When the great wave of impressionism rose and flooded the land,

carrying music, literature, and the drama before it, plastic art as

well as pictorial was caught up too, and whirled into a variety of

strange forms. Auguste Rodin led the new movement in sculpture, his

manner being copied with varying degrees of success by lesser lights,

and like all new movements run to foolish extremes by incompetent

followers. His heroic group, “The Bourgeois of Calais,” will indicate

his style. From extreme realism on one side, with portrait statues in

the last detail of modern costume, silk hats, kid gloves, and in one

case holding a cigar, to the vague suggestions of a shapeless mass

of marble, out of which protrude unfinished limbs and half-developed

heads, sculpture has been pushed from side to side, but is settling

into a vigorous, steady, onward movement, in which the best men of all

nations stride along together. In the limits of a short article it is

impossible to mention all deserving names, but a few will serve as

types, and the Americans are well worthy to head the list.

Daniel French’s grand majestic golden figure of Liberty, towering

above the Court of Honor, the imperial hostess of the World’s Fair at

Chicago, placed him at once on a pedestal of fame. From the prominence

of his beautiful Columbian Fountain opposite the golden Goddess,

Frederick MacMonnies became known the land over. His greatest late

work is the crowning of the soldiers’ and sailors’ memorial arch for

Prospect Park, Brooklyn, with a colossal quadriga of Triumph and groups

of the army and navy. Augustus St. Gaudens, though a cosmopolitan,

is truly an American sculptor of the first rank, whose statues of

Admiral Farragut in New York, Lincoln in Chicago, and the sturdy

Puritan, Chapin, in Springfield, Mass., are well known. Olin Warner is

another distinctively American product, although he had the advantage

of some training in Paris. His work is French in technique but not

French in spirit, having the native traits of freedom and originality,

as shown in his figure of William Lloyd Garrison, and later in his

relief portraits on the art building at the Columbian Fair. This

great occasion offered opportunities to American sculptors of which

they took full advantage, showing the high rank to which they were

entitled. It made an American of Carl Bitter, the talented Austrian,

whose decorations on the Pennsylvania Railroad Station, Philadelphia,

are well known. It added further lustre to the name of John J. Boyle,

whose heroic “Indian Mother” in Fairmount Park, and seated statue of

Benjamin Franklin, are matters of just pride to Philadelphians. It gave

prominence to such men as Lorado Taft, with his graceful work on the

Horticultural Building; Philip Martiny, on the Agricultural Building;

the great Columbus quadriga, by E. C. Potter and Daniel French, whose

beautiful relief of “Death Staying the Hand of the Sculptor” is a

masterpiece. All visitors to the White City will remember the vigorous

animal studies by Edward Kemys, and the Indian figures of A. C.

Proctor. The sculptural commissions of the Congressional Library in

Washington have produced a remarkable collection of works by talented

Americans, and every great exhibition brings interesting examples from

those already named, and such others as Herbert Adams, Edwin Elwell,

Bessie Potter, with her dainty little statuettes, portrait work by

Charles Grafly, Catherine Cohen, C. E. Dallin, strange visionary

suggestions, in the Rodin manner, by George Bonnard, and an array of

lesser names too numerous to mention.

[Illustration: THE WASHINGTON MONUMENT, FAIRMOUNT PARK.]

For this reason, but few of the notable names of modern foreigners

can be given. However, Hamo Thornycroft, of England, must not be

overlooked, whose famous “Mower” is much admired; nor Onslow Ford, more

youthful and romantic in style. John Henry Foley, of Dublin, has had

a pronounced effect on English sculpture, being a successful teacher,

including among his pupils several distinguished women, among them the

Princess Louise and the Earl of Elgin’s granddaughter, Miss Grant.

George Tinworth’s terra cotta reliefs must conclude the list of English

works. A few Russians have reached eminence, mainly by animal studies.

Antocolski, a Jew of Wilna, of poorest parentage, has done powerful

figure work of a serious, rather melancholy sort, the most important

being a “Christ Bound.” What is best in modern Italian and German work

is practically French, and of the French themselves the list is too

long to complete. A few must suffice, such as Jean Alexandre Falguière,

who aspires, like Carpeaux, to give vitality by means of vigorous

action to his figures. Emanuel Frémiet has worn with some distinction

the mantle descended from Barye’s shoulders. Vidal, another pupil of

Barye, was blind for twenty years, yet gained two medals for correct

anatomy in his modeling. Carrier Belleuse’s “Hebe Asleep” is an example

of the delicate style, and Alfred Boucher shows the other extreme in

his rendering of sturdy masculine figures, toiling or racing, striving

to present in sculpture the picture of human struggle for existence,

as did Millet in his paintings. These materialistic studies represent

the fight for the bread and breath of life, while the impressionist

contortions of the Rodin school try to suggest the conflict of

emotions, good and bad, and the battle of spiritual and physical

desires and development.

III. CERAMICS AND GLASS WORK.

From time immemorial to the present day men have been fashioning shapes

of clay, experimenting with different kinds, different degrees of heat,

and different chemical combinations to form glazes and colorings. The

fundamental processes of pottery making have changed but little since

prehistoric times, and wall pictures of the days of the Ptolemies show

the potter’s wheel whirling much as it does at present, although, of

course, many modern inventions have been made to facilitate different

forms of work. In the famous Sèvres factories in France, established

under royal patronage and still remaining government property, a modern

device has rendered possible the making of large vases of extremely

thin ware. To prevent the delicate paste of which these are made from

collapsing by its own weight before it can harden, the vase or jar is

moulded in an air-tight chamber, the mouth of the object sealed, and

the air exhausted from the chamber, leaving the object in a vacuum. The

air contained in itself is sufficient to hold up the sides until they

harden and danger of collapse is over, when it can be fired. Attempts

were made in vain to equal the delicacy of the Chinese egg-shell ware,

when, one day an educated Chinese visitor to the factories observed the

method employed, and exclaimed, “This is the way we make those cups,”

and, taking a mould, he dipped it into the liquid paste, rinsed it

around and emptied it at once. A thin film like a soap bubble remained

in the mould, which hardened enough to form the dainty ware the workers

had been trying without success to produce; so the Chinese method was

at once adopted. About the middle of the last century an impetus of

development in ceramic art appeared all over the continent of Europe

and in England. This was probably due to the discovery, in different

places, of kaolin or the fine clay of which porcelain is made, which

stimulated the pottery industry and caused the establishment of many

factories which are still working to-day. The Dresden works, founded

in 1700, were hidden in an old fortress, and their secrets jealously

guarded. After about a century they went into decay, but in 1863 were

revived and reëstablished in large new buildings of their own, where

dainty flowered ware is produced, which has again come into popular

favor. Italian ceramics are apt to be florid and overloaded with

decoration, that called “majolica” deriving its name from the island

of Majorca, where it was first made. “Fayence” comes from Faenza, and

the French form of the name, “faïence,” has been used to designate

porcelain in general. The town of Limoges, in France, has been a centre

of ceramic art since 1773, when a French firm established a factory for

the production of a peculiarly fine ware, made possible by the superior

quality of the kaolin found in the neighborhood. In 1839 a lady in

New York showed the Haviland firm a cup of delicate ware, asking them

to match it for her. It was so much finer than anything they had seen

that they desired to import some for their own business. With this end

in view, Mr. David Haviland took the cup and went to France trying to

find where it had been made. He was directed to Limoges and, in the

factories there, he tried to have English shapes and decorations copied

in the exquisite ware. The conservatism and slow methods of the place

were not equal to his demands, and he therefore established a factory

of his own, which, since the middle of the century, has been the most

important in the town.

In England, the most celebrated potteries are all over a century old,

and the ceramic art has been developed to the highest degree both in

technical and artistic directions. The works of the Doulton firm, who

own many potteries, are particularly rich in color, and decoration,

those from their factory at Lambeth being especially fine. So also

are the Coalport wares, celebrated for their rich blue color, the

Royal Worcester and the Crown Derby. In these English factories, and

also in those on the Continent, artists of great skill are employed

as decorators, and in the Wedgwood works the delicate cameo figures

in white relief on a tinted ground were originated by the famous

sculptor, John Flaxman. In America, the Trenton potteries turn out

a vast quantity of wares of varying degrees of artistic excellence,

and one factory has the secret of an old Irish ware, the Belleek, of

indescribable delicacy, like an iridescent sea shell, long thought

to be a lost art. The Rookwood pottery, of most artistic quality

in design and color, is made in Cincinnati, and was the invention

of a woman who has trained a school of girls as decorators; as has

also the Tiffany firm in New York for their marvelous glass work. An

adequate description of the work of this firm would fill a book, as

they have developed undreamed-of possibilities in the use of glass

for decorative purposes. They have revived forgotten arts of coloring

and invented new processes of treatment, that give results like

fairy work, no two pieces being alike. These and many other forms of

industrial art products are brought to a high plane of perfection

nowadays, although the word “art” is grievously abused, being applied

to everything salable, from writing paper to soap. The great schools

and institutions which teach the arts and industries combined are doing

vast good, however, in improving public taste and teaching the world

to discriminate between true art and false, and their influence can

already be felt in higher standards of decoration in articles of common

daily use.

IV. INDUSTRIAL ARTS.

Closely following painting comes black and white art in various

forms, either reproductive or original work, and it is difficult to

discriminate between fine art and handicraft in the many processes

employed. Engraving on metal has long been known, and steel was

considered an especially valuable method of reproducing paintings

until within a generation. Etching is another old form of black and

white work, and is still popular, though less so than formerly.

Wood engraving during this century has passed through many stages

of development, and in the illustrations of books and magazines has

been brought to a high standing as a fine art. It is still used in

many ways, but all those processes that require line work by hand are

being superseded by the photo-type processes, of which there are many

kinds. The making of plates or blocks for printing required skilled

hand work, and the engravers and wood-cutters were necessarily artists

themselves, so that while they were copying the work of others they

were also producing works of art themselves. The plates and prints

were, therefore, valuable and expensive, and, as modern haste grew more

and more to demand cheap quick work, the old careful style of working

gave way to mechanical methods of greater speed. With the development

of photography and its application to the engraver’s art, while a

certain individual artistic character in the work was lost, the actual

copying of painting in all the details of light, shade, and half tones

has been carried to a high degree of perfection. By what is known as

photogravure, every tiny brush mark and every different tint of color

is reproduced with scientific accuracy in black and white. This is

accomplished by having a photograph of the painting taken on a gelatine

film, which is suspended in a bath of acid in the line of an electric

current. This current, playing over a sheet of copper, sets free the

molecules of metal that are deposited upon the film, and filling all

the little inequalities of the surface, produce what is practically

a cast of the photograph in copper. The plate, thus secured, is gone

over by hand and finished here and there with engraver’s tools, and

from this prints may be duplicated to any extent. In engraved plates

the design is cut into the metal, incised lines being either drawn by

hand with a sharp point, called “dry point” work, or eaten in by acids,

the remaining surface of the plate being protected from the acid by

a greasy film. In wood-cutting, the blocks show a reverse process,

the design being left standing in fine lines, while the remaining

surface is cut away, so that a wood-cut is in reality a carving in low

relief. The modern electrotype processes produce a similar result on

a metal block by the action of acid, a method capable of most speedy

work and therefore in demand among the multitude of daily publications

illustrating current events. Of course these hasty results can scarcely

be called fine art, but they are developments of artistic industries,

calculated to meet certain needs of our busy civilization.

[Illustration: PHOTOGRAPHIC VIEW OF NEW YORK CITY AND HUDSON RIVER,

TAKEN FROM 26TH STORY OF PARK ROW BUILDING.]

For more artistic effects, various forms of lithography have given

beautiful results. This valuable process was accidentally discovered in

1796, by a young Bohemian, Aloys Senefelder, of Prague. Desiring to

write a list, and having no paper, he scrawled on a fine stone floor

tile a few words, and later on, coming to remove them, he bethought

him of an experiment with acid on the stone. This he tried, finding

the stone eaten away all around his writing, leaving that raised in

sufficient relief to print from, the lettering being done with a greasy

writing substance that repelled the acid. Later experiments proved

that the eating away of the stone was not necessary if the design were

made with an oily material and the rest of the surface kept moist with

a weak solution of acid. A greasy printing ink being applied would

stick only to the oily design and not to the acidulated surface, which

process made possible the printing from flat stones, which were not

so liable to wear out as the relief designs. Senefelder died in 1824,

living long enough to see his invention in use throughout the world,

although of course he could not know the improvements that photography

would bring. On the centennial anniversary of this great discovery

in 1896, exhibitions of lithographic works were held in London and

Paris, and the possibilities and developments shown. Mr. James McNeill

Whistler has made many very interesting experiments with it, as have

also Mr. Joseph Pennell and Mr. Hubert Herkomer. The latter has made

innumerable experiments and inventions in his busy artistic career,

and has just recently perfected an improvement on lithography which he

calls “plate printing,” and which has been dubbed by the irreverent

the “Herkotype” process. It is simply painting in a peculiar oily ink

on a metal plate, which, while the ink is moist, is dusted over with

a fine powder which adheres to every brush mark on the surface. One

ingredient of this powder is a metal that is electrically conductible,

and, after the excess of powder is brushed off, the plate, with what

remains sticking on the oily surface, is placed in an electrotype

bath. The copper deposited thereon by the electric current hardens

and forms a negative of the original painting, which can be stripped

from the plate and used in a printing-press, giving an absolutely

faithful reproduction of the artist’s handiwork. A similar process,

called “algraphy,” has been invented by Mr. Scholz, of Mayence, who

has developed the possibilities of aluminum for plate work, the

advantage of this material over stone or other metal being its extreme

lightness. These processes are especially valuable to artists who can

work in black and white, as their own original conception is perfectly

reproduced without the possibility of misconception by some copyist, as

exists where a painting is interpreted by an etcher or engraver.

Of the new processes or improvements on the old, that have arisen

because of the discovery of photography, it may be said their name is

legion. Photography itself is rapidly being developed into a fine art,

and has become one of the most important factors of modern existence.

It combines science, art, and industry, and is equally necessary to

all these occupations. While it is difficult to state what was the

first attempt that led to the suggestion of photography, it may be

supposed the experiments of the Swedish scientist Scheele were among

the first. He found that the action of the sun’s ray blackened silver

chloride, and others experimenting after him, at the beginning of

the century, had glimmering ideas of the possibility of a new art.

As has so often happened with the dawning of some great idea, some

new appreciation of a great natural law, the thought was working in

many minds, and the discovery seemed to be almost simultaneous in

several places. As early as 1802 Wedgwood published in the “Journal

of the Royal Institute” an “account of a method of copying paintings

on glass and of making profiles by the agency of light on nitrate of

silver, with some remarks by Sir Humphry Davy.” These gentlemen were,

however, unable to fix the impressions they procured, and a Frenchman,

De Niepce, seems to have been the first to succeed in this direction.

In 1826, learning that M. Louis Jacques Daguerre was experimenting on

the same lines, he conferred with him and they formed a partnership.

The latter seems to have been the more businesslike of the two, and

the process they evolved became known as the “Daguerreotype.” De

Niepce died in 1833, and Daguerre continued the partnership with his

son Isidore, making many improvements, and becoming really the pioneer

of modern photography. The extent of advance may be calculated from

Daguerre’s own remark, that “a landscape requires seven or eight hours

to be photographed, but a single statue or monument, if strongly

lighted, can be taken in about three hours.” Comparing this with the

instantaneous camera work of to-day, that gives us the lifelike moving

figures of the kinetoscope, will illustrate the change wrought in two

thirds of a century. The earliest portrait work was slow and tedious,

the first portrait in New York probably being produced by Dr. Draper,

the scientist, although the celebrated Professor Morse was vastly

interested in the new science or art, and advanced its cause in this

country.

From the beginning of photographic experiments, the greatest desire has

been felt to photograph in color, and numberless attempts with more or

less success have been made, but the processes are mainly slow and

very expensive. A new method of photo-printing in color, however, has

recently developed very artistic possibilities. This is accomplished

by means of three plates, one for each of the three primary colors;

the negative having been made and the plate prepared for printing in

each color, the inks of each color are applied separately. One printing

produces a red impression, directly on this comes a yellow impression,

and on top of that is put a blue; and as all gradations of color are

composed of various proportions of these three primary tints, the

“overlaying” of the three inks produces a picture containing all the

variety of the original subject. A still more recent discovery makes an

impression upon a glass plate that gives all three colors on the same

plate; but this process is a secret, and is too new to be classed among

the successes of industrial art as yet.

One of the later and more notable uses of photography is found in

its application to the purposes of astronomy, an evolution in modern

science, which, although still in its infancy, has already produced

wonderful results. About the middle of the century photographs of the

moon were secured by Warren De la Rue and other astronomers, which

greatly facilitated studies of the earth’s satellite, and these were

followed by photographs of the sun and the sun’s corona during eclipse.

It was not, however, until Professor Henry of the Smithsonian Institute

originated the idea of uniting the camera with the telescope that

the marvelous possibilities of stellar photography were discovered.

It is not too much to say that this discovery has revolutionized

the science of astronomy, extending the field of human observation

into the realm of the infinite. By the aid of clockwork attachments,

the telescope is made to follow the apparent motion of the star to

which it may be directed, throughout the night, if desired, and the

sensitive photographic plate is exposed to the action of light during a

corresponding period. “Each image, however faint, has a comparatively

long time on the sensitive surface, and therefore exerts a cumulative

action.” The result is that stars are pictured by the camera which no

human eye has ever seen. It is estimated that the camera has revealed

double the number of stars discovered by the most powerful telescopes.

In 1887, at a convention of astronomers held in Paris, it was resolved

to photograph the entire skies, with the purpose of making a new

stellar atlas to include the latest discoveries among the heavenly

hosts. With this object the firmament was charted in squares, and each

observatory of importance throughout the world was assigned certain

of these squares to work on. This monumental labor is still going on,

and it will necessarily be extended well into the first quarter of the

twentieth century.

The epoch-marking paper of Dr. Röntgen, in which he announced the

discovery of the X-ray, was made public in the latter part of 1895.

It immediately attracted the attention of the scientific world, and,

since that date, endless successions of experiments have been made with

the marvelous ray in all civilized countries. The X-ray produces no

noticeable effect on the retina of the eye, and we therefore acquire

knowledge of it through indirect agencies. One of these agencies is the

photographic plate, on which, under certain conditions, the ray acts

somewhat in the same manner as does a ray of light. It is not a ray of

light, in the ordinary sense, as it penetrates opaque bodies which

light cannot traverse. Just what it is scientists are not yet ready

to state, but its discoverer defines it as “a longitudinal vibration

of luminiferous ether.” This vibration will traverse many substances

opaque to light, as wood, paper, vegetable and animal tissues and

fabrics, as wool, cotton, silk, etc.; and, if then directed upon a

photographic plate, will produce an image there. The resulting picture

is not of the object traversed by the ray, but of any intervening

object which it does not pass through. As a consequence, the picture

is the image, so to speak, of a shadow, and, hence has been called a

“shadowgraph.” To illustrate, if the ray is directed through a human

body, it will give a “shadowgraph” of the bones, or of a bullet or

piece of metal, if such foreign substance be encountered on its way.

Again, the ray will traverse a diamond and cast no shadow, but it will

not pass through the finest imitation ever made, the “shadowgraph”

showing the manufactured article.

THE CENTURY’S ADVANCE IN SURGERY

BY J. MADISON TAYLOR, M.D., and J. H. GIBBON, M.D.,

_Surgeon in Pennsylvania and Children’s Hospitals_.

Triumphs and Wonders of the 19th Century: The True Mirror of a Phenomenal Era A volume of original, entertaining and instructive historic and descriptive writings, showing the many and marvellous achievements which distinguish an hundred years of material, intellectual, social and moral progress · 第 64 / 76 段