That greatest of all modern discoveries, the Hermes with the infant

Dionysos, found in the Heraion at Olympia (_Figs._ 227 and 228), has

proved the error of imputing to all the works of Praxiteles a delicate

gracefulness verging upon weakness, which had arisen from the study of

the only examples hitherto known--the copies of the Sauroctonos, the

Satyr, and the Aphrodite. The manly force of this statue, in character

midway between the conceptions of Pheidias and Lysippos, is, indeed, so

surprising that some scholars have even been inclined to assume a second

sculptor by the name of Praxiteles, there being no reason to doubt the

direct testimony of Pausanias as to the authorship of this work. The

beauty of this torso exceeds that of all other antique statues known;

the expression of the head conveys that intense sympathy between the

loving protector and the child which must have characterized the work of

Kephisodotos referred to above. It is possible that the Hermes was the

product of an earlier period of the sculptor’s development, more closely

related to the tendency and ideals of Pheidian art. When it is

considered that this torso is the only surely authenticated original

production of any great master of Greek sculpture--for it is by no means

certain that the gable groups of the Parthenon are by the hand of

Pheidias himself--there is no need for further discussion of the

fundamental importance of this most fortunate discovery.

[Illustration: Fig. 227.--Hermes with the Infant Dionysos. (From the

Heraion at Olympia.)]

Notwithstanding the astonishing many-sided genius and productivity of

Praxiteles, nearly all the Olympian deities appearing in the half

hundred of his works, it must still be acknowledged that, besides his

pathetic tendency, he particularly affected that province in which the

figures of maidens or youths gave opportunity for the development of the

greatest charms. His works portray a sensual loveliness distinguished

alike from that hard and abstract beauty, that outward perfection of

form sought and attained by Polycleitos, and from that elevated, godlike

being ideally embodied by Pheidias in his Zeus and his Athene. Neither

entirely human, as with Polycleitos, nor divine, as with Pheidias, this

emotional loveliness seemed created for the world of gods, but little

raised above the sight and experience of men; and this type appears to

have been as well established by Praxiteles as that of the higher

deities by Pheidias. Its examples are the Aphrodite and Eros, the

youthful Dionysos with his train, the Demeter, and the Eleusinian

circle.

[Illustration: Fig. 228.--Head of the Hermes of Praxiteles.]

[Illustration: Fig. 229.--Venus of Melos. (Louvre.)]

However important the school of these two masters of pathos may have

been, but few among the numerous names that have been preserved became

prominent. The chief exceptions are the above-mentioned assistants of

Scopas upon the mausoleum, and the two sons of Praxiteles, Kephisodotos

the younger, and Timarchos. Two of the greatest works of statuary,

however, may be ascribed to their most vigorous scholars--the Venus of

Melos in the Louvre (_Fig._ 229) and the so-called Ilioneus in the

Glyptothek at Munich. If the doubtful inscription of the artist upon the

former be credited, which, in characters of the first century B.C.,

designated it as the production of |Ale|xandros, son of Menides of

Antioch upon the Meander, but which, together with the corresponding

part of the plinth, has disappeared, we should possess in this work an

inexplicable anachronism, a creation of the highest rank in art produced

during a period of decided decadence. As, however, through this loss,

this assumption cannot be verified, science must proceed to judge it by

its style alone. Its grandeur and dignity, in contrast to the immodest

coquetry of later works; the fulness of the flesh in this body of

ever-blooming youth, in comparison with their attenuated grace; the mild

softness of the surface beside the cold polish of the other figures of

Aphrodite--would place this statue between the period of highest

perfection at the time of Praxiteles, and that of the Roman

reproductions. The reference of the Venus of Melos to the school of

Praxiteles has found a justification not to be undervalued in the

discovery of the Hermes at Olympia, this figure of manly youth forming

as complete a pendant to the maidenly Venus as could be imagined. In

artistic character this is far more nearly related to the Hermes than

is any other statue of Aphrodite, not excepting the undoubted Roman

reproduction of that of Cnidos. At any rate, it is clearly an Hellenic

original, not belonging to the period of later Hellenistic art.

Unfortunately, no explanation of this statue hitherto advanced has been

entirely satisfactory. The two arms are wanting, and the fallen drapery

covering the lower limbs has hidden from us the only accessory

evidence--namely, the object upon which the lifted left leg is

supported; so that even the name of Venus is not to be applied with the

usual certainty. The Roman types of Victory, also half nude, with the

same garments and position, and with the shield upon which the conquest

is inscribed, suggest an Aphrodite-Victory analogous to the Attic

Athene-Victory. The restorations all present points of difficulty; among

them may be mentioned that commonly received, where the goddess

contemplates herself in the shield of Ares, supported by the analogy of

a statue mentioned by Pausanias (ii. 5), an interpretation equally

applicable to the Venus of Capua, now in Naples; that also of Wiesler,

with the lance in the uplifted left hand; and the combination of the

goddess in a group with Ares by Quatremère de Quincy.

It is even less easy to find a reliable explanation of the beautiful

torso in the Glyptothek at Munich, formerly held, falsely, to be

Ilioneus among the Niobids, and even believed to be an original. As the

Venus of Melos is an illustration of ripened womanly beauty, the

entirely nude, cowering figure, without head or arms, represents the

perfection of youth; and the position suggests a subject equal in

pathetic import to that of the children of Niobe.

As the works of Scopas and Praxiteles frequently found their way to the

islands of the Ægean Sea, and as the former, at least, had certainly

dwelt for some time in Asia Minor, the influence of these two masters

appears to have extended eastward, and their style to have had decided

sway even longer there than in Greece proper. The farthest outlying

examples are presented by the fragmentary statues of the Nereids from

the Monument of Xanthos, to which they have given the name.

At that period, even in Athens, some highly esteemed artists not only

partially followed their own ways, but in these surpassed the former

masters, and pursued aims which did not become generally prevalent until

the middle of the fourth century, and then in quite other localities.

These were Silanion of Athens and Euphranor of the Isthmos. The first

devoted himself chiefly to portraits and representations of victors, and

was so especially successful in the former as to make them a real

embodiment of personal character; as, for instance, the portrait of the

passionate sculptor Apollodoros was made to appear a personification of

sudden rage. Silanion distinguished himself from Praxiteles in the

subjects of his art, in which he had much in common with Lysippos.

Euphranor was also, perhaps in a still greater degree, a painter, and,

in the coarser power of his creations, was opposed to the delicate style

of Praxiteles, showing more affinity with Lysippos, so far, at least, as

we can judge of his sculptures by the accounts of his paintings.

Similar to the transitional position between Pheidias and Scopas, held

by the elder Kephisodotos, was the position taken by these two sculptors

between the art of Scopas and Praxiteles and that of Lysippos, for whom

the studies and innovations in the canons of human proportions prepared

the way. Though self-taught, for as a youth he had been a hand-worker in

brass, and from this had raised himself to the position of an artist, he

was still not without connection with the schools, since he took as his

model the Doryphoros of Polycleitos, the academic pattern mentioned

above, and also worked in bronze, the material most favored by

Polycleitos and the artists of the Peloponnesos. He cannot, however, be

called a direct scholar of Polycleitos, whose canon he corrected and

even replaced by a new one, better adapted to the artistic aims of the

younger masters. The model of Polycleitos was the human body, but

Lysippos felt that he must set his ideal of humanity higher than in the

average of real examples, because he considered these, in comparison

with the perfect figure, to be degenerate and dwarfed. Although he

worked with reference to this view, still he developed his types from

the real appearances of nature; and when asked by the painter Eupompos

of Sikyon for advice as to the best teacher, he pointed to an assemblage

of people. He wished to represent man, however, not as he is, but as he

should be, and employed only those features which did not fall below

the average determined by Polycleitos. His ideal type of the human body

became more slender and larger, the size being especially apparent

because the head and extremities, which take their proportions from the

whole, were made smaller.

[Illustration: Fig. 230.--Marble Copy of the Apoxyomenos of Lysippos.

(In the Vatican.)]

Lysippos, however, followed the footsteps of Polycleitos in considering

the establishment of a canon as the greatest essential in art, and

exercised his powers chiefly in the province of humanity. His

Apoxyomenos--the athlete scraping himself with the strigil, a marble

copy of which is in the Vatican--is the most celebrated among his

statues of athletes and victors. (_Fig._ 230.) In this he seems to have

set forth his new confession of faith, in opposition to that of

Polycleitos. This aim must have had the most important influence upon

portrait-sculpture, the chief field of his activity. It is clear from

the accounts of some likenesses of persons long dead, or even legendary,

that he fully expressed the character in the features, as in the

Apollodoros of Silanion, and did not aim at that over-scrupulous

reproduction of details and attention to circumstantial matters which

endeavor to attain a likeness by sharp observation of external things,

unessential to the whole. This inferior style of portraiture was

pursued by Lysistratos, the brother of Lysippos, who formed his figures

after plaster casts from nature. Although earlier portraits might have

informed the sculptor in regard to the true features of some historical

personages, certainly this could not have been the case with Æsop, or

the Seven Wise Men, for whose individuality and intellectual tendencies

he was obliged to create a characteristic type. In the portrait which he

most frequently executed, that of Alexander the Great, it was of

especial importance to illuminate the ugly and faulty formation of the

monarch’s face by the expression of his powerful character, and to

execute it so appropriately that even the likeness was increased by such

depth of appreciation. The artist thus produced portraits of the

conqueror which differed as much, and as favorably, from the realistic

and chance appearance of the king as the historic illustration of a

great personage does from the knowledge of that individual in every-day

life. Alexander, accordingly, would be represented in sculpture by no

one except Lysippos, as he would be painted by none but Apelles. Even

that best-preserved portrait of Alexander, the bust in the Capitol, does

not suffice to make clear the whole conception of Lysippos. How grand

such monumental portraitures really were may be gathered from the

account of the group at Dium--afterwards transferred to the Portico of

Octavia in Rome--illustrating a scene from the battle upon the Granicos,

where twenty-five warriors on horseback and nine on foot were grouped

about the king, to which many of the enemy may doubtless be added.

The work next in importance after this was the representation of

Heracles by this master. Not in the elevation of the ideal above the

human, but rather in the emphasizing of this latter quality, did the

Heracles of Lysippos stand in distinct opposition alike to the merely

human model of Polycleitos, to the superhuman and godlike beings of

Pheidias, and especially to the divinely charming beauty of the

Aphrodite and the Eros, as seen in the best creations of Scopas and

Praxiteles. The Heracles of Lysippos, the embodiment of strength

developed beyond human possibility, appeared colossal, whether the

absolute dimensions were really great--like the statue from Tarention

which represented him resting upon a basket after the labor of cleansing

the Augean stables--or whether in miniature, suitable for a table

ornament--like the celebrated Epitrapezios, showing the hero as a

drinker. Copies, in part, still remain of the Labors of Heracles,

executed in twelve groups for Alyzia, in Acarnania. They show the same

type that is reproduced in the affected, overstrained statue of the

later Athenian artist Glycon--the so-called Farnese Hercules in Naples.

(_Fig._ 231.)

[Illustration: Fig. 231.--Farnese Hercules of Glycon. (In the Museum of

Naples.)]

Besides these prominent groups by Lysippos, evidences of his creative

energy, the figures of the deities appear to have been few in number.

That examples from the circle of young and beautiful divinities, which

formed the principal field for the art of Praxiteles, should be almost

entirely wanting, was to be expected, he who had perfected the type of

Heracles naturally preferring a powerful figure. Four statues of Zeus

are mentioned. Though the colossal size of these seems to have been a

prominent feature--the Zeus of Tarention measuring eighteen metres in

height--still they should not be considered as executed after a

conventional pattern, and consequently offering nothing worthy of

remark. In view of all that is known of Lysippos, it seems not

improbable that the Zeus of Otricoli (_Fig._ 232), formerly referred to

the Pheidian type, may be more nearly related to its modification by

Lysippos. The Helios upon the quadriga in Rhodes, besides its human

beauty, may possibly have been of great importance in type and

conception; but this is not assured by the fact that Nero prized it

highly, and ordered it to be gilded. If it be added that Lysippos worked

more industriously and rapidly than any other known sculptor--provided

the account be true that the number of his productions amounted to

fifteen hundred--it cannot be supposed that the time required for new

conception and careful execution would be given to them all.

[Illustration: Fig. 232.--Zeus of Otricoli. (Vatican.)]

The school of Lysippos was not wanting in names of renown. His most

gifted son, Euthycrates, appears to have equalled his father in groups

of portrait statues, like the Gathering of Riders and a Hunt of

Alexander in Thespia; while another son, Boidas, awakens our interest

from the circumstance that the celebrated Praying Boy, in the museum at

Berlin, may possibly be referred to him. Chares of Lindos produced the

greatest known work of Greek sculpture in regard to size--namely, the

colossal statue of the sun at Rhodes, over thirty metres high. Pliny

describes it as already fallen and in ruins, therefore his words give us

no information as to the conception and style; and the current account

of its having stood so high above the entrance to the harbor that

vessels sailed between the legs is a fabulous reminiscence of the figure

projected at Mount Athos by Deinocrates. Among the scholars of Lysippos,

Eutychides seems to have been the most independent; the goddess

Anticheia, a copy of which is in the Vatican, was distinguished by

excellence in the motive, ease of position, and effective drapery; but,

in its genre-like treatment, it excluded all thought of religious art,

to which a certain strictness and dignity should pertain. This goddess

was seated with dignity, like a city itself, while another

personification--the river-god--appeared “more flowing than water.” This

marked significance in both cannot be ascribed to a happy chance, but

must be regarded as evidence of that highly developed characterization

by which the great Sikyonian master endeavored to conceive the whole

being and to embody it in his portraits and representative figures.

Among the nameless works from the school of Lysippos, creations are to

be found of the highest merit. The originator of the Barberini Faun, now

in the Glyptothek at Munich, whoever he may have been, should be ranked

among the greatest masters of all times.

[Illustration: Fig. 233.--Boreas.]

[Illustration: Fig. 234.--Notos. From the Tower of the Winds, Athens.]

With Lysippos the development of art in its principal directions was

terminated. As Overbeck says, “the summit lies behind us; we descend,

and our way downwards may still lead through charming landscapes; but

the pure, clear ether soon ceases to surround us, and, before the

far-reaching glance, rises from the mist of centuries the flat and

endless desert, in the sands of which the stream of Grecian art is

quenched.” Alexander himself was the patron of the last of the seven

great masters of sculpture; with him ended the fresh directness of

Hellenic creations, as well as the greatness of Greece itself. He and

his successors built temples afterwards to be furnished, as before, with

statues of the deities and outwardly ornamented with sculptures; but

they took their models from those earlier works which, elevated to a

typical and canonical importance, were not to be surpassed, and employed

themselves simply in reproducing. They followed more willingly the easy

path open to them because, in the Alexandrian period, scepticism, empty

formalism, and chilling indifference had already laid the ravaging axe

to the Hellenic religion. With the spread of Hellenic power into the

heart of Asia, its art, like its polity, lost its individuality,

becoming _expansive_ instead of _intense_, in decorative subjection to

the requirements of elegance and use. Losing its former independent

nobility, sculpture soon fell from the height which it had occupied for

a century and a half. Athens, Sikyon, and Argos, hitherto central points

of development, where art had brought forth its richest fruits as a

model for the entire Hellenic world, now became provincial cities of

the Macedonian kingdom, and lost their glory--some for a long period,

and others forever. Following the example of Lysippos, artists preferred

wandering from court to court of Alexander’s successors; and in

Alexandria, Antioch, Seleucia, in Nicomedia, Pergamon, Ambrakia, mostly

new and elegant cities of royal residence, occupation could not have

been wanting, though the quantity of work may have tended to hasten the

decline. How extensive and extravagant were the artistic requirements of

the Diadochi, how excessive the incense of flattery offered them, is

shown in the description of the luxurious works of the Ptolemies and of

the Seleucidæ, and by the three hundred statues erected to Demetrius

Phalereus in Athens alone. These last may have been somewhat better than

the representation of the winds upon the clepsydra and vane of

Andronicos Kyrrhestios (_Figs._ 233 and 234), but even they must be

classed as mere artisan-work. Much was done in portrait-statuary after

the time of Alexander, who turned art in this direction; and the

successive dynasties also encouraged it, as may easily be imagined. This

is evident from the statues still preserved, from the Ptolemaic cameos,

and especially the coins of the Diadochi. The heads of these kings have

never been equalled, for fine and lifelike characterization and

modelling, in all the portrait coins and medallions which have been

struck down to the present time. (_Fig._ 235.)

Though a great deal was produced in the period of the Diadochi, and, in

the line of portraiture, much that was good, still there must have been

truth in the saying of Pliny that “after the 121st Olympiad (290 B.C.)

art ceased, and revived again only in the 156th (150 B.C.).” It ceased,

namely, in so far as it was made subservient to courts and decoration;

but upon the soil of Greece itself, and among the people, it grew, and

strove after higher aims. The production continued, but its artisan-like

elaboration did not make good the lost artistic originality. Men of

vigorous talent followed in the paths of Praxiteles and Lysippos,

producing works which are the ornaments of our antique collections; but

the character of reproductions, clinging to their creations, robs them

of the name of artist in the full sense of the word. The scanty notices

of Pliny are, in general, correct; but he omits to mention some

exceptions which represent a further development of sculpture, not quite

unimportant, though questionable in principle.

[Illustration: Antiochos I. of Syria. 281 to 262.

Philip V. of Macedon. 220 to 178.

Perseus of Macedon. 178 to 168.

Fig. 235.--Coins of the Diadochi.]

[Illustration: Fig. 236.--The So-called Dying Gladiator. School of

Pergamon.]

In two places, at the royal court of Pergamon and in the republic of

Rhodes, productive art rose again to a certain independence and

originality. Pliny himself, in another place, says that “several artists

illustrated the battles of Attalos and Eumenes against the Gauls;

namely, Isigonos, Phycomachos, Stratonicos, and Antigonos.” The great

victory over these barbarians was fought in 229 B.C. by Attalos, with

which Eumenes, by a misunderstanding easily to be explained, appears to

have been connected. Attalos erected in his capital a grand monument to

his victory, and, not contenting himself with this, consecrated another

upon the Acropolis at Athens, perhaps in part a copy of that in

Pergamon. Remnants of both monuments still exist which give a

comparatively good knowledge of the artistic peculiarities of this

school. The investigations upon this site, now approaching completion,

have unearthed hundreds of fragments in high-relief, part of a

gigantomachia originally forming the decoration of an altar. The altar

was surrounded by Ionic colonnades, the high stereobate of which was

ornamented with sculptures in high-relief, the whole being elevated upon

a gigantic terrace, 38 m. long, and 34 m. broad. The frieze,

representing the gigantomachia, stands midway between the works of

Lysippos and the Laocoon, and forms the most extensive and important

monument of sculpture remaining from the time of the Diadochi; it is in

many respects a parallel to that of the Mausoleum of Halicarnassos which

represents the decorative work of the school of Scopas and Praxiteles.

These works have now found their way to Berlin, but a critical account

of them will be possible only when they shall have been made generally

accessible by an official publication. The statue of the so-called Dying

Gladiator of the Capitol belonged to the group in Pergamon already known

(_Fig._ 236); as did the two figures in the Villa Ludovisi, representing

a Gaul who, to escape the shame of slavery, has stabbed his wife, who

sinks beside him, and is about to thrust the sword into his own neck.

In the so-called Dying Gladiator, the rough hair growing low upon the

neck, the strongly marked indentation between the brow and the

projecting Northern nose, the beard shorn to the upper lip, the heavy

cheek-bones, the fleshy and somewhat clumsily formed body, the hard and

calloused skin upon the hands and feet, the twisted neckband, and the

curved battle-horn have long since shown the meaning of this statue. In

the group in the Ludovisi Villa, the same marble, a like and peculiar

treatment of the forms, with the same type of head, leave no doubt that

this also belonged to a large group representing a victory over the

Gauls. From its style, it cannot be considered as a Roman monument,

particularly as some notices of the Athenian Votive Offering of Attalos

clearly identify it.

History of Ancient Art · 第 27 / 39 段