Now all these reactions to the picture are open to any one who has

enough understanding of natural form to recognise it when represented

adequately. There is no need for him to have any particular sensibility

to form as such.

Let us now take for our spectator a person highly endowed with the

special sensibility to form, who feels the intervals and relations of

[Illustration:

Raphael. The Transfiguration Vatican

Plate XXXI.]

forms as a musical person feels the intervals and relations of tones,

and let us suppose him either completely ignorant of, or indifferent to,

the Gospel story. Such a spectator will be likely to be immensely

excited by the extraordinary power of co-ordination of many complex

masses in a single inevitable whole, by the delicate equilibrium of many

directions of line. He will at once feel that the apparent division into

two parts is only apparent, that they are co-ordinated by a quite

peculiar power of grasping the possible correlations. He will almost

certainly be immensely excited and moved, but his emotion will have

nothing to do with the emotions which we have discussed since in the

former case, ex-hypothesi, our spectator has no clue to them.

It is evident then that we have the possibility of infinitely diverse

reactions to a work of art. We may imagine, for instance, that our pagan

spectator, though entirely unaffected by the story, is yet conscious

that the figures represent men, and that their gestures are indicative

of certain states of mind and, in consequence, we may suppose that

according to an internal bias his emotion is either heightened or

hindered by the recognition of their rhetorical insincerity. Or we may

suppose him to be so absorbed in purely formal relations as to be

indifferent even to this aspect of the design as representation. We may

suppose him to be moved by the pure contemplation of the spatial

relations of plastic volumes. It is when we have got to this point that

we seem to have isolated this extremely elusive æsthetic quality which

is the one constant quality of all works of art, and which seems to be

independent of all the prepossessions and associations which the

spectator brings with him from his past life.

A person so entirely pre-occupied with the purely formal meaning of a

work of art, so entirely blind to all the overtones and associations of

a picture like the Transfiguration is extremely rare. Nearly every one,

even if highly sensitive to purely plastic and spatial appearances, will

inevitably entertain some of those thoughts and feelings which are

conveyed by implication and by reference back to life. The difficulty is

that we frequently give wrong explanations of our feelings. I suspect,

for instance, that Goethe was deeply moved by the marvellous discovery

of design, whereby the upper and lower parts cohere in a single whole,

but the explanation he gave of this feeling took the form of a moral and

philosophical reflection.

It is evident also that owing to our difficulty in recognising the

nature of our own feelings we are liable to have our æsthetic reaction

interfered with by our reaction to the dramatic overtones and

implications. I have chosen this picture of the Transfiguration

precisely because its history is a striking example of this fact. In

Goethe’s time rhetorical gesture was no bar to the appreciation of

æsthetic unity. Later on in the nineteenth century, when the study of

the Primitives had revealed to us the charm of dramatic sincerity and

naturalness, these gesticulating figures appeared so false and

unsympathetic that even people of æsthetic sensibility were unable to

disregard them, and their dislike of the picture as illustration

actually obliterated or prevented the purely æsthetic approval which

they would probably otherwise have experienced. It seems to me that this

attempt to isolate the elusive element of the pure æsthetic reaction

from the compounds in which it occurs has been the most important

advance of modern times in practical æsthetic.

The question which this simile suggests is full of problems; are these

chemical compounds in the normal æsthetically gifted spectator, or are

they merely mixtures due to our confused recognition of what goes on in

the complex of our emotions? The picture I have chosen is also valuable,

just at the present time, from this point of view. Since it presents in

vivid opposition for most of us a very strong positive (pleasurable)

reaction on the purely æsthetic side, and a violently negative (painful)

reaction in the realm of dramatic association.

But one could easily point to pictures where the two sets of emotions

seem to run so parallel that the idea that they reinforce one another is

inevitably aroused. We might take, for instance, Giotto’s “Pietà.” In my

description of that (p. 110), it will be seen that the two currents of

feeling ran so together in my own mind that I regarded them as being

completely fused. My emotion about the dramatic idea seemed to heighten

my emotion about the plastic design. But at present I should be inclined

to say that this fusion of two sets of emotion was only apparent and was

due to my imperfect analysis of my own mental state.

Probably at this point we must hand over the question to the

experimental psychologist. It is for him to discover whether this fusion

is possible, whether, for example, such a thing as a song really

exists, that is to say, a song in which neither the meaning of the words

nor the meaning of the music predominates; in which music and words do

not merely set up separate currents of feeling, which may agree in a

general parallelism, but really fuse and become indivisible. I expect

that the answer will be in the negative.

If on the other hand such a complete fusion of different kinds of

emotion does take place, this would tend to substantiate the ordinary

opinion that the æsthetic emotion has greater value in highly

complicated compounds than in the pure state.

Supposing, then, that we are able to isolate in a work of art this

purely æsthetic quality to which Mr. Clive Bell gives the name of

“significant form.” Of what nature is it? And what is the value of this

elusive and--taking the whole mass of mankind--rather uncommon æsthetic

emotion which it causes? I put these questions without much hope of

answering them, since it is of the greatest importance to recognise

clearly what are the questions which remain to be solved.

I think we are all agreed that we mean by significant form something

other than agreeable arrangements of form, harmonious patterns, and the

like. We feel that a work which possesses it is the outcome of an

endeavour to express an idea rather than to create a pleasing object.

Personally, at least, I always feel that it implies the effort on the

part of the artist to bend to our emotional understanding by means of

his passionate conviction some intractable material which is alien to

our spirit.

I seem unable at present to get beyond this vague adumbration of the

nature of significant form. Flaubert’s “expression of the idea” seems to

me to correspond exactly to what I mean, but, alas! he never explained,

and probably could not, what he meant by the “idea.”

As to the value of the æsthetic emotion--it is clearly infinitely

removed from those ethical values to which Tolstoy would have confined

it. It seems to be as remote from actual life and its practical

utilities as the most useless mathematical theorem. One can only say

that those who experience it feel it to have a peculiar quality of

“reality” which makes it a matter of infinite importance in their lives.

Any attempt I might make to explain this would probably land me in the

depths of mysticism. On the edge of that gulf I stop.

INDEX

Albigensian crusade, 99

American and Chinese art, 74

Architecture, domestic, 183

----, styles in, 180

Art and Christianity, 87

---- and the Franciscan movement, 87, 88

---- and Poetry, 194

----, associated ideas in, 159

----, classic, 159

----, emotion and form in, 194

----, public indifference to, 168

----, Realistic, 159

----, Romantic, 159

Artist and the community, 168

----, pure, 175

Asselin, 158

Associated ideas in art, 159

Assisi, upper church at, 103

----, great church at, 87

Assyrian art, 80

“Athenæum,” 52

Author and Cézanne, 191

---- and Gauguin, 191

---- and Impressionists, 190

---- and the public, 192

---- and Old Masters, 190, 191

---- and Seurat, 191

---- and van Goch, 191

---- and Mr. Walter Sickert, 190

---- and Mr. Wilson Steer, 190

Author’s æsthetic, 188, 189

---- house, 180

Aztecs and Incas, 70

Babelon, M., 77

Babylon and Nineveh bas-reliefs, 78

Baldovinetti, 126

---- and Ucello, 126

Baldovinetti’s _Madonna and Child_, 126

---- portrait in Nat. Gall., 126

---- _Trinity_; Accademia, Florence, 126

Balfour, Mr., 60

Baroque architect, 136

---- art and Catholic reaction, 138

---- art and Poussin, 138

---- idea and El Greco, 135-139

---- idea and Michelangelo, 136, 138

---- idea and Signorelli, 138

---- in Spanish and Italian art, 138

Bartolommeo, Fra, 164

Bastien-Lepage, 17

Beardsley and Antonio Pollajuolo, 153

---- and Mantegna, 153

---- and Nature, 153

Beardsley’s art, influences on, 153

Beauty, nature of, 193, 194

Beethoven, 19

Bell, Mr. Clive, book on art, 195, 199

Bellini, Giovanni, and Dürer, 133

Berenson, Mr., 100

Bernini and El Greco, 135, 136, 137

Besnard, M., 96, 97

Blake and the Byzantine style, 142

---- and Giotto, 111, 142

---- and the Old Testament, 140, 141

---- and Michelangelo, 141

---- and Tintoretto, 141

---- on poetry, 143

Blake’s temperament, 141

Bleek, Miss, 64

Blow, Mr., 180

Bobrinsky, Prince, 79, 80

Bode, Dr., 134

Bourgeois attitude to art, 168

Bramante, 136

Braque, 158

Bridges, Robert, 147

British public, 190

Browning, 42

Brunelleschi, 4

Bumble, 42

Bushman and Assyrian art, 58

---- and Palæolithic art, 61-63

Byzantine style and Blake, 142

Cabaner, 172

Caravaggio, 5

Cézanne, 42, 158

---- and Delacroix, 173

---- and El Greco, 139

---- and Ingres, 173

---- and Marchand, 184

---- and Poussin, 173

---- and Renoir, 177, 178

---- and Rubens’ method, 173

---- and Tintoretto’s method, 173

---- and Zola, 172

----, criticism of, 156

---- misunderstood by his contemporaries, 169

----, Poussin and El Greco, 138, 139

---- the perfect type of artist, 168, 171

Cézanne’s character, 169, 170, 171

Chateaubriand, 6

_Charpentier family_, by Renoir, 178

Chelsea Book Club, 65

Chinese and American art, 74

---- and Negro cultures, 67

---- art and Matisse, 158

---- landscape, Claude and, 150

---- painting, 21

Chosroes relief, 78, 79

Christianity and art, 87

Cimabue and Giotto, 103, 106, 107_n_

Cinematograph, 13

Cinquecento art and Giotto, 114

Classic art, 159

Claude and Chinese landscape, 150

---- and Corot, 150

---- and Turner, 146

Claude and Whistler, 150

----, Ruskin on, 145, 146

---- and Leonardo da Vinci, 146

---- and Rembrandt, 146

---- “Liber Veritatis,” 149

----, influence of Virgil on, 148, 152

Claude’s articulations, 145

---- figures, 146

---- romanticism, 150

Coco style, 29

Colour, Giotto’s, 114

Conceptual art, 62, 63

Contour in painting, 160, 161

Copée, 172

Corot and Claude, 150

---- as a draughtsman, 165

Corot’s drawing of a seated woman, 165

Cosima Tura, 176

Cosmati, 99, 100, 104

Cossa, 132

Credi, Lorenzo di, and Dürer, 133

Critic’s function, 189

Cubism, 192

---- and Marchand, 186

---- and Ucello, 124

Daddi, Bernardo, and Giotto, 108_n_

Dante, 2, 97, 98, 108, 110, 116

David, 5

“Decorators,” 190

Degas, 20, 176, 190

---- as a draughtsman, 165

Delacroix and Cézanne, 173

Derain, 158, 159, 193

---- and Marchand, 185

Dickens, 175

Dickey Doyle, 153

Doucet, 158

Drama, Italian, beginning of, 101_n_

Drawing of contours, great examples, 166

---- of the figure, 164

---- of Italian Primitives, 163

---- of Renoir and Ingres compared, 178

----, Persian, 163

Druet’s, M., photographs, 158

Duccio and Giotto, 106

Dürer and the Gothic tradition, 129

---- and Leonardo da Vinci, 127

---- and Lorenzo di Credi, 133

---- and Giovanni Bellini, 133

Dürer and Jacopo de’Barbari, 133

---- and Mantegna, 131, 132

---- and Pollajuolo, 133

---- and Raphael, 127

---- and Schongauer, 132

Dürer’s “Beetle,” 164

---- letters and diary, 127

El Greco and Baroque idea, 135-139

---- and Bernini, 135, 136, 137

---- and British public, 134

---- and Cézanne, 139

----, Poussin and Cézanne, 138, 139

Emotion and form in art, 194, 197

England and French Impressionism, 190

English Art considered, 190

Fatimite textiles, 79

Figure drawing, 164

Filippino Lippi, 163

Flaubert, 199

Flemish and Florentine art, 124

---- painting and Giotto, 110

Florentine art, a characteristic of, 125

---- and Flemish art, 124

Forli, Melozzo da, 104

Form in art, 107

Francesca, Piero della, 4

Franciscan movement and art, 87, 88

Francis, St., 2, 87, 88, 112

French art classic, 158, 159, 184

French, English and Russian art compared, 158

Gamp, Mrs., 97

Gauguin, 158, 175

Germans, the, 129

Ghiberti’s commentary, 87

Giorgione, 175

Giotto and Barnardo Daddi, 108_n_

---- and Blake, in, 142

---- and Cimabue, 103, 106, 107_n_

---- and Cinquecento art, 114

---- and classical architecture, 113

---- and Duccio, 106

---- and European art, 115

---- and Flemish painting, 110

---- and Leonardo da Vinci, 116

---- and Lorenzetti, 113

---- and Masaccio, 113

---- and pre-Raphaelitism, 103

Giotto and Raphael, 115

---- and Rembrandt, 110

---- as draughtsman, 115, 116

Giotto’s colour, 114

---- figure of Joachim, 111

---- invention of Tempera, 105

---- _Pietà_, 110, 198

---- place as an artist, 116

Goethe, 197, 198

Gothic tradition and Dürer, 129, 130

Græco-Roman art, 76, 77, 78

Grunwedel, Dr., 76

Guatemala and Yucatan, 71

Head, Henry, F.R.S., 62

Herbin, 158

Hermitage, 79

Holmes, Mr. C. J., 134

Homer, 97

House, author’s, 180

Houses, architects’, 179

----, builders’, 179

----, dwelling, 180

Huxley, 8

Jacquemart-André collection, 123-126

“Jane Eyre,” 185

_Jeremiah_ of Michelangelo, 23

Johnson, Dr., 65

Joyce, Mr., 69, 73, 75

Kaiser Friedrich Museum, 47, 134

----, the, 47

Karlsruhe Museum, 78

Keats, 147

Keene, Charles, as a draughtsman, 165

Kingsborough, Lord, 71

Kraft’s stonework, 129

Krell, Oswald, 130

Kunsthistorisches Akademie, Vienna, 129

Incas and Aztecs, 70

Ingres, 164

---- and Cézanne, 173

---- as a designer, 163

---- as a draughtsman, 162

----, effect of poverty on his art, 162

Ingres’ drawing, _The Apotheosis of Napoleon_, 163

---- painting and drawing compared, 163

Lecoq, Dr., 76

Leeche’s drawings, 28

Lehmann, Dr., 74

Leonardo da Vinci, 4, 24

---- and Claude, 146

---- and Dürer, 127

---- and Giotto, 116

L’Hote, 158

----, M., writings of, 192

“Liber Veritatis” of Claude, 149

Limoges enamels, 77

Lincoln Cathedral, 78

Line, the function of, in drawing, 160

----, qualities of, 115

----, rarity of great design expressed in, 163

Loewy, Prof., 56, 57

Lorenzetti and Giotto, 113

Malatesta, Sigismondo, 87

Mantegna and Beardsley, 153

---- and Dürer, 131, 132

---- and Rembrandt, 132

Marchand, 158

----, a classic artist, 184

---- and Cézanne, 184

---- and Cubism, 186

---- and Derain, 185

Masaccio and Giotto, 113

Matisse, 158, 193

---- and Chinese art, 158

---- as a draughtsman, 167

Maya art, 71, 72, 73

Melozzo da Forli, 105

Meredith, 28

Mesopotamian art, 79

Michelangelo, 19, 23, 24, 109

---- and Baroque idea, 136, 138

---- and Blake, 141

Middle Ages, 29

Millais’ drawing, 165

Milton, 147

Minzel as a draughtsman, 165

Modigliani as a draughtsman, 167

Monet, 17, 190

Money, Mr., 48

Music, 15

----, psychology of, 199

National Gallery, 134

Nature, 24, 25

Naturalists, 190

Navicella mosaic, 104

Negro and European sculpture, 66

Neolithic art, 63

Nuremberg school, 130

Old Testament and Blake, 140, 141

Ottley’s prints, 142

Oxford movement, 6

_Pall Mall Gazette_, 154

_Parapluies, Les_, by Renoir, 176

Patine, 38, 39

Pelliot, M., 76

Perspective, 124, 125

Picasso, 157, 158, 193

_Pietà_, by Giotto, 110

Pindar, 87

Pliny on painting, 160, 161

Podsnap, Mr., 179

Poetry and art, 194

----, Blake on, 143

Pollajuolo, Antonio and Beardsley, 153

----, 147

---- and Dürer, 133

Pompeii, 30, 79

Post-Impressionism, 194

Post-Impressionists at the Grafton Gallery, 191, 193

----, criticism of, 156, 157

Poussin, 159

---- and Baroque art, 138

---- and Cézanne, 173

----, El Greco, and Cézanne, 138

Pre-Raphaelite movement, 190

Primitives, study of, in England, 198

_Primum Mobile_ in Tarocchi prints, 133

Psychologists and art, 54

Public indifference to art, 168

Racine, 147

Raphael, 19, 164

---- and Dürer, 127

Raphael’s “Transfiguration,” 196, 198

Realistic art, 159

Rembrandt, 5, 20, 147

---- and Claude, 146

---- and Giotto, 110

---- and Mantegna, 132

---- as a draughtsman, 165, 166

Rembrandt’s characteristics, 165

Renaissance, 76

Renoir and Cézanne, 177, 178, 190

---- and Titian, 178

Renoir compared to Giorgione and Titian, 175

Renoir’s “Charpentier Family,” 178

---- “Les Parapluies,” 176, 178

Robida, 153

Rodin, 38

Romans, the, 129

Romantic art, 159

Romanticism, Claude’s, 150

Ross, Dr. Denman, 21

Rossetti’s relationship to Millais, 165

Rousseau, 156

Rowlandson’s style in drawing, 165

Rubens, 164, 175

Ruskin, 14, 38

---- on Claude, 145, 146

S. Bonaventura, 87, 101, 102

S. Francis, 2, 87, 88, 112

_S. Peter’s Crucifixion_, by Giotto, 107

Sassanid art, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80

Schongauer and Dürer, 132

Scrovegni, 110

Sculpture, Greek, 57

Shakespeare, 147

Shaw, Mr. Bernard, 41

Shelley, 42

Sickert, Mr. Walter, 175

Sicily, 77

Siegfried, 153

Sigismondo Malatesta, 87

“Significant Form,” 199

Signorelli and Baroque idea, 138

---- and Florence, 126

---- and Ucello, 126

---- and Umbrian art, 126

Signorelli’s _Holy Family_, 126

Smith, Robertson, 9

Song, psychology of, 199

Spectator of a picture, psychology of, 196, 197

Spencer, Herbert, 8, 9

Stefaneschi, Cardinal, 103, 104, 105, 108_n_

Stein, Dr., 76

Storr’s woodwork, 129, 130

Subject picture, 53

Sung, 32

Tahiti, 175

Tarrocchi engravings, 132

Tempera, Giotto’s invention, 105

Tennyson, 24, 26

Tiepolo, 161, 162

Tintoretto and Blake, 141

Titian, 19, 175

---- and Renoir compared, 178

Tolstoy, 16, 18, 19

Tolstoy’s “What is Art?” 193, 199

Todi, Jacopone di, 87

_Tondo_ of Michelangelo, 23

Tongue, Miss, 57, 59

Tura, Cosima, 177

Turner and Claude, 146

Tussaud, Mme., 5

Ucello, 4

---- and Baldovinetti, 126

---- and Cubism, 124

Ucello and Van Eyck, 124

---- and perspective, 124, 125

---- and Signorelli, 126

Ucello’s “St. George,” 123, 125

Vandyke, 164

Van Eyck and Ucello, 124

---- Gogh, 158

Varnish, 139

Vasari, 87, 169

---- and Ucello, 123

Victorians and art, 65

Viollet-le-Duc, 185

Virgil’s influence on Claude, 148, 152

Von Tschudi, 139

Waldus, Petrus, 99, 100

Watteau, 164

Wells, H. G., 36

“What is Art?” by Tolstoy, 18

Whistler, 7

---- and Beardsley, 154

---- and Claude, 150

---- and Ruskin, 190

Whistler’s Impressionism, 190

Whittier, 26

Young, Brigham, 74

Yucatan and Guatemala, 71

Zola, 5

---- and Cézanne, 172

Zuloaga, Señor, 155

THE END

PRINTED IN ENGLAND BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND

BECCLES.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] From notes of a lecture given to the Fabian Society, 1917.

[2] New Quarterly, 1909.

[3] Rodin is reported to have said, “A woman, a mountain, a

horse--they are all the same thing; they are made on the same

principles.” That is to say, their forms, when viewed with the

disinterested vision of the imaginative life, have similar emotional

elements.

[4] I do not forget that at the death of Tennyson the writer in the

_Daily Telegraph_ averred that “level beams of the setting moon

streamed in upon the face of the dying bard”; but then, after all, in

its way the _Daily Telegraph_ is a work of art.

[5] Athenæum, 1919.

[6] Athenæum, 1919.

[7] Reprinted with considerable alterations from “The Great State.”

(Harper. 1912.)

[8] Athenæum, 1919.

[9] Burlington Magazine, 1910.

[10] “The Rendering of Nature in Early Greek Art.” By Emmanuel Loewy.

Translated by J. Fothergill. Duckworth. 1907.

[11] “Bushman Drawings,” copied by M. Helen Tongue, with a preface by

Henry Balfour. Oxford: Clarendon Press. 1909. £3 3_s._ net.

[12] This absence of decorative feeling may be due to the irregular

and vague outlines of the picture space. It is when the picture must

be fitted within determined limits that decoration begins. I have

noticed that children’s drawings are never decorative when they have

the whole surface of a sheet of paper to draw on, but they will design

a frieze with well-marked rhythm when they have only a narrow strip.

[13] This is certainly the case with the Australian Bushmen.

[14] Athenæum, 1920.

[15] Burlington Magazine, 1918.

[16] Thomas A. Joyce, (1) “South American Archæology,” London

(Macmillan), 1912; (2) “Mexican Archæology,” London (Lee Warner),

1914; (3) “Central American Archæology,” London and New York (Putnam),

1916.

[17] _The Burlington Magazine_, vol. xvii., p. 22 (April, 1910).

[18] Burlington Magazine, 1910.

[19] G. Migeon, _Gazette des Beaux-Arts_, June, 1905, and “Manuel

d’Art Musulman,” p. 226.

[20] I cannot help calling attention, though without any attempt at

explaining it, to the striking similarity to these Sassanid and early

Mohammedan water jugs shown by an example of Sung pottery lent by Mr.

Eumorfopoulos to the recent exhibition at the Burlington Fine Arts

Club, Case A, No. 43. Here a very similar form of spout is modelled

into a phœnix’s head.

[21] The following, from the Monthly Review, 1901, is perhaps more

than any other article here reprinted, at variance with the more

recent expressions of my æsthetic ideas. It will be seen that great

emphasis is laid on Giotto’s expression of the dramatic idea in his

pictures. I still think this is perfectly true so far as it goes, nor

do I doubt that an artist like Giotto did envisage such an expression.

Where I should be inclined to disagree is that there underlies this

article a tacit assumption not only that the dramatic idea may have

inspired the artist to the creation of his form, but that the value

of the form for us is bound up without recognition of the dramatic

idea. It now seems to me possible by a more searching analysis of our

experience in front of a work of art to disentangle our reaction to

pure form from our reaction to its implied associated ideas.

[22] _Cf._ H. Thode: “Franz von Assisi.”

[23] Dr. J. P. Richter: “Lectures on the National Gallery.”

[24] One picture, however, ascribed by Vasari to Cimabue, namely, the

Madonna of the National Gallery, does not bear the characteristics of

this group. Dr. Richter’s argument for giving the Rucellai painting

to Duccio depends largely on the likeness of this to the Maesta, but

there is no reason to cling so closely to Vasari’s attributions. If we

except the National Gallery Madonna, which shows the characteristics

of the Siennese school, these pictures, including the Rucellai

Madonna, will be found to cohere by many common peculiarities not

shared by Duccio. Among these we may notice the following: The eye

has the upper eyelid strongly marked; it has a peculiar languishing

expression, due in part to the large elliptical iris (Duccio’s eyes

have a small, bright, round iris with a keen expression); the nose is

distinctly articulated into three segments; the mouth is generally

slewed round from the perpendicular; the hands are curiously curved,

and in all the Madonnas clutch the supports of the throne; the hair

bows seen upon the halos have a constant and quite peculiar shape; the

drapery is designed in rectilinear triangular folds, very different

from Duccio’s more sinuous and flowing line. The folds of the drapery

where they come to the contour of the figure have no effect upon the

form of the outline, an error which Duccio never makes. Finally, the

thrones in all these pictures have a constant form; they are made

of turned wood with a high footstool, and are seen from the side;

Duccio’s is of stone and seen from the front. That the Rucellai

Madonna has a morbidezza which is wanting in the earlier works can

hardly be considered a sufficient distinction to set against the

formal characteristics. It is clearly a later work, painted probably

about the year 1300, and Cimabue, like all the other artists of the

time, was striving constantly in the direction of greater fusion of

tones.

Vision and Design · 第 18 / 19 段