(Sculptor unknown.)]
The same combination of native Italian tendency with Hellenic
enlightenment, found in portrait-sculpture, is shown in the reliefs
which thereby became specifically Roman. These appear to have been very
numerous, as it pleased this people to leave few vacant surfaces upon
their monuments, which were not only ornamented, but literally covered
with reliefs and inscriptions. Thus sculpture became as much a written
chronicle as a decoration. In limited spaces, such as pedestals and
capitals, and the key-stones of arches, it became merely ornamental; the
subjects of the ornamentation, in keeping with the style, being chiefly
allegorical, such as Victories bearing trophies, the Seasons, etc. Upon
large surfaces sculpture completely took the nature of chronicles and
inscriptions, and thus were developed the truly Roman historical reliefs
in connection with inscriptions.
These, in accordance with the Italian view of art in general, rested
almost entirely upon a realistic foundation. Mythology disappeared, and
allegory alone still exercised a small influence; as, for example, the
Genius of Immortality bearing upward a deified emperor, Roma with the
triumphal quadriga, Victory upon a shield perpetuating the memory of
conquest; while personifications of cities or rivers, and even of
swamps, indicated the locality of the action, or Jupiter Pluvius
signified the coming of the saving rain. After the Antonines, the events
are related with simple truth to nature, as a mere chronicle, without
any idealization at all. The subjects of Roman reliefs are distinguished
from the Grecian only by the Greeks having substituted, whenever
possible, mythological for human or common events; and there was no less
difference in the artistic treatment. The Greek never lost sight of that
conventional law in sculptural reliefs by which the figures are
conceived in a situation to give the most pleasing outline. The whole
procession of persons, one behind the other, excluding all effect of
foreshortening and perspective, was displayed upon a surface, and
developed, so far as the figure would permit, in harmonious unity, and,
whether represented sitting on horseback, or on foot, occupying the same
space in regard to height and in regard to the depth of relief. It
resulted that the design was arranged in reference to two planes
only--the original surface of the stone, which disappeared with the work
(except in the highest points), and the common background. Roman
sculpture, on the other hand, freed itself from all such laws of style.
The profile position no longer predominated, and the figures in the
mutilated remnants, where the details are lost, appear like formless
masses, which, in the Hellenic system, would have been impossible. The
outline loses its significance, and the figures are arranged with such
disregard of the surface upon which they are placed that they rather
resemble portions of statues. The projection from the background also
varies, many parts, particularly the head and arms, standing entirely
disengaged. In the arrangement of several figures, one behind another,
against a landscape or architectural background, an attempt was made to
distinguish the forms in front from those behind by higher or lower
relief, with something of the effect of perspective. (_Fig._ 302.) From
this ensued a confusion of lines and a want of clearness, atmospheric
effect not assisting in sculpture, as in painting, to separate the
farther object from the nearer, and thus to define the distance. This
crowding was still more objectionable when, besides being grouped one
behind another, the figures were placed one over another, representing
the scene as if from a bird’s-eye view.
It thus happened that Roman sculpture in relief was characterized rather
by a realistic and picturesque tendency than by well-conventionalized
composition. But the forms remained Hellenic, at least so far as the
circumstances represented in Grecian examples would permit. When,
however, a river was to be represented, for which the Greeks always
placed a local deity as symbol, or when the besieging of towns, castles,
or bridges was given, the Romans approached more nearly to the
conception of Oriental nations. As the subject was of more importance
than the composition, the deed than the artistic illustration, a certain
common and formal correctness sufficed--an artistic handwriting, so to
speak, which might be easily read. Their work might be termed an
unconscious translation from the Assyrian or Egyptian into the Roman
language.
[Illustration: Fig. 302.--Relief from the Arch of Titus in Rome.]
It does not appear that the sculpture of historical reliefs was
developed much before the time of the Empire; at least, not more of
these remain than of the Roman portrait-statues that can be imputed to a
more remote period. Historic sculpture was best exhibited in triumphal
monuments. To this class belong the two world-renowned columns of Trajan
and of Marcus Aurelius. With more than five thousand figures and over
two hundred scenes, they are among the most magnificent sculptural
representations of all times. Upon these ascending spiral reliefs are
unrolled the chronicles of the Dacian and Marcomannic wars. The main
events are recognizable throughout, and the barbaric tribes may be
distinguished by their costumes, arms, and physiognomy; so that if
written history were wanting, the reliefs upon Trajan’s Column would be
an important source of information in regard to the biography of this
emperor and Roman imperial history. Vigorous in treatment and skilful in
drawing as it must be admitted that they are, still their artistic
value, from want of style in composition, is very small.
[Illustration: Fig. 303.--Relief of Trajan, from the Arch of Constantine
in Rome.]
The oblong tablets of relief upon the triumphal arches occupy a somewhat
more favorable position, because the frame led to a more formal, and the
duplication to a more harmonious, composition. The reliefs upon the Arch
of Titus, particularly those on the sides of the two large passages,
notwithstanding the ignorance which they betray, are of far higher
importance in art; and the same may be said of the reliefs upon the
monuments of Hadrian and Trajan. (_Fig._ 303.) How far the graces of
form and order, inherited from the Greeks and hitherto prevalent, had
disappeared even in the time of the Antonines, and given place to a
formal and vacant hardness, is shown by the relief upon the pedestal of
the lost statue of Antoninus Pius. (_Fig._ 304.) This represents the
apotheosis of Antoninus and Faustina, who appear seated upon the back of
a stiff, floating Genius of Immortality, in the weakest of compositions,
while cold and all-controlling Allegory places by the side of Roma a
personification of the Campus Martius, recognizable by the attribute of
the obelisk which was erected there by Augustus.
[Illustration: Fig. 304.--Relief upon the Pedestal of the Column of
Antoninus Pius.]
Roman sculpture reached its highest point under Hadrian. This emperor
filled all spaces with sculpture, as Trajan covered them with
inscriptions commemorating his restorations, acquiring thus, in later
times, the nickname of the “Lichen.” Even the golden house of Nero was,
in this respect, surpassed by the Villa of Hadrian at Tibur, where it
pleased him to reproduce all the wonderful works of architecture and of
sculpture which he had noticed in his extended travels through the Roman
world. After the death of Hadrian, however, who, as an enthusiastic
admirer of Greek art, naturally directed the artistic industry of his
time to the best possible reproductions of the highest products of
Hellenic art, the Romans began to follow the works of the later ages.
The lower they placed their aim, and the farther they were removed from
the original source of inspiration the more rapid was their decline.
Ideal art degenerated into increasing formalism, carelessness, weakness
of sentiment, and shallowness, though still retaining much that was
good, because the originals, though copied and recopied, still dated
back to the best periods. Portraiture naturally retained more
independence; but this also would have been stifled by the enormous
requirements, even if the declining art had possessed fresh vigor. To
understand this excessive demand, it is only necessary to bear in mind
the rapid succession of emperors after Antoninus, with the consequent
changing of imperial statues in all the cities of the Roman empire. With
the Antonines expired the ideal element in sculptural portraits; and
prosaic realism, as it had existed in ancient Italian art, obtained
exclusive mastery. Anxious struggles after external likeness in small
and inartistic details, like wrinkles, and abnormities such as the curly
and frizzled hair of the Antonines, and of L. Verus, with locks like
porous pumice-stone, took the place of the lost ideal--remarkable
examples, which failed to preserve the lifelike expression. Within a
century art had altogether lost the capacity for characterization, even
in portraiture; and the numerous busts of the later empire can hardly be
distinguished one from another. They are mostly portraits of emperors,
empresses, and princes, whose heads are stiffened and hardened into a
common type. Previously, with a change of the sovereign, they had
altered the heads of the Achilleic and iconic imperial statues; but it
now sufficed merely to vary the inscription, and, at most, the
accessories. But it was not difficult to change the face also, since it
pleased them, in making busts, to combine marbles of different hues, so
as to realize the local colors. Thus the mask was of simple white, the
hair of dark marble, the garments of red, green, and gray marble or
granite, and even the band for the forehead and the clasp for the toga
were of a suitable hue. In the heads of ladies this disagreeable
polychromy had the advantage that, upon the portrait of the same
sovereign, not only the mask, but the wig, could be altered, which,
according to the fashion of the day, might be blond, red, or dark, with
any desired mode of dressing the hair.
Carving in relief, after the Antonines, suffered a similar decline. The
sculptures upon the Column of Marcus Aurelius, in comparison with those
of Trajan’s Column, notwithstanding their unmistakable dependence upon
the older example, show the want of energy, of appreciation of form, of
variety, and of technical ability which characterizes the loss of
creative power, and the mere reproduction of models. The reliefs of the
Arch of Marcus Aurelius, once upon the Corso at Rome, now in the palace
of the Capitol, betray the same vacuity of expression and hardness of
form, in comparison with the illustrations from the life of Trajan upon
the Arch of Constantine; even when compared with the sculptures upon the
pedestal of the Column of Antoninus Pius, a decline is visible from the
time of the older to the younger Antoninus. But even these are superior
to the reliefs upon the Arch of Septimius Severus, erected in 201 B.C.,
which, in the main parts, have a fourfold division, in order to gain
space for the utmost possible number of representations. From the nature
of the design, the spiral reliefs upon the columns of Trajan and of
Marcus Aurelius exhibited such parallel rows, one above another; but
here the same method is employed upon a plane surface, although it
crowds the subject to such an extent that the figures become
insignificant and, at a little distance, indistinct. In these four lines
are given scenes of war, not, apparently, so much to celebrate combat
and victory in general as to register especial facts, battles fought
with various weapons, sieges, capitulations, and the transport of booty.
Though many of the details were vigorous, the forms in general tolerably
correct, and the technical ability considerable, yet the composition
appears barbaric, the grouping awkward, and the filling of the given
space, the composition, and the artistic construction altogether
unfortunate.
After Septimius Severus, statuesque art degenerated into mere
stone-cutting; the portraits are unrecognizable, the reliefs without
expression or effect, except, as in Egyptian art, from the number of
figures and accessories. In religious sculptures, finally reduced to
bungling artisan work, the last spark of Hellenic tradition died out in
continued weak copies. In historical reliefs the impulse to create
perished with the artistic ability. When large monumental constructions
were required, the material was frequently drawn from the works of
former emperors; and even in triumphal memorials, like the Arch of
Constantine, there was no hesitation in inserting reliefs unmistakably
celebrating the deeds of Trajan, or installing statues connected with
his conquests upon the Danube, the builders contenting themselves with
filling out what was lacking, as in the case of the Victories upon the
pedestals of the columns (_Fig._ 305), and the narrow frieze of reliefs
over the side passages. The figures err greatly in proportions: dumpy,
formless, and awkward, appearing incapable of motion, they already
exemplify that perfect rigidity which, in the following centuries, was
to hold sculpture in bondage. Even where the nature of the
representations permitted the influence of the old models, the decline
of technical ability is striking, as may be seen by comparing these
figures with the Victories upon the pedestals of the Arch of Septimius
Severus, which, though superficial, are not without a certain style. The
folds, for example, look like the holes and lines of the wood-worm; they
are simple stripes cut into the garment, without movement or purpose,
hard, rough, and hasty, as is the entire treatment.
[Illustration: Fig. 305.--Victory, from the Arch of Constantine.]
* * * * *
If in Roman art the province of architecture is the most important, and
that of sculpture the most richly represented, that of painting is the
most charming. In this, as in sculpture, the decorative character
predominated. Traces of that monumental art which creates for itself,
and for its own sake, are found only in works of the earlier time, and
even then in few and isolated instances. Even more than sculpture,
painting appears dependent and imitative, vacillating in the first five
centuries between the influence of ancient Italy and of Greece; later,
in close subjection to the latter, as developed in the Hellenistic
period after Alexander.
The earliest notice of monumental painting in Rome relates to the
decoration of the temples of Ceres, Liber, and Libera by the Greek
artists of Lower Italy, Gorgasos and Damophilos, in 493 B.C., of which
mention has already been made. Although they made use of four colors,
their method was that of the time before Polygnotos, and their work was
little distinguished from the older painting upon vases, such as those
of Ergotimos and Clitias in Florence, the surfaces within the outlines
being treated in color, without gradation of light or shade. It may
therefore be concluded that, in the two chief temples of the last period
of the kings, colored ornament, whether upon the plaster itself, or upon
a revetment of terra-cotta slabs, as in the tomb at Cære (_Fig._ 262),
was as little wanting as in the temples and tombs of Etruria. It may be
judged that in Rome this was specifically Etruscan, since Pliny refers
to the ornamentation of the Temple of Ceres only because in this Grecian
artists first appear to have taken part, while before “everything in the
Roman temple had been Etruscan.” Much as we may be inclined to regard
the primitive art of Etruria as dependent upon that of Greece, the
difference must have been considerable; and the Grecian wall-paintings
in the Temple of Ceres must have been held in great estimation, since,
according to Pliny, they were protected when the temple was restored,
being removed from the walls with great care, framed upon tablets, and
replaced.
It can scarcely be doubted that these wall-paintings opened the way to
Hellenic influence, although a guild of Etruscan artists for a long time
worked by the side of the Greeks in Rome, for purposes of ordinary
decoration. If, according to Pliny, “art came early to be honored in
Rome,” and even patricians did not hesitate to devote themselves to it,
it would seem that this must have been brought about through Grecian
methods. Fabius Pictor, whose wall-paintings, according to Dionysios of
Halicarnassos, were carefully drawn, of a fresh, agreeable color, and
composed in a grand historical style, acquired his sobriquet and his
great fame by his paintings in the Temple of Salus, executed in the year
304 B.C. His rank in regard to drawing may be exemplified by the
wonderful _sgraffiti_ of the Cista of Novius Plautius in Rome, although
the latter, having flourished half a century later, may take a somewhat
higher rank. The paintings of the tragic poet Pacuvius, from 220 to 130
B.C., were still more advanced. Among these a picture, probably upon a
panel, in the Temple of Hercules in the Forum Boarium, was very
celebrated; and it may be assumed that, in order to obtain renown, the
artist adopted with success the technical refinements of the period of
the Diadochi. The aged artist, before his death, must have witnessed the
extensive robberies which brought to the metropolis, besides the
sculptural works, the most distinguished pictures of Greece, it having
happened in his prime that the Athenian painter and philosopher
Metrodoros was called to Rome by Æmilius Paulus--as a philosopher to
educate his children, and as an artist to illustrate his triumphs.
Metrodoros, who, in his artistic and scholarly versatility, had written
a book upon architecture, gave assistance even in the construction of
triumphal arches. Still, Æmilius Paulus may well have wished to glorify
his deeds by historical paintings, as had been customary with the
conquerors for a century. In 293 B.C., M. Valerius Maximus Messala had
placed a battle-scene in the Curia Hostilia, illustrating his victory
over the Carthaginians and Hiero of Syracuse--an example which was
followed by L. Scipio, in 190 B.C., with a representation of his success
at Magnesia over Antiochus of Syria. These, however, must be regarded
less as works of art than as realistic delineations of the events,
analogous to the Roman historical reliefs in the time of the Empire; at
least, great importance was given to details in the picture representing
the Conquest of Carthage which L. Hostilius Mancinus, in 146 B.C.,
exhibited upon the Forum and explained to the people, and which
especially showed the Roman preparations for a siege. Such works, the
background of which was probably treated more or less as a landscape,
like the topographical representations of earlier antiquity, must have
been similar in conception and composition to the Assyrian reliefs that
represent battles and sieges, and to the pictures of the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries of the Christian era.
In the notices of these panel-paintings there are no names of artists to
assist in their classification; but it may be concluded that Metrodoros
was encouraged in this work, and Serapion, in 100 B.C., really
distinguished himself in such historical scenes. The artists of
importance in the last century of the republic, like Sopolis, Dionysios,
and their pupil Antiochus Gabinius, found themselves forced into
portraiture; the specialty of Iaia, or Laia, of Kyzicos was the painting
of women upon ivory, and Arellius portrayed his mistresses as goddesses.
But in the beginning of the empire, tablet-painting seems to have been
entirely abandoned, being supplanted by a new decorative tendency which
again, in quite an unmonumental manner, led back to mural painting.
[Illustration: Fig. 306.--Wall-painting, from the Aurea Domus of Nero.]
It is clear from the term “Pinacotheca,” applied to certain halls in the
city palaces, that the eagerness for collecting among the Roman emperors
and nobles extended as well to the paintings of Greece as to the
statues. In sculpture copies were substituted when originals were
wanting, but this seems to have been rarely the case with
panel-paintings. As the statues were employed for decoration,
originality in these was not so important; but with paintings preserved
in cabinets, genuineness was more imperative. Painting upon panels,
however, became less frequent when pictures came to be imitated upon
the wall itself and brought into harmony with the remainder of the mural
ornamentation, as, according to Helbig, was customary, particularly in
Alexandria, even in the time of the Diadochi. This is shown, not only by
the new discoveries among the buildings of Tiberius upon the Palatine,
but also in the frescos of those subterranean baths of Titus which may
be regarded as part of the ruins of the Golden House of Nero. (_Fig._
306.) Ornaments, garlands, and architectural designs divide the walls
into many spaces, within which groups or single figures (_Fig._ 307),
often dancing or floating, are placed directly against a ground of
intense color, sometimes black--the paintings of Campania showing
unsurpassed lightness and charm in the lines. (_Fig._ 308.)
[Illustration: Fig. 307.--Ceres. Pompeian Wall-painting.]
Sometimes they are ornamented with imitations of framed panel-pictures,
mostly containing mythological groups, and scenes in small genre. To
these was generally given a background of landscape, so that the figures
represented were little more than picturesque accessories; and this
custom seems to have led, perhaps even in the Hellenistic period, to
true landscape-painting. (_Fig._ 309.) According to Pliny, Ludius, or
Studius, introduced this style in the time of Augustus, of which,
besides those of Campania, the frieze decorations of the newly
discovered house of Tiberius upon the Palatine give the best
representations, and form an illustrated commentary upon the
descriptions of the works of Ludius. These are characterized as showing
“villas and halls, artificial gardens, hedges, woods, hills,
water-basins, tombs, rivers, shores, in as great a variety as could be
desired;” besides “figures sitting at ease, mariners, and those who,
riding upon donkeys or in wagons, look after their farms; fishermen,
snarers of birds, hunters, and vine-dressers; also swampy passages
before beautiful villas, and women borne by men who stagger under the
burden, and other witty things of this nature; finally, views of
seaports, everything charming and suitable;” that is to say, of a
certain facility and shallowness. The aim was to give an open and
cheerful effect, and this could be attained without correct and
naturalistic method or unity of idea; on the contrary a fantastic
unreality, and even impossibility, was its chief charm, like the
painting upon Japanese lacquered wares.
[Illustration: Fig. 308.--Wall-painting from Herculaneum.]
[Illustration: Fig. 309.--Landscape-painting from Pompeii.]