Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
Sidenotes are identified as: [SN: text of sidenote].
Additional Transcriber’s Notes are at the end.
* * * * *
_The Relation of Art to Nature_
* * * * *
_THE RELATION OF ART TO NATURE_
_by John W. Beatty_
_New York
William Edwin Rudge_
1922
* * * * *
_Copyright, 1922
by_ JOHN W. BEATTY
* * * * *
_To my gentle wife this little volume
is affectionately dedicated._
_Contents_
ARGUMENT _Page_ 1
THE ARTIST AND HIS PURPOSE 5
ANCIENT CONCEPTIONS OF ART 13
EVIDENCE OF PAINTERS AND SCULPTORS 19
OPINIONS OF PHILOSOPHERS AND WRITERS 48
SYMMETRY 57
CONCLUSION 67
_Authorities Quoted_
PAINTERS AND SCULPTORS
Kuo Hsi 11th Century
Leonardo da Vinci 1452-1519
Albrecht Dürer 1471-1528
Michelangelo Buonarotti 1475-1564
William Hogarth 1697-1764
Sir Joshua Reynolds 1723-1792
Gilbert Stuart 1755-1828
Sir Thomas Lawrence 1769-1830
John Constable 1776-1837
Jean-Baptiste Camille Corot 1796-1875
Jean François Millet 1814-1875
James Abbott McNeill Whistler 1834-1903
John La Farge 1835-1910
Winslow Homer 1836-1910
Anton Mauve 1838-1888
Auguste Rodin 1840-1915
Abbott Handerson Thayer 1849-1921
Henry Ward Ranger 1858-1916
Giovanni Segantini 1858-1899
WRITERS AND PHILOSOPHERS
Socrates 470-399 B. C.
Plato 427-347 B. C.
Aristotle 384-322 B. C.
Baron Gottfried Wilhelm von Leibnitz 1646-1716
Alexander Gottlieb Baumgarten 1714-1762
Immanuel Kant 1724-1804
Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel 1770-1831
Arthur Schopenhauer 1788-1860
John Stuart Blackie 1809-1895
James Anthony Froude 1818-1894
Jean Henri Fabre 1823-1915
Hippolyte Adolphe Taine 1828-1893
William Angus Knight 1836-1916
Lord James Bryce 1838-1922
Lafcadio Hearn 1850-1904
Maurice Maeterlinck 1862-
Sei-ichi Taki
_Introduction_
_In his very convincing and lucid treatise on the fundamental
principles of art, John W. Beatty gives us a most absorbing theme to
follow--the relation of art to nature, as expressed in their own words
by artists themselves, of different times and creeds; with, too, the
opinions of philosophers and men of letters._
_Himself a well-known painter, Mr. Beatty has been for almost thirty
years the enlightened Director of Fine Arts of the Carnegie Institute,
where, alone in our whole country, are held annually International
Exhibitions of Art. Much of his life has thus been spent in intimate
association with the very best painters and sculptors of our
generation, and his and their opinions and observations are here to be
read with much pleasure and profit by every one interested in art._
_Mr. Beatty is quite right when he says, “Not many able artists
have recorded their opinions.” In conversation, or on the impulse
of the moment they may often speak with great beauty and clarity of
expression, but nearly always tersely and to the point. On the other
hand, the man of letters is more given to analysis and finds more
words, and more beautiful ones, to express his meaning._
_Analysis is perhaps a dangerous thing for the craftsman to toy with.
He must approach nature directly and simply, with concentration that is
absolute. He dissects only that particular fragment of nature which is
before him, and that unconsciously. The precious sensation of closeness
to nature is so fleeting and so fickle, so often not there at all, and
so frightened, that it is easily scared away by the cold voice of the
man with a rule to follow. The ever changing aspect of nature, be it
man or landscape, makes the first impression quickly recorded in the
thumb-box sketch, or with a dozen lines on the back of an envelope, an
invaluable document. Again and again in the painting of a picture we
refer with respect to this first strong impression of nature._
_The words_ character _and_ beauty _are many times repeated in this
book. Both terms are definite and yet how elastic! Rembrandt is the
preëminent example of the complex meaning of the word beauty; many of
his models he found in the Ghetto and among his friends and neighbors,
or, for lack of a model, he painted himself. Surely he has proved to us
that only that which has character is truly beautiful; and we must also
feel in the presence of Rembrandt’s works, his absolute fidelity to
truth._
_On a certain occasion I was in Rodin’s studio when reference was made
to some harsh criticism of one of his nudes. After listening with
impatience Rodin shrugged his shoulders and said: “Why find fault with
me? they should find fault with nature!”_
_And so we return to Mr. Beatty’s contention that the artist has
succeeded when he has imitated the truth and beauty of nature. The word
imitation might seem to limit the artist’s personal vision, which must
be his very own. How very different this personal vision can be came
vividly before me when I visited the Prado in Madrid. In one room are
seen the immortal works of Velasquez, among which are the portraits of
Philip IV and his consort; and in an adjoining room are portraits of
this same Philip and his queen by Rubens, the Fleming, who happened
to be temporarily in Madrid on a diplomatic mission. The Spaniard
saw his sovereigns in all their splendor, but with a solemn dignity,
dark haired and sallow complexioned. While the man from Antwerp saw
the forms more round and amiable, the hair and flesh more blond and
colourful, and unconsciously injected the blood of the Netherlands into
the veins of his Spanish sitters._
_Notwithstanding this personal expression, the predilection of a Rubens
for the more florid colours, of a Velasquez for the more subdued, sober
notes found in nature, it remains true that the end sought by both is
the representation of character as it exists in nature._
GARI MELCHERS.
_Belmont,
Falmouth, Virginia,
January 5, 1922._
* * * * *
“_The realities of Nature surpass our most ambitious dreams._”
AUGUSTE RODIN
_Argument_
My purpose in writing this treatise is to establish, if this be found
possible, a foundation for the belief that the art of the painter and
sculptor is imitative, not creative; that the great masterpieces of
art which have withstood the test of time rest firmly upon the supreme
expression of character and beauty as these qualities are revealed in
man and nature; that it is the mission of art to reveal and make plain
these rare and lovely qualities. The truthful representation of these
qualities constitutes a common factor which binds all great works
together, a fact that is realized in every national gallery of art.
I have chosen to base my argument not upon theory or opinion but upon
the evidence of eminent painters and sculptors who have produced great
works of art.
Not many able artists have recorded their opinions touching the
philosophy of art. On the other hand, writers in abundance have
undertaken to define art. A few early and some modern philosophers
have given profound thought to the subject and bequeathed to us their
opinions. Painters and sculptors, with few exceptions, however, have
confined their efforts to searching for, and revealing by their art,
beauty and character. More is the pity, because opinion supported by
achievement is always more valuable than judgment which rests solely
upon theory or observation.
The great masters who have directed brush and chisel in the performance
of their work must have known what their purpose was; they certainly
knew better than any one else, and they undoubtedly realized how far
they had succeeded, or how far they had fallen short of securing the
qualities which they had discovered and which they had undertaken to
reveal. The evidence of these men is invaluable. Its importance bears
an exact relation to their success in producing great and enduring
works. This is true in every other field of human endeavor and it is
equally true in the field of art. The opinion of the great astronomer
with reference to astronomy is more valuable than that of the layman;
the opinion of the great painter than that of the amateur. The man who
knows any science so perfectly that he can practice it successfully,
the artist who knows his art and nature so well that he can produce
great works of art, these have earned the right to express their
opinions. I think this must be accepted as a fundamental truth. It is
therefore to the painter and sculptor that I turn for judgment. I have
been aided in this inquiry by knowledge of the opinions of many of the
able painters and sculptors of our own time. Intimate discussion has
stimulated further inquiry, and a conviction which was originally based
upon familiarity with the methods and purpose of the painter has been
confirmed.
_The Artist and His Purpose_
During all the great periods of art able men have striven earnestly
to attain a knowledge of character and beauty and to achieve their
truthful representation. Even when the purpose of the artist has been
to express some specific idea or to record some incident or historical
event, the work has lived, not because of the idea conveyed or the
interest which attaches to the subject, but because it has portrayed
character in a powerful manner, or because it has expressed the
qualities of beauty which are inherent in nature. Upon these qualities,
as they have been understood and translated by the artist, has depended
the life of every great painting and work of sculpture. I believe this
to be a fundamental and far reaching truth, accepted almost universally
by painters and sculptors. This, I know, is equivalent to saying that
the chief value of a work of art lies in its power to give aesthetic
pleasure.
These observations may suggest a question as to the relative
importance of a work of art which tells a story or records historical
events as compared with one which appeals solely to the aesthetic
sense or the love of beauty. Human language, it would seem to me, is
the logical method for conveying thought from one mind to another and
offers direct, untrammelled mental contact without the intervention
of form or design of any kind, while the representation of beauty for
beauty’s sake alone is the more direct and effective way of creating
and stimulating in the human heart a love of nature and art.
This, however, is not the question considered in this work. The
question raised is simply this: Has the artist, in representing the
evanescent effects of nature, the manifold beauties and harmonies with
which we are surrounded in this world, or predominant character as
expressed by man, exceeded nature either by virtue of his exceptional
power or as a result of any personal quality which he may impart to the
work?
It is also manifestly true that the greatness of a work of art must
depend upon the mental power of the artist, that power which enables
him to apprehend or discover the essential qualities existing in
nature. It is equally true that every artist, even though wholly
absorbed in the effort to reveal the truth and beauty which exist
in nature, expresses in some degree his own personality. He does
this inevitably, first, by the type of subject he chooses to study
and represent, and, second, but in a less important degree, by the
technical manner employed. This is, of course, well understood by
every one. It is not for a moment disputed. But beyond and above this
personal expression stands, as the chief and highest purpose of the
artist, the representation of truth and character as these do actually
exist.
While the painter has used his art to record history, to tell stories,
and to express emotions and convictions, his chief mission is to
extract from nature her many beautiful forms and harmonies and to
present these in pleasing fashion. In this way the artisan, drawing
upon the great multitude of beautiful forms and colours exhibited
by nature and so lavishly spread everywhere in the animal and plant
creations, cunningly fashions patterns and combinations, weaving these
into rugs and adapting them to the many beautiful objects with which we
are familiar.
Notwithstanding these accepted facts, I am convinced that the great
works of the painter and sculptor, those of supreme importance, rest
not upon any of these devices or expressions of art, but upon the
faithful, unerring and masterly representation of character and beauty
as these do actually exist. The masterpieces of art as they live today
in the national art galleries of the world establish this fact. They
seem to possess a common factor without regard to subject or period
which unites in a common family the great paintings of the entire
history of art. This factor I believe to be the quality of truth.
These great works owe their existence to the fact that they faithfully
represent some great outstanding type, or because they truthfully
reveal the characteristic and essential beauty of nature expressed in
one of her many moods. They are important just in proportion as their
masters have understood these qualities and recorded their impressions
on canvas and in marble.
I know perfectly well that the opinion here expressed is not the one
most widely accepted; it is not the popular view of art; it is not the
view expressed by many writers upon this subject.
The opinion most widely accepted is that the artist creates beauty;
that in some mysterious way, by virtue of a special gift, he does
actually evolve from within his own consciousness forms of grace and
loveliness; that however deeply the artist sinks himself in nature, art
yet remains intensely individual; that in representing nature he adds
to that which he secures from nature a personal quality which becomes
the most important part of the work. This is the theory of art accepted
very generally, but it is not supported by evidence.
The main purpose of this writing is, in fact, to establish by the
evidence of the men who are quoted that their reliance has been solely
upon nature and their success in exact proportion to their knowledge
of nature and their ability to portray her predominant qualities. Let
me repeat, however, that the ability to see and understand nature is
dependent upon mental power. The man of limited mental power will see
little; the one of great power will see much. The latter will apprehend
the subtle, elusive qualities in a way impossible to the former. This,
I know, is equivalent to saying that the great artist must bring to
his task a great mind. This assumption is quite correct. A great mind
is that power which is vaguely described as genius; it is what enables
men to accomplish great things in every field of human endeavor. The
question, therefore, is not whether the great artist possesses superior
power, but rather how important are the inevitable traces of personal
predilection or technical manner revealed in nearly all works of art as
compared with the truthful presentation of the fundamental qualities
the artist has discovered and undertaken to represent.
Let us examine this phase of the question more fully. A painting by
Corot for instance bears, first, the evidence of Corot’s choice of
subject. That which appealed to him in nature he painted. The kind
of thing he loved, the phase of nature he chose, unquestionably bore
evidence of his personal temperament or predilection. By this he
expressed his personal taste, his discriminating judgment, himself, in
fact. If the artist be a man of gentle and sensitive quality, he will
select for representation, as Corot did, a phase of nature which is in
accord with his feeling.
In the second place, a painting by Corot will exhibit in a very obvious
way the manifest impress of the artist’s technical method. In fact, the
manner by which the work is performed, that which is termed technic,
the very manner in which the artist touches the canvas, becomes a
distinguishing and individual characteristic intimately associated with
the artist and easily recognized. However, the technical treatment is
of little significance. It is in an important sense pure mannerism,
often the result of habit or early professional training. In a limited
sense it is the handwriting of the artist. This technical side of a
painting, the obvious and superficial aspect, is, I am convinced,
given by the amateur an importance out of all proportion to its value.
We must, however, deal with this personal phase of a work of art. The
question is how important is this personal expression as compared with
the more profound truth of nature. If we may accept the testimony of
the painters and sculptors who have produced enduring works of art, we
will, I think, be convinced that this quality is not important when
compared with essential truth or predominant character. The artists
whose opinions you will read seem almost without exception to attach
greater importance to the expression of the character of the person
or object represented than to the expression of personal temperament.
Indeed, they seem to be oblivious to the qualities which attract and
occupy the attention of the writer and amateur, but they are insistent
upon the paramount importance of truth.
What this all-important quality is may be further explained by a simple
illustration.
Abraham Lincoln was an outstanding type. The painter or sculptor
cannot by his art enhance either the beauty or strength of Lincoln’s
character. The utmost he can hope to do is to realize that character in
its richness and fullness of power. In everything the artist touches
in his effort to reproduce this character his taste will be displayed,
even in the treatment of details, the adjustment of draperies and
accessories, the appropriateness of gesture or movement; but all
these things, including the technic displayed, will be subordinate to
Lincoln’s character. The great, outstanding, dominant character of
Abraham Lincoln exists as a masterpiece of nature far outranking in
perfection any description or portraiture. The man who best reads or
comprehends this character and who most faithfully represents it, will
produce the greatest work of art. In the effort to do this, the painter
or sculptor will undoubtedly leave traces of his own individuality or
temperament, but these qualities must not be confused with the dominant
character of a Lincoln or given undue importance. The highest purpose
of the artist is to faithfully represent character.
_Ancient Conceptions of Art_
Closely allied to the thought that the painter creates beauty is the
ancient tradition that the artist is inspired to produce works of art.
This conviction had its origin very early in the history of art. In the
time of Praxiteles this belief was entertained by many; it was thought,
for instance, that in the production of the Aphrodite of Knidos the
sculptor was inspired by the goddess herself.
This conception of art doubtless grew out of the fact that the
early art of the Egyptians and Greeks was largely devoted to the
representation of deities and to the erection of temples which
should be their shrines. This association of art with the gods and
their temples doubtless contributed to the belief that the artist
was inspired or that he possessed a superior power or the gift of
inspiration.
[SN: _Hegel_]
Closely allied with this thought was the conception expressed by Hegel
with reference to a distinction between the external and material
forms of art and the spirit which he suggests permeates the work and
of which it is a manifestation. Hegel, although accepting the theory
that “art has the vocation of revealing the truth in the form of
sensuous artistic shape,” speaks of the union of the material with the
spiritual in a manner, which although quite true in abstract reasoning,
contributes to this impression. Discussing Architecture as a Fine
Art, he wrote: “The material of architecture is matter itself in its
immediate externality as a heavy mass subject to mechanical laws, and
its forms remain the forms of inorganic nature, but are merely arranged
and ordered in accordance with the abstract rules of the understanding,
the rules of symmetry. But in such material and in such forms the ideal
as concrete spirituality cannot be realized; the reality which is
represented in them remains, therefore, alien to the spiritual idea, as
something external which it has not penetrated or with which it has but
a remote and abstract relation.... Into this temple now enters the God
himself. The lightning-flash of individuality strikes the inert mass,
permeates it, and a form no longer merely symmetrical, but infinite and
spiritual, concentrates and molds its adequate bodily shape.” No one
today in the presence of a superb relic of architecture asks whether or
not it is the abiding place of a spirit. It is accepted as expressing
the spirit of beauty and is enjoyed for this alone.
Hegel’s conception of a work of art, frequently expressed in his
philosophy, was that the content or idea is the important thing. This
conception conformed to early art because painting and sculpture were
employed primarily to express ideas.
With the development of the Landscape School of Art and the enjoyment
of art on the purely aesthetic side, modern thought has materially
changed. Gradually our appreciation of the beautiful for its own sake
has developed. The influence of this movement has reacted upon all
phases of art expression, and even those works which express ideas in
the sense of subject matter have come to be judged upon the basis of
aesthetic beauty, rather than with reference to the idea or content as
thus defined.
Therefore what Hegel says applies to the early conception of art rather
than to that of the present time.
[SN: _Socrates_]
Another conception of art suggests the union of the beautiful with
the good. The philosophy of Socrates teaches this. He regarded the
beautiful as coincident with the good, and both of them as resolvable
into the useful. He does not seem to have attached importance to
the immediate gratification which a beautiful object affords to
perception and contemplation, but rather to have emphasized its power
of furthering the more necessary ends of life.
These early theories and conceptions with reference to art may in some
degree account for the prevalence of an impression, even in our own
time, that the artist is inspired or that he creates his masterpiece
as the result of some supernatural power. It has always seemed to the
inexperienced that the creation of a work of art implies an element of
mystery or represents something inexplicable. What is to the painter a
natural process becomes mysterious. Nothing existed on the blank canvas
and behold, presently, there appears a picture simulating life. Having
no knowledge of the methods employed, or of the years of patient labor
required to secure the technical ability to represent the actual truth
and spirit of natural objects, the result seems far removed from the
ordinary. Thence it is but a step to the point of view that the artist
is one “inspired.”
Although the conception of a work of art which places it above nature
is very old, I do not recall a definition made under this impression
which seems satisfactory. There is always apparent the effort to
compromise or bring together two distinct conceptions--the one
attributing to the work a quality superior to nature and the other
demanding that it be a truthful representation of nature. Defining
a work of art as something superior to nature, and at the same time
insisting that it represent nature faithfully is an inconsistency
eternally cropping out.
[SN: _John Constable_]
John Constable touched this subject with remarkable acumen and
expressed his conviction with precision when he said: “It appears to me
that pictures have been over-valued; held up by a blind admiration as
ideal things, and almost as standards by which nature is to be judged
rather than the reverse; and this false estimate has been sanctioned by
the extravagant epithets that have been applied to painters, as ‘the
divine,’ ‘the inspired,’ and so forth. Yet, in reality what are the
most sublime productions of the pencil but selections of some of the
forms of nature, and copies of a few of her evanescent effects; the
result, not of inspiration, but of long and patient study, under the
direction of much good sense.”
This, then, is my argument: First, that art is the expression of
supreme or predominant character and the representation of grace and
harmony as these qualities exist in nature; and, second, that the
truthful rendering of these qualities is the high mission of the
painter and sculptor.
_Evidence of Painters and Sculptors_
If we will now turn to the evidence bearing upon this subject, we will
discover what I have already indicated, namely, that the able artists
who have expressed opinions touching the philosophy of their art have
done so in no uncertain terms, and that the opinions which refer art
to nature as the highest source seem convincing. We will also discover
that not only do the majority of able painters agree upon what art
really is, and express their opinions with clearness and precision, but
that many of the philosophers of recent and ancient times define art in
the same forceful way.
Let us first examine opinions expressed by painters and sculptors.
[SN: _Michelangelo_]
Michelangelo wrote: “In my judgment that is the excellent and divine
painting which is most like and best imitates any work of immortal God,
whether a human figure, or a wild and strange animal, or a simple and
easy fish, or a bird of the air, or any other creature.... To imitate
perfectly each of these things in its species seems to me to be nothing
else but to desire to imitate the work of immortal God. And yet that
thing will be the most noble and perfect in the works of painting which
in itself reproduced the thing which is most noble and of the greatest
delicacy and knowledge.” Michelangelo thus reduces the philosophy of
art to the simple problem of selection, and the faithful and truthful
representation of the dominant, the graceful, the harmonious, and the
beautiful in nature. His statement, which so simply, even quaintly,
expresses the opinion of a great master whose works have commanded
the homage of the world during nearly four centuries, is worthy of
the most careful consideration. It reveals his reliance upon nature
without confusion of thought or pretension of any kind. There are here
no intricate definitions of art or complex theories concerning his
method of creating his masterly representations of the best he found in
nature--“the thing which is most noble!”
The universality of this profound truth and of its independence of
local conditions and circumstances is emphasized by the fact that
another great master of another race, one whose technical methods
and choice of subjects differed widely from those of Michelangelo,
expressed the same reliance upon nature. [SN: _Albrecht Dürer_]
Albrecht Dürer was a contemporary of Michelangelo, but he worked under
widely different conditions. It is the great fundamental quality of
truth so quaintly commended by Michelangelo that distinguishes the
works of Albrecht Dürer. Albrecht Dürer wrote: “Life in Nature proves
the truth of these things; therefore consider her diligently, guide
thyself by her, and swerve not from Nature, thinking that thou canst
find something better of thyself, for thou wilt be deceived. For Art
standeth firmly fixed in Nature, and whoso can thence rend her forth,
he only possesseth her.”
[SN: _Leonardo da Vinci_]
We find in Leonardo da Vinci’s notebook reference to this same
principle. He recommends application to the study of the works of
nature and advises the student to withdraw as far as possible from
the companionship of others in order that he may more earnestly
and effectively do this. His sage advice emphasizes the importance
of study. “The eye, which is called the window of the soul, is the
chief means whereby the understanding may most fully and abundantly
appreciate the infinite works of nature.... All visible things derive
their existence from nature, and from these same things is born
painting.”
[SN: _William Hogarth_]
Another painter who has written his opinion upon this subject is
William Hogarth, who said: “Nature is simple, plain, and true, in all
her works, and those who strictly adhere to her laws, and closely
attend to her appearances in their infinite varieties, are guarded
against any prejudiced bias from truth.”
[SN: _Sir Joshua Reynolds_]
Of the great painters who have touched upon the philosophy of art in
their writings, no one has written, shall I say, more fluently than
has Sir Joshua Reynolds. He may even be said to have been eloquent.
His lectures prepared for the students of the Royal Academy have
been famous for a century and a half. They have not only inspired
generations of art students with a keener interest in art, but they
are probably the most helpful utterances upon the subject given to the
world in his time or since. It seems to me, however, that, as is often
the case where great facility of expression is practiced, Reynolds
employs a term which, without clear definition, confuses the mind.
This is true where he frequently uses the term “genius.” The term is
associated in popular belief with the power to create works of art.
Although using a term which is at least subject to this interpretation,
Reynolds definitely denies to the human mind this power, asserting that
the power to create is simply the power to imitate nature. Reynolds
wrote: “I am on the contrary persuaded that by imitation only, variety,
and even originality of invention, is produced. I will go further;
even genius, at least what generally is so called, is the child of
imitation.” He further says: “The study of nature is the beginning and
the end of theory. It is in nature only we can find that beauty which
is the great object of our search; it can be found nowhere else; we can
no more form any idea of beauty superior to nature than we can form an
idea of a sixth sense, or any other excellence out of the limits of
the human mind.” Reynolds again writes: “Invention, strictly speaking,
is little more than a new combination of those images which have been
previously gathered and deposited in the memory: nothing can come of
nothing: he who has laid up no materials can produce no combinations.”
[SN: _John Constable_]
John Constable, a contemporary of Reynolds, and to whose judgment we
have already referred, further expressed his opinion upon this subject.
A statement of principle by him seems to be conviction crystallized.
Constable, although unaccustomed to writing, even unaccustomed to
discussion, because he was a man of quiet and simple life, seems to
have thought profoundly; and when the rare occasion to express his
opinion did come he condensed within a few words a great fundamental
principle with unerring precision. His definition of the purpose
and method of the artist cannot, I think, be excelled for accuracy
or fullness of meaning. He wrote: “In art, there are two modes by
which men aim at distinction; in the one, by a careful application to
what others have accomplished, the artist imitates their works, or
selects and combines their various beauties; in the other, he seeks
excellence at its primitive source, nature. In the first, he forms a
style upon the study of pictures, and produces either imitative or
eclectic art; in the second, by a close observation of nature, he
discovers qualities existing in her which have never been portrayed
before, and thus forms a style which is original. The results of the
one mode, as they repeat that with which the eye is already familiar,
are soon recognized and estimated, while the advances of the artist
in a new path must necessarily be slow, for few are able to judge of
that which deviates from the usual course, or qualified to appreciate
original studies.” There is here no mystery or ambiguity. This is the
statement of a profound truth by a great painter who knew perfectly his
reliance upon nature. It was prompted by the conviction of a great mind
which saw only the underlying fact and abjured all trivialities and
hair-splitting theories. In his mental attitude and grasp, Constable
was like Winslow Homer, a man of few words, one given to much thought
and to firm convictions.
[SN: _Sir Thomas Lawrence_]
In one of his lectures at the Royal Institution of Great Britain,
Constable said: “It was said by Sir Thomas Lawrence, that ‘we can never
hope to compete with nature in the beauty and delicacy of her separate
forms or colours, our only chance lies in selection and combination.’”
[SN: _Gilbert Stuart_]
Gilbert Stuart expressed a like reliance upon nature when he said: “You
must copy nature, but if you leave nature for an imaginary effect, you
will lose all. Nature cannot be excused, and as your object is to copy
nature, it is the height of folly to work at anything else to produce
that copy.”
[SN: _Corot_]
Corot was equally assured of the importance of this principle to an
artist. He said: “Truth is the first thing in art, and the second, and
the third.”
[SN: _Millet_]
Let us take the opinion of another able painter, that of Millet, who
said: “Men of genius are, as it were, endowed with a divining-rod.
Some discover one thing in nature, some another, according to their
temperament.... The mission of men of genius is to reveal that portion
of nature’s riches which they have discovered, to those who would
never have suspected their existence. They interpret nature to those
who cannot understand her language.”
“I should like to do nothing which was not the result of an impression
received from the appearance of nature, either in landscape or figures.”
“I should express the type very strongly, the type being, to my mind,
the most powerful truth.”
These opinions are at once simple and comprehensive. They express the
thoughts of men who have achieved great works. Indeed, I have never
heard the able master of art say otherwise than that he has striven
with all his power, sometimes in despair, to wrest from nature the
subtle beauties of form and colour possessed by her and discovered by
those who have the power to perceive and understand these qualities.
Nature is the supreme standard, attained to only in part. We may accept
nature as the source of all beauty and harmony in art and rest assured
that the stream has never risen above its source.
The opinions here quoted do not differ materially from those expressed
by painters of our own time.
[SN: _Whistler_]
I recall that Whistler upon the occasion of one of my visits expressed
an opinion upon this subject. Whistler’s “White Girl,” “Girl at the
Piano” and many other works are such notable examples of truthful
representation as to give weight to his opinion. The absolute certainty
with which the several parts of these pictures exist in relation to
each other cannot be overstated.
In response to my inquiry regarding the most important quality in
the art of the painter, Whistler said: “Art is the science of the
beautiful. The parts of nature bear a certain relation to each other,
and this relation is as true as a mathematical fact. People sometimes
say my pictures are dark. That depends upon whether or not the subject
was dark; whether the conditions made it dark. If a dark or low toned
phase of nature is selected, then the picture must be absolutely true
to those conditions.”
“There it is, the subject. Certain relations exist between the value
notes, and these relations must be reproduced absolutely. Two and two
make four--that is a simple truth in mathematics as it is in nature.
Two and two make four--the trouble is that many painters do not see
that two and two make four. They do not see this fine relationship
which results in a simple truth. Not seeing, they try all kinds of
numbers.”
Turning from the easel in front of which we were standing, Whistler
lifted a book from the table with a quick, almost nervous action, and
as he opened it said with a quizzical expression, “It is all in here.”
The book was the “Gentle Art of Making Enemies.” Tuning quickly to the
paragraph he had in mind, he read, “Nature contains the elements, in
colour and form, of all pictures, as the keyboard contains the notes
of all music. But the artist is born to pick, and choose, and group
with science, these elements, that the result may be beautiful.” He
continued to read for a good part of an hour. Whistler by Whistler
was an inimitable and rare treat. The slightest shade of meaning was
expressed with great delicacy, by inflection and gesture.
At the end of very many years of study and observation, Whistler’s
sensitive appreciation and power of selection were extraordinary. The
most subtle and harmonious qualities in nature made an irresistible
appeal to him. He has described this faculty as the power to pick and
choose. By the very choice of many of his subjects he was enabled to
eliminate all insignificant details and thereby to render the harmonies
of nature as they appeared to him. He described his method or mental
attitude with reference to nature when he said: “As the light fades and
the shadows deepen all petty and exacting details vanish, everything
trivial disappears, and I see things as they are, in great strong
masses.”
This represents Whistler in the presence of subdued and gentle
qualities in nature, but it was the same Whistler, without modification
or change in his attitude with respect to nature, who rendered with
such startling realism and absolute fidelity to truth in his marvellous
etchings the shipping, the city, and the river Thames. Under the
blazing light of noonday the masts and rigging of the ships, the forms
and details of the hulls, even the tile upon the roofs of the city
houses were distinctly seen. He recorded his impressions manifestly
without the slightest deviation from the simple truth of form and
value. No one who has studied Whistler’s set of the Thames etchings
will for an instant dispute this statement. The quality of simple truth
is so astonishingly present in every line and form in these works that
no argument is needed touching this point. The Whistler who made these
etchings, the Whistler who painted the “White Girl” and the “Girl
at the Piano,” must be reconciled with the Whistler who painted the
evening symphonies representing the river, the “Portrait of Sarasate,”
and other works of subdued and gentle qualities. The simple truth is
that Whistler was as faithful and scientific in the one case as in the
other, and that the result depended upon his choice of subject, and
the time, and effect observed. I am told that in his later period
he sought after and discovered means of securing the more gentle
aspects of nature; that he toned and diffused the light in his studio
scientifically by the use of semi-transparent window curtains. However
this may be, it is undoubtedly true that he did rely upon the effect
actually before him and that he sought to represent the subdued effect
in his studio or the gentle light of evening so beautifully described
by him in his “Ten O’Clock.” It would be difficult to imagine a more
beautiful pen picture than this description by Whistler. It indicates
his love for the gentle and harmonious qualities in nature.
“When the evening mist clothes the riverside with poetry, as with a
veil, and the poor buildings lose themselves in the dim sky, and the
tall chimneys become campanili, and the warehouses palaces in the
night, and the whole city hangs in the heavens, and fairyland is before
us--then the wayfarer hastens home; the workingman and the cultured
one, the wise man and the one of pleasure, cease to understand, as they
have ceased to see, and Nature, who, for once, has sung in tune, sings
her exquisite song to the artist alone, her son and her master--her son
in that he loves her, her master in that he knows her.”
[SN: _Abbott Thayer_]
This power to select and represent the beautiful qualities in nature,
a power which is the result of repeated efforts, has been defined by
Abbott H. Thayer with rare skill and poetic beauty. “It is as though
a man were shown a crystal, a perfect thing, gleaming below depths of
water--far down beyond reach. He would dive and dive again, driven by
his great desire to secure it, until finally, all dripping, he brought
it up. But that in the end he could bring it--a perfect thing--to us,
was possible solely because he had first seen it, gleaming there.
Others might dive and dive, might work and labor with endless patience
and endless pain, but unless they had first seen the crystal--unless
they had been given this divine gift of seeing--this vision--they would
come up empty-handed. The occasional so-called genius does not make
the crystal, but he alone sees it, where it lies gleaming below depths
of water, and by his effort brings it to us. The whole question is how
absolutely, how perfectly, the artist sees this vision.”
“After the artist has lived, for a certain period, in worship of some
particular specimen or type of the form of beauty dearest to him,
this crystal-like vision forms, clearer and clearer, at the bottom
of his mind, which is, so to speak, his sea of consciousness, until
at last the vision is plainly visible to him, and the all-strain and
danger-facing time has come for putting it into the form in which as
one of the world’s treasures it is to live on.”
When asked whether the artist has ever been granted a vision of any
beauty which is not based upon the beauty of nature, Thayer exclaimed
emphatically, “No, no, no! I don’t see the slightest material for any
such conception.”
And when the question was further put--granted that the artist has
the gift of seeing beauty in nature to which others are blind, is
his picture Art in proportion as he truthfully records the beauty of
the nature that he sees? Mr. Thayer answered, “Yes. Everything in
art, in poetry, music, sculpture, or painting, however fantastic it
looks to people who are not far enough on that road, is nothing but
truth-telling, true reporting of one or another of the great facts of
nature--of the universe.”
The ability to see, as Thayer suggests, is the very foundation of
the artist’s power. It is this power of seeing which enables him to
discover truth and beauty, and it is the skill of the trained master
which enables him to reproduce these for the delight and inspiration of
his fellows.
That men are endowed by inheritance with varying degrees of mental
power is a self-evident fact. No one will dispute this; it comes within
our common experience. Providence has been lavish in the bestowal of
extraordinary powers upon the few, but it remains everlastingly true
that even with these success depends upon effort. Nothing is more fully
established than this truism. The records of successful men in all
periods and in every avenue of life bear testimony to this fact.
To the artist, seeing is the all important thing, and to him there is
no mystery either in the development of this power or in the result
obtained. To him it is simply a matter of logical evolution, the result
of the day’s work well done. He begins his career as a student by
laboriously copying nature. His first studies are, as a rule, hard and
unsympathetic. I have not discovered an exception to this rule. In the
beginning the art student does not even see colour in its fullness and
beauty. Gradually he acquires greater power of perception. He discovers
beautiful and harmonious colours in nature which were unseen at first.
He realizes the exquisite grace of line to be found on every hand but
unperceived before--the movement, charm, and beauty of natural forms.
New beauties are revealed from day to day; new harmonies are seen
and felt. Presently the inharmonious becomes distasteful; the ugly,
intolerable; the offensive, a distress. He comes into the presence of
nature with a new vision. Her beauties are revealed to him. He feels a
thrill in the love he bears for the exceptional and profound beauty of
an evening sky or a grey day. He never talks about inspiration or soul,
although he has searched out the very soul of the landscape. He simply
seeks with every power at his command, as Constable, borrowing the
thought from Wordsworth, expressed it, “to give ‘to one brief moment
caught from fleeting time’ a lasting and sober existence, and to render
permanent many of those splendid but evanescent Exhibitions which are
ever occurring in the endless varieties of Nature.”
The sculptor, I think, in some such manner lies in wait for the grace
and charm of movement, the supreme expression of character and of
harmony, as an animal lies in wait for its prey. When one or all of
these qualities are seen he seizes his chisel and strives to fix what
he has discovered in permanent form.
The artist, looking back over twenty or thirty years of continuous and
earnest study, of repeated and laborious effort, and of failures and
successes, realizes that the power of perception and selection which he
now possesses is the result of these years of observation and labor. He
also realizes that he has never quite attained to the full height of
his ambition to represent truthfully the supreme qualities of beauty
which he has learned to discover in nature.
In the selection of subjects for his works and in the production of
arrangements or combinations representing either grace, beauty of
colour and form, or essential character, the painter or sculptor is
aided by two very powerful influences.
The first of these is his inherited or acquired taste. Step by step,
precept upon precept, first as a student in the art school, then as
an artist, this faculty known as taste is cultivated, increased,
until with rare discrimination and judgment he selects, “picks and
chooses,” as Whistler said, the things of beauty and harmony, being
guided all the while by the unwritten law of harmony of which we are
all conscious. To arrive at this consummation of the artist’s highest
endeavors is not an easy task.
His course may be, and often is, a very delightful and agreeable
one, but it is one of infinite effort and labor. Before the painter
acquires this knowledge or power which enables him to discriminate
with judgment and taste, selecting those forms and colours expressive
of harmony, grace and beauty, he must have served an apprenticeship of
many long years. The sculptor who would aspire to the exquisite and
discriminating taste of a Rodin, who observes with patience and who
seizes with marvellous skill upon the very essence of grace as it is
expressed by the human figure, must travel the same tedious road. If
the sculptor would read and know character as does a Saint-Gaudens, he
must travel many a weary mile over the path which leads to perfection
in art.
The second powerful influence helping the artist to acquire knowledge
is, as Constable suggested, art itself. The student while pursuing the
plodding course of training in the art school and later in a wider
field as an artist, is not only searching out in nature the qualities
of grace and harmony, but his eyes are constantly turned in the
direction of the accumulated records of art. He studies with assiduous
care and thought in the great works of all times, the qualities, the
harmonies, the character wrested from nature by the able painters
and sculptors of the past. Myriads have tried and failed to know and
master nature during the past few hundred years, and only the few who
have succeeded have left the record of their success. All the weak
productions have gone into oblivion. To these really great works the
painter and sculptor turn again and again, patiently, persistently,
unfalteringly, sometimes through hours of silent study at other times
by earnest effort to copy, but always with a single purpose in
mind--to know and master the secrets of the masters. Little by little,
always referring the master to nature for confirmation or proof, the
artist struggles upward to a more consummate understanding of the works
of nature, but he never forsakes or belittles this supreme source of
all his power and knowledge.
[SN: _Winslow Homer_]
I recall asking Winslow Homer if he did not think the beauty existing
in nature must be discovered and reproduced by the painter. Quick as a
flash he answered: “Yes, but the rare thing is to find a painter who
knows a good thing when he sees it.”