased, the final action
must be executed with greater ease and greater efficacy. The validity
of this law may be easily proved by experimental psychology. Féré has
in his dynamometrical tests observed that the second pressure always
attains a higher figure than the first one. “La première pression a
pour effet de renforcer la représentation mentale du mouvement.”[406]
Without any theoretical knowledge of these psychological facts, the
common man has always been able to avail himself of the beneficial
effects which are to be derived from preliminary imitations of any
difficult movement. Hence the curious pantomimes of experimentation
which we may always observe in the artisan who has to give a finishing
touch to his work, or in the athlete who tries to perform a new and
unaccustomed exercise.
The psychology of movement-perception, as we have described it in the
foregoing, makes it evident that a similar prompting influence may be
exercised by the actions of others.[407] This is an experience which
must have occurred, we should imagine, to every one who has been
coached in golf by a professional. When concentrating his attention
upon each successive movement in the instructor’s model performance,
the beginner in sports and gymnastics receives with his whole body,
so to speak, an impression of the exercise he has to go through. The
representation thus gains in distinctness as well as in motor force,
and the subsequent movement is executed in an almost automatic way.
These familiar facts from the psychology of everyday life will explain
why among the savage tribes we so often meet with the institution of
the præsul. When any labour is to be performed which requires the
co-operation of many hands, such as the harvest or rowing, the præsul
demonstrates in dance or pantomime the sequence of movements which
the others have to go through.[408] By the suggestive influence of
his performance all the individual workers are stimulated in their
exertions. More important, however, than this stimulation is the
co-ordination of labour which is effected by the element of rhythm in
song and dance.
We have in a previous chapter spoken at sufficient length of the
incalculable æsthetic importance of rhythm as a means of producing
emotional community between different individuals. In this connection
we have still to point out that a fixed time-division must in the same
way facilitate common activity. From the historical point of view this
practical aspect is undoubtedly the more important. However fundamental
and primordial the æsthetic function of the perception of rhythm may
seem for the theorist, it is most probable that the development of
this faculty has been chiefly furthered by its utilitarian advantages.
There is no doubt that even the most primitive man may feel the want of
associating his fellow-men in his emotions, and that for this purpose
he may be able to give the expression of them a fixed rhythmical form.
But the power of perceiving this time-division as a rhythm, and of
obeying it closely in song and dance, would, as Dr. Wallaschek has
shown, certainly not have attained so high a degree of development
if this power had not, by facilitating common activity, been of such
immense advantage for the maintenance of species.[409] It goes without
saying that any work which necessitates the co-operation of several
workers must be executed with greater efficiency the more closely the
individuals follow to a common rhythm.
There is no doubt, therefore, that, as Spencer remarks, the
incompetence of the Arab and Nubian boatmen on the Nile is chiefly
a result of their inability to act together. As an Arab dragoman
is reported to have said, a few Europeans would, by virtue only of
their superior powers of co-operation, do in a few minutes what now
occupies hundreds of men.[410] Such an incapacity for concerted action
is, however, quite exceptional among the lower tribes of men. Some
tribes, as _e.g._ the farmer Negroes in West Africa and the Malay and
Polynesian boatmen, are even famous for the wonderful regularity of
their work.[411] This regularity, on the other hand, has been explained
by all travellers as a result of the rhythmical songs by which their
work is accompanied.
It is significant that the most typical specimens of working songs and
dances should be met with in the tribes of Oceania. The insular life,
which even in other respects has been so favourable to the development
of art, has necessitated a most intimate co-operation between
individuals.[412] Hence the development of canoe dances and boating
songs, by help of which the movements of the rowers are adjusted
according to common and fixed rhythms.[413] The same necessity has of
course produced similar results, in a greater or less degree, in every
community where the type of life makes collective action needful. It
has not given rise to any important manifestations of art among the
pastoral tribes, in which individuals can do well enough without help
from each other. In agricultural societies, on the other hand, it has
called forth those sowing and harvest dances or songs which are so
familiar in the folklore of the civilised nations.[414] And, more than
any other of life’s occupations, war has required an active coherence
between the individual members of the tribe. The influence of military
institutions on art is, however, in more than one respect so important
that its treatment must be reserved for a special chapter.