public buildings. That we are acquainted with no Greek house is a proof
that these were of the same subordinate importance as was the family in
the Hellenic state. The house was nothing more than the scene of the
family labors, and turned modestly inward, confined and simple chambers
being grouped around a central court. The life of the Greeks was, for
the most part, spent away from home, upon the market-places and in the
gymnasia and stoas; it was only at meal-times and for repose that he
sought the retirement of his house. This was completely separated from
the outer world, the dwelling-chambers having no windows upon the street
and the façade being unimportant. The rooms, with the exception,
perhaps, of the dining-hall, were but little developed, being generally
lighted through the door alone. Their windowless walls presented no
opportunity for architectural treatment, this being restricted to the
court, a space of considerable size, surrounded by a colonnade. For
centuries there was nothing to lead to any increase of this simple
dwelling, or to the development of a palace architecture; in the ages of
the heroes and tyrants the constructive ability was insufficient, and
later republican equality was inimical to all individual ostentation. It
was not until royal power had, in the Macedonian epoch, taken the place
of democracy that private architecture made a decided advance,--less,
however, in monumental importance than in luxury and display. The
chambers were multiplied by a repetition of the courts, the rooms still
remaining small; while a refined extravagance, borrowing its decoration
from the sister arts, took the place of architectural invention.
Notwithstanding the Greek terms applied to various forms of rooms by
Vitruvius, they appear to have been comparatively restricted in size.
The so-called Corinthian hall, covered with a barrel-vault, is
specifically a Roman creation; the Egyptian hall, with a clerestory over
the central aisle, may have been built in remembrance of Alexandrian
models, while that of Kyzicos is illustrative of methods customary in
Asia Minor, and especially in Pergamon. The three chief cities of the
Diadochi must have presented imposing monuments of private and palatial
architecture: Alexandria, the Egyptian residence of the Ptolemies, had
been founded by Alexander himself, and in great part designed by his
architect, Deinocrates; Antioch, upon the Orontes in Syria, was built by
Seleucos Nicator, with the aid of the architect Xenaios, and rapid
increase soon quadrupled its original extent; Pergamon had been restored
and enlarged by Eumenes. The wonderful works of that time show
architecture to have lost all earnestness and truthfulness through the
extravagant demands created by the luxurious courts of the Ptolemies,
Seleucidæ, and Attalidæ; their sham theatrical pomp was surpassed only
by the Oriental costliness and splendor of the materials. The monuments
were expressive of the weakness and superficiality into which the
Eastern Hellenic world had fallen, and for which the forms of Greek art
were employed only as a transparent varnish. Alexander the Great had
himself led the way to this profusion of monumental and private
buildings. It was he, for instance, who had caused Deinocrates to erect
a pyramidal pyre for the burning of the body of his favorite
Hephaisteion, which was a marvel of tastelessness and extravagance: the
square substructure of brick masonry, with sides one stadion long, each
ornamented with two hundred and forty golden prows of vessels and nine
hundred and sixty statues, bore a second terrace decorated with golden
wreathed torches; the third and fourth stages were reveted with reliefs
of gold representing hunting scenes and the battles of the centaurs; the
fifth with golden lions and bulls, upon which followed Macedonian arms
and trophies taken from the barbarians. The whole was terminated by
golden figures of sirens, the hollow bodies of which accommodated the
singers of the funeral chant. A similar piece of display was the
magnificent wagon for the funeral procession of Alexander. Other works
were the gigantic tent for the Dionysian procession of Ptolemy II.,
Philadelphos, with its supports formed like palms and thyrses, with its
cupola-shaped roof, secret grottoes, etc.; and the Thalamegos, or
colossal Nile bark, a floating palace built by Ptolemy IV., Philopator,
with its Temple of Aphrodite and many halls, one of which had
chryselephantine Corinthian columns, and was decorated by a frieze of
reliefs executed in ivory and affixed to a golden ground. A
dining-saloon was built in the Egyptian manner, as a hypostyle, and the
hall of Dionysos was provided with an apse formed like a grotto. At the
same time, wonders of technical and mechanical skill divided attention
with these works of barbarous luxury. As early as the time of Hiero II.
of Syracuse, Archimedes and Archias built a monstrous ship, intended for
the transportation of grain, which is said to have comprised an entire
city, with a gymnasion, a public park, towers, reception-rooms,
dining-halls, etc. It had three decks, and was propelled by twenty rows
of oarsmen. Even this was surpassed by Ptolemy IV., who built a vessel
with forty rows of oars. In short, gigantic dimensions and tasteless
magnificence, favored by the insane competition among the followers of
Alexander, extinguished true art, the more rapidly as works of these
later ages were not executed with the solidity which preserved Roman
architecture from similar decline, even though it accepted many unsound
artistic influences from these Hellenic and barbarian despots.
* * * * *
The sculpture deserves even more unlimited admiration than the
architecture of Greece. Hellenic building shows monumental ideals such
as the creative power of no other people has attained; yet the problems
which presented themselves for solution were of a limited nature. In
sculpture, on the other hand, a height was reached which the artists of
all later times have scarcely been able to comprehend, far less to
equal. For centuries cultivated nations have drawn from this
inexhaustible fountain, in unconditional admiration,--learning from
Greek statues, and acknowledging their matchless perfection. Although it
may justly be concluded that a direct reconstruction of the
architectural remains, as a whole, were it possible, is not to be
recommended, still no one can hesitate to regard the best examples of
Hellenic sculpture as a model worthy of direct emulation, the
controlling influence of which upon the present age is only to be
desired. And though the Gothic cathedral may appear to some a higher
artistic conception than the Doric peripteros, no one would give
preference to the sculptures of the ancient Orientals, of the Mediæval
Christians, or even of the great masters of the Renaissance, over the
marble treasures gathered in any of the larger collections of antiques.
As, among all the works of antiquity, it is to Hellenic sculpture that
the undisputed palm of precedence is given, it is befitting that
particular attention should be devoted to it--that it should be treated
as the central point, the focus, of the history of ancient art. This is
made possible by the accounts of classic authors handed down concerning
it, and by the multitudinous remains preserved and accessible in the
museums of all great cities; it is rendered easy by the circumstance
that the attention and industry of the archæological explorer and of the
student of art have been directed to no other field of antique life with
equal zeal and with equally important results. The history of the
development of Hellenic sculpture thus lies, in its main features, more
clearly before us than does that of any other ancient art. Although
different views still exist in regard to many particulars, the arguments
advanced in their support only serve for greater general enlightenment.
The lively discussion which the question of the beginnings of Greek
sculpture has called forth may be considered as terminated, since the
Egyptian origin, advocated by Thiersch, Ross, Feurbach, Julius Braun,
Stahr, and others, has been refuted, or at least reduced to the
secondary and later influence assumed by Friedrichs. Indeed, the oldest
Grecian sculptures, when compared with those of Egypt, display a
complete contrast, and prove that such a connection, if it existed at
all, was by no means intimate. Egyptian art worked upon purely
mechanical principles, according to a typical network of lines.
Sculpture was drawn into the province of architecture, and slavishly
subordinated to it; carved figures became little else than architectural
members through uniformity, symmetrical regularity, and multiplicity of
repetition. Piers masked by the form of Osiris were thus substituted for
columns, and long rows of sphinxes or colossal statues were set, like
the obelisks, to decorate the avenues leading to the temples. The fixed
standard after which the heads of such figures were patterned--more like
the capitals of columns than imitations of life--and the members,
without action, and constructed according to an established height or
breadth, like the shafts of pillars, and similarly regulated in
proportions by their diameter--took away all independence as works of
sculpture, and caused the statues rather to appear as parts of an
architectural composition. The ordinary Egyptian stone-cutter knew of
only two positions, well established by custom; he renounced
fundamentally the countless different appearances of life, and, with
this, all representation of action and of individuality. Primitive Greek
sculpture, on the contrary, arose from a sound naturalism, which
directed the eye of the artist to real and peculiar appearances from the
outset, often neglecting the proportions of the whole in the desire
characteristically to express important details. The first Hellenic
figures are wanting in that which was so prominent in the Egyptian: a
correct, or at least a schooled, outline and modelling; while the
pleasing imitation of life in detail, utterly foreign to Egyptian
sculptures, is most forcibly presented. This naturalistic tendency
prevented Hellenic sculpture from degenerating into an Egyptian
formalism; the Greek artist did not blindly attach himself to a hieratic
model, but studied organic life, thus keeping his works free from that
ossified conventionalism common to all Eastern civilization. The very
first carvings of Greece had a power of development which was wanting in
all the other nations of that period.
To these differences of artistic principle must be added differences in
characteristic forms, dependent partly upon race and partly upon the
different conceptions of the two nations--differences so marked as to
enable us to distinguish their works without hesitation. The Egyptian
head differs decidedly from the Greek head in the high position of the
ear, the long, narrow, and somewhat obliquely placed eyes, the wide flat
nose, and the thick lips. (_Fig._ 28.) The Egyptian figure is slim, the
primitive Greek almost stunted; in the former the shoulders are high and
broad, in the latter sloping and narrow; there the hips are small, here
large. The garments of Egyptian works are either elastic, without
natural folds, clinging so closely to the body as often to be
recognizable only at the borders, or are heavily pressed together in
broad and angular masses. The scanty clothing introduced into ancient
Hellenic sculptures shows throughout a close observation of nature; and
the drapery is pleasing even in unsuccessful imitations, because it
betrays the loving care of the artist. In the oldest productions of
Greece we perceive a slumbering genius and capacity for development
which were wholly lacking in the trained handiwork of Egyptian art,--as
the faulty free-hand drawing of an intelligent boy, who tries to show
what he has seen, awakens greater interest and hope than do the labored
copies and tracings of an illiterate mechanic.
When compared with these weighty reasons against the dependence of
primitive Grecian sculpture upon that of Egypt, the arguments adduced in
favor of the supposition seem insufficient. Chief among these is the
opinion of several ancient writers who vaguely imply that the oldest
sculpture of the Greeks was related to that of the Egyptians, and
derived from it as a later production. But it is well known that
Pausanias and Diodoros were not exacting as to proofs of their opinions
in regard to the history of art. In this instance, they were deluded by
the same outward resemblance which has been so deceptive in modern
times,--a similarity dependent upon that stiffness of archaic statues
common to every primitive art, and to the attenuation and union of the
extremities, which resulted from the economy of material and labor
natural to both countries. But though, in the beginning of Greek
sculpture, certain difficulties of execution were avoided in the same
manner as in Egypt, and the material of the carved figures, whether
wood or stone, was meted out as scantily as possible, it does not follow
that they were directly dependent upon the Egyptian works which were
influenced by like considerations.
It is otherwise with the relations between Western Asiatic art and the
early sculpture of Greece. The preceding section has made it evident
that the most prominent characteristics of the Ionic style were
developed from this root, and the influence of Asiatic motives was as
marked in regard to the sculpture as to the architecture of Hellas. The
fully perfected flower, however, but little betrays an Oriental
derivation in either province. The art of Asia Minor and of Syria had
taken an essentially different starting-point from that of Egypt--one
more nearly allied to the Greek point of view. Instead of formulating
the human figure by a fixed canon after the manner of the Egyptians, it
looked to nature itself, with a decided realistic tendency. But in its
later development, as already shown, Mesopotamian art went as much too
far beyond reality as that of Egypt had remained behind it; and the
self-sufficiency of the Eastern despotisms resulted in that utter
standstill which checked the life of art in Assyria, Persia, and
Phœnicia. The acquired forms, as upon the Nile, stiffened into
conventional types, with the difference that those of Egypt took more
the character of a written chronicle, those of Mesopotamia and its
dependencies more that of ornament. Hellenic genius could only remain
upon such a low level during its immaturity; there are, therefore,
almost no traces of direct Asiatic influence evident in the sculptures
of Greece after the most primitive period, although in this it is
unmistakable. We may call this period of development the heroic age, and
understand by it the epoch from the earliest times to the first
Olympiad, 776 B.C. Even the native legends concerning the beginning of
Greek art point towards the East. The mythical founders of monumental
buildings, the Cyclops, to whom were ascribed the oldest stone
sculptures, like those upon the Lions’ Gate of Mykenæ, came from Lycia.
The Dactylæ appear in groups upon the mountains of Phrygia and Crete
often bearing names characteristic of their significance as cunning
artisans--Kelmis, Damnameneus, and Acmon (hammer, tongs, and anvil);
while the Telchinæ--Chryson, Argyron, and Chalkon (workers in gold,
silver, and copper)--inhabited Rhodes. The personification of various
metal-workers in these mythical guilds is unequivocal, and the
attributed locality of their dwellings has a corresponding meaning,
pointing to the coasts of Western Asia, where the process of overlaying
wooden carvings with beaten metal was predominant, as in Phœnicia and
the intermediate island of Cyprus. This empaistic work, of plates shaped
upon a model by hammer and punch, presupposes the carving of the model
itself, without which the creation of the sphyrelaton was obviously
impossible. The gold overlaying of Solomon’s Temple was formed upon
reliefs carved in cedar-wood, and was, perhaps, beaten over them: before
the discovery of bronze-casting, we may conclude this also to have been
the case with works of statuary in the round. The art of sculpture in
wood seems to have been native among the early Greeks; carved idols,
xoana, soon appearing as substitutes for those stones and trunks of
trees (Paus. vii. 22), which, provided at times with the attributes of
trident, caduceus, lance, or sceptre, were at first worshipped as divine
symbols. These were frequently so old that no account could be given of
their origin, and they were consequently said to have fallen from the
skies. It is difficult adequately to conceive the rudeness of these most
ancient xoana. The arms were not at all separated from the body, and
were indicated only in as far as was necessary to attach to them
characteristic attributes, like the garment and spindle in one hand, and
the lance in the other, of the Trojan Athene described by Homer. The
sacred figure was frequently quite covered with real doll-like clothing,
as is the Virgin or the _Bambino_ in many modern places of pilgrimage
provided by the Roman Catholic Church. The difficulty of representing
the hair of these puppets appears, from the later treatment of the heads
in marble, as seen in the Apollo of Tenea, to have been evaded by the
use of a woolly covering like a wig. The want of definition in the faces
is evident from the statement that some xoana had closed eyes. This is
not to be explained by the pious legends of antiquity that the image had
refused to look upon some deed of sacrilege,--such, for instance, as the
rape of Cassandra,--but by the fact that the eye was indicated only by a
horizontal painted line. It was from such rude figures that Daidalos
advanced. It was not only said that he was the inventor of various
instruments for wood-working, such as the axe, saw, auger, and plummet;
but certain improvements in the shaping of the statues were also
ascribed to him, such as the opening--that is to say, the formation--of
the eye, and the separating of feet, as if in the act of stepping. The
progress cannot, in fact, have been great. The traditional account that
the images had to be bound after the freeing of their legs, to prevent
their running away, must not lead us to imagine an ideal perfection, or,
indeed, any striking resemblance to life. The classical authorities who
knew the works attributed to Daidalos say, indeed, that they were
“wonderful to look upon,” and that “the master would have made himself
ridiculous by such works in our day.” The personality of Daidalos is
hardly better assured than that of the mythical workers in metal, the
Dactylæ and Telchinæ; the name itself, signifying the cunning workman,
is nothing else than a personification of artistic skill, a collective
term for all primitive skill and activity in wood-carving. As this had
developed from handiwork, the legend calls the father of Daidalos,
Palamaon, the contriver, or Eupalamos, the skilful artisan. The travels
which Daidalos is said to have made from Athens to Crete, Sicily,
Thebes, Pisa, Egypt, etc., merely result from the appearance of
so-called Daidalian works in those places. In the time of Homer, the
ninth century B.C., these images were already regarded as of great age;
so that the period of the beginning of Greek sculpture must be at least
as remote as the tenth century B.C. The one statue directly mentioned in
the Iliad, the sitting Athene at Troy, upon whose knees the Trojan women
laid a garment, appeared to the author of the Homeric epics to be a work
in the manner of Daidalos. If another passage (Iliad, i. 14) may be
understood as referring to an image of Apollo, this must, like the
Athene, have been at least partially covered with real clothing. Such
figures were also overlaid with metal; it is not to be doubted that the
gold and silver dogs, and the youthful torch-bearers of gold, in the
Palace of Alkinoos were carved models of wood covered with beaten plate.
The empaistic process, native to Phœncian countries, was early imitated
in heroic Greece. Though the island of the Phæacians was idealized by
the fancy of the poet, he yet cannot be supposed to have invented new
technical processes in an account which was to be generally
intelligible. It seems, however, that sculptural art had no great range
during the heroic ages; perhaps the works overlaid with beaten metal,
which were known to Homer, may have been the results of an accidental
and superficial knowledge gained by intercourse with the Oriental
peoples inhabiting the coasts of Western Asia.
[Illustration: Fig. 187.--Cover of Dodwell’s Vase, in Munich. Full
size.]