The Subject in Art

(No. 1.)

If Painting and Sculpture delight us like other works of ingenuity,

merely from the difficulties they surmount; like an 'egg in a

bottle,' a tree made out of stone, or a face made of pigment; and the

pleasure we receive, is our wonder at the achievement; then, to such

as so believe, this treatise is not written. But if, as the writer

conceives, works of Fine Art delight us by the interest the objects

they depict excite in the beholder, just as those objects in nature

would excite his interest; if by any association of ideas in the one

case, by the same in the other, without reference to the

representations being other than the objects they represent:--then,

to such as so believe, the following upon 'SUBJECT' is addressed.

Whilst, at the same time, it is not disallowed that a subsequent

pleasure may and does result, upon reflecting that the objects

contemplated were the work of human ingenuity.

Now the subject to be treated, is the 'subject' of Painter and

Sculptor; what ought to be the nature of that 'subject,' how far that

subject may be drawn from past or present time with advantage, how

far the subject may tend to confer upon its embodiment the title,

'High Art,' how far the subject may tend to confer upon its

embodiment the title 'Low Art;' what is 'High Art,' what is 'Low

Art'?

To begin then (at the end) with 'High Art.' However we may differ as

to facts, the principle will be readily granted, that 'High Art,'

_i.e._ Art, par excellence, Art, in its most exalted character,

addresses pre-eminently the highest attributes of man, viz.: his

mental and his moral faculties.

'Low Art,' or Art in its less exalted character, is that which

addresses the less exalted attributes of man, viz.: his mere sensory

faculties, without affecting the mind or heart, excepting through the

volitional agency of the observer.

These definitions are too general and simple to be disputed; but

before we endeavour to define more particularly, let us analyze the

subject, and see what it will yield.

All the works which remain to us of the Ancients, and this appears

somewhat remarkable, are, with the exception of those by incompetent

artists, universally admitted to be 'High Art.' Now do we afford them

this high title, because all remnants of the antique world, by

tempting a comparison between what was, and is, will set the mental

faculties at work, and thus address the highest attributes of man?

Or, as this is owing to the agency of the observer, and not to the

subject represented, are we to seek for the cause in the subjects

themselves!

Let us examine the subjects. They are mostly in sculpture; but this

cannot be the cause, unless all modern sculpture be considered 'High

Art.' This is leaving out of the question in both ages, all works

badly executed, and obviously incorrect, of which there are numerous

examples both ancient and modern.

The subjects we find in sculpture are, in "the round," mostly men or

women in thoughtful or impassioned action: sometimes they are indeed

acting physically; but then, as in the Jason adjusting his Sandal,

acting by mechanical impulse, and thinking or looking in another

direction. In relievo we have an historical combat, such as that

between the Centaurs and Lapithae; sometimes a group in conversation,

sometimes a recitation of verses to the Lyre; a dance, or religious

procession.

As to the first class in "the round," as they seem to appeal to the

intellectual, and often to the moral faculties, they are naturally,

and according to the broad definition, works of 'High Art.' Of the

relievo, the historical combat appeals to the passions; and, being

historical, probably to the intellect. The like may be said of the

conversational groups, and lyrical recitation which follow. The dance

appeals to the passions and the intellect; since the intellect

recognises therein an order and design, her own planning; while the

solemn, modest demeanour in the religious procession speaks to the

heart and the mind. The same remarks will apply to the few ancient

paintings we possess, always excluding such merely decorative works

as are not fine art at all.

Thus it appears that all these works of the ancients _might_

rationally have been denominated works of 'High Art;' and here we

remark the difference between the hypothetical or rational, and the

historical account of facts; for though here is _reason_ enough why

ancient art _might_ have been denominated 'High Art,' that it _was_

so denominated on this account, is a position not capable of proof:

whereas, in all probability, the true account of the matter runs

thus--The works of antiquity awe us by their time-hallowed presence;

the mind is sent into a serious contemplation of things; and, the

subject itself in nowise contravening, we attribute all this potent

effect to the agency of the subject before us, and 'High Art,' it

becomes _then_ and _for ever_, with all such as "follow its cut." But

then as this was so named, not from the abstract cause, but from a

result and effect; when a _new_ work is produced in a similar spirit,

but clothed in a dissimilar matter, and the critics have to settle to

what class of art it belongs,--then is the new work dragged up to

fight with the old one, like the poor beggar Irus in front of

Ulysses; then are they turned over and applied, each to each, like

the two triangles in Euclid; and then, if they square, fit and tally

in every quarter--with the nude to the draped in the one, as the nude

to the draped in the other--with the standing to the sitting in the

one, as the standing to the sitting in the other--with the fat to the

lean in the one, as the fat to the lean in the other--with the young

to the old in the one, as the young to the old in the other--with

head to body, as head to body; and nose to knee, as nose to knee, &c.

&c., (and the critics have done a great deal)--then is the work

oracularly pronounced one of 'High Art;' and the obsequious artist is

pleased to consider it is.

But if, per contra, as in the former case, the works are not to be

literally reconciled, though wrought in the self-same spirit; then

this unfortunate creature of genius is degraded into a lower rank of

art; and the artist, if he have faith in the learned, despairs; or,

if he have none, he _swears_. But listen, an artist speaks: "If I

have genius to produce a work in the true spirit of high art, and yet

am so ignorant of its principles, that I scarce know whereon the

success of the work depends, and scarcely whether I have succeeded or

no; with this ignorance and this power, what needs your knowledge or

your reasoning, seeing that nature is all-sufficient, and produces a

painter as she produces a plant?" To the artist (the last of his

race), who spoke thus, it is answered, that science is not meant for

him, if he like it not, seeing he can do without it, and seeing,

moreover, that with it _alone_ he can never do. Science here does not

make; it unmakes, wonderingly to find the making of what God has

made--of what God has made through the poet, leading him blindly by a

path which he has not known; this path science follows slowly and in

wonder. But though science is not to make the artist, there is no

reason in nature that the artist reject it. Still, science is

properly the birthright of the critic; 'tis his all in all. It shows

him poets, painters, sculptors, his fellow men, often his inferiors

in their want of it, his superiors in the ability to do what he

cannot do; it teaches him to love them as angels bringing him food

which _he_ cannot attain, and to venerate their works as a gift from

the Creator.

But to return to the critical errors relating to 'High Art.' While

the constituents of high art were unknown, whilst its abstract

principles were unsought, and whilst it was only recognized in the

concrete, the critics, certainly guilty of the most unpardonable

blindness, blundered up to the masses of 'High Art,' left by

antiquity, saying, "there let us fix our observatory," and here came

out perspective glass, and callipers and compasses; and here they

made squares and triangles, and circles, and ellipses, for, said

they, "this is 'High Art,' and this hath certain proportions;" then

in the logic of their hearts, they continued, "all these proportions

we know by admeasurement, whatsoever hath these is 'High Art,'

whatsoever hath not, is 'Low Art.'" This was as certain as the fact

that the sun is a globe of glowing charcoal, because forsooth

they both yield light and heat. Now if the phantom of a then

embryon-electrician had arisen and told them that their "high art

marbles possessed an electric influence, which, acting in the

brain of the observer, would awake in him emotions of so exalted

a character, that he forthwith, inevitably nodding at them,

must utter the tremendous syllables 'High Art;'" he, the then

embryon-electrician, from that age withheld to bless and irradiate

the physiology of ours, would have done something more to the purpose

than all the critics and the compasses.

Thus then we see, that the antique, however successfully it may have

wrought, is not our model; for, according to that faith demanded at

setting out, fine art delights us from its being the semblance of

what in nature delights. Now, as the artist does not work by the

instrumentality of rule and science, but mainly by an instinctive

impulse; if he copy the antique, unable as he is to segregate the

merely delectable matter, he must needs copy the whole, and thereby

multiply models, which the casting-man can do equally well; whereas

if he copy nature, with a like inability to distinguish that

delectable attribute which allures him to copy her, and under the

same necessity of copying the whole, to make sure of this "tenant of

nowhere;" we then have the artist, the instructed of nature,

fulfilling his natural capacity, while his works we have as manifold

yet various as nature's own thoughts for her children.

But reverting to the subject, it was stated at the beginning that

'Fine Art' delights, by presenting us with objects, which in nature

delight us; and 'High Art' was defined, that which addresses the

intellect; and hence it might appear, as delight is an emotion of the

mind, that 'Low Art,' which addresses the senses, is not Fine Art at

all. But then it must be remembered, that it was neither stated of

'Fine Art,' nor of 'High Art,' that it always delights; and again,

that delight is not entirely mental. To point out the confines of

high and low art, where the one terminates and the other commences,

would be difficult, if not impracticable without sub-defining or

circumscribing the import of the terms, pain, pleasure, delight,

sensory, mental, psychical, intellectual, objective, subjective, &c.

&c.; and then, as little or nothing would be gained mainly pertinent

to the subject, it must be content to receive no better definitions

than those broad ones already laid down, with their latitude somewhat

corrected by practical examples. Yet before proceeding to give these

examples, it might be remarked of 'High Art,' that it always might,

if it do not always excite some portion of delight, irrespective of

that subsequent delight consequent upon the examination of a

curiosity; that its function is sometimes, with this portion of

delight, to commingle grief or distress, and that it may, (though

this is _not_ its function,) excite mental anguish, and by a reflex

action, actual body pain. Now then to particularize, by example; let

us suppose a perfect and correct painting of a stone, a common stone

such as we walk over. Now although this subject might to a religious

man, suggest a text of scripture; and to the geologist a theory of

scientific interest; yet its general effect upon the average number

of observers will be readily allowed to be more that of wonder or

admiration at a triumph over the apparently impossible (to make a

round stone upon a flat piece of canvass) than at aught else the

subject possesses. Now a subject such as this belongs to such very

low art, that it narrowly illudes precipitation over the confines of

Fine Art; yet, that it is Fine Art is indisputable, since no mere

mechanic artisan, or other than one specially gifted by nature, could

produce it. This then shall introduce us to "Subject." This subject

then, standing where fine art gradually confines with mechanic art,

and almost midway between them; of no use nor beauty; but to be

wondered at as a curiosity; is a subject of scandalous import to the

artist, to the artist thus gifted by nature with a talent to

reproduce her fleeting and wondrous forms. But if, as the writer

doubts, nature could afford a monster so qualified for a poet, yet

destitute of poetical genius; then the scandal attaches if he attempt

a step in advance, or neglect to join himself to those, a most useful

class of mechanic artists, who illustrate the sciences by drawing and

diagram.

But as the subject supposed is one never treated in painting; only

instanced, in fact, to exemplify an extreme; let us consider the

merits of a subject really practical, such as 'dead game,' or 'a

basket of fruit;' and the first general idea such a subject will

excite is simply that of _food_, 'something to eat.' For though fruit

on the tree, or a pheasant in the air, is a portion of nature and

properly belongs to the section, 'Landscape,' a division of art

intellectual enough; yet gather the fruit or bring down the pheasant,

and you presently bring down the poetry with it; and although Sterne

could sentimentalize upon a dead ass; and though a dead pheasant in

the larder, or a dead sheep at a butcher's, may excite feelings akin

to anything but good living; and though they may _there_ be the

excitive causes of poetical, nay, or moral reflexion; yet, see them

on the canvass, and the first and uppermost idea will be that of

'_Food_,' and how, in the name of decency, they ever came there. It

will be vain to argue that gathered fruit is only nature under a

certain phase, and that a dead sheep or a dead pheasant is only a

dead animal like a dead ass--it will be pitiably vain and miserable

sophistry, since we know that the dead pheasant in a picture will

always be as _food_, while the same at he poulterer's will be but a

dead pheasant.

For we have not one only, but numerous general ideas annexed to every

object in nature. Thus one of the series may be that that object is

matter, one that it is individual matter, one that it is animal

matter, one that it is a bird, one that it is a pheasant, one that it

is a dead pheasant, and one that it is food. Now, our general ideas

or notions are not evoked in this order as each new object addresses

the mind; but that general idea is _first_ elicited which accords

with the first or principle destination of the object: thus the first

general idea of a cowry, to the Indian, is that of money, not of a

shell; and our first general idea of a dead pheasant is that of food,

whereas to a zoologist it might have a different effect: but this is

the exception. But it was said, that a dead pheasant in a picture

would always be as food, while the same at the poulterer's would be

but a dead pheasant: what then becomes of the first general idea? It

seems to be disposed of thus: at the first sight of the shop, the

idea is that of food, and next (if you are not hungry, and poets

never are), the mind will be attracted to the species of animal,

and (unless hunger presses) you may be led on to moralize like

Sterne: but, amongst pictures, where there is nothing else to

excite the general ideas of food, this, whenever adverted to,

must over re-excite that idea; and hence it appears that these

_esculent_ subjects might be poetical enough if exhibited all

together, _i.e._, they must be surrounded with eatables, like

a possibly-poetical-pheasant in a poulterer's shop.

Longer stress has been laid upon this subject, "Still Life," than

would seem justified by its insignificance, but as this is a branch

of art which has never aspired to be 'High Art,' it contains

something definite in its character which makes it better worth the

analysis than might appear at first sight; but still, as a latitude

has been taken in the investigation which is ever unavoidable in the

handling of such mercurial matter as poetry (where one must spread

out a broad definition to catch it wherever it runs), and as this is

ever incomprehensible to such as are unaccustomed to abstract

thinking, from the difficulty of educing a rule amidst an infinite

array of exceptions, and of recognising a principle shrouded in the

obscurity of conflicting details; it appears expedient, before

pursuing the question, to reinforce the first broad elementary

principles with what definite modification they may have acquired in

their progress to this point in the argument, together with the

additional data which may have resulted from analytic reference to

other correlative matter.

First then, as Fine Art delights in proportion to the delectating

interest of the objects it depicts, and, as subsequently stated,

grieves or distresses in proportion as the objects are grievous or

distressing, we have this resultant: "Fine Art _excites_ in

proportion to the excitor influence of the object;" and then, that

"_fine art_ excites either the sensory or the mental faculties, in a

like proportion to the excitor properties of the objects

respectively." Thus then we have, definitely stated, the powers or

capabilities of _Fine Art_, as regulated and governed by the objects

it selects, and the objects it selects making its subject. Now the

question in hand is, "what the nature of that _subject_ should be,"

but the _subject_ must be according to what Fine Art proposes to

effect; all then must depend upon this proposition. For if you

propose that Fine Art shall excite sensual pleasure, then such

objects as excite sensual pleasure should form the _subject_ of Fine

Art; and those which excite sensual pleasure in the highest degree,

will form the _highest subject_--'High Art.' Or if you propose that

Fine Art shall excite a physical energetic activity, by addressing

the sensory organism, which is a phase of the former proposition,

(for what are popularly called sensual pleasures, are only particular

sensory excitements sought by a physical appetite, while this

sensory-organic activity is physically appetent also,) then the

subjects of art ought to be draw form such objects as excite a

general activity, such as field-sports, bull-fights, battles,

executions, court pageants, conflagrations, murders; and those which

most intensely excite this sensory-organic activity, by expressing

most of physical human power or suffering, such as battles,

executions, regality, murder, would afford the _highest subject_ of

Fine Art, and consequently these would be "_High Art_." But if you

propose (with the writer) that _Fine Art_ shall regard the general

happiness of man, but addressing those attributes which are

_peculiarly human_, by exciting the activity of his rational and

benevolent powers (and the writer would add, man's religious

aspirations, but omits it as sufficiently evolvable from the

proposition, and since some well-willing men cannot at present

recognize man as a religious animal), then the subject of Fine Art

should be drawn from objects which address and excite the activity of

man's rational and benevolent powers, such as:--acts of justice--of

mercy--good government--order--acts of intellect--men obviously

speaking or thinking abstract thoughts, as evinced by one speaking to

another, and looking at, or indicating, a flower, or a picture, or a

star, or by looking on the wall while speaking--or, if the scene be

from a _good_ play, or story, or another beneficent work, then not

only of men in abstract thought or meditation, but, it may be, in

simple conversation, or in passion--or a simple representation of a

person in a play or story, as of Jacques, Ferdinand, or Cordelia; or,

in real life, portraits of those who are honestly beautiful; or

expressive of innocence, happiness, benevolence, or intellectuality,

but not of gluttony, wantonness, anger, hatred, or malevolence,

unless in some cases of justifiable satire--of histrionic or historic

portraiture--landscape--natural phenomena--animals, not

_indiscriminately_--in some cases, grand or beautiful buildings, even

without figures--any scene on sea or land which induces

reflection--all subjects from such parts of history as are morally or

intellectually instructive or attractive--and therefore

pageants--battles--and _even_ executions--all forms of thought and

poetry, however wild, if consistent with rational benevolence--all

scenes serious or comic, domestic or historical--all religious

subjects proposing good that will not shock any reasonable number of

reasonable men--all subjects that leave the artist wiser and

happier--and none which intrinsically act otherwise--to sum all,

every thing or incident in nature which excites, or may be made to

excite, the mind and the heart of man as a mentally intelligent, not

as a brute animal, is a subject for Fine Art, at all times, in all

places, and in all ages. But as all these subjects in nature affect

our hearts or our understanding in proportion to the heart and

understanding we have to apprehend and to love them, those will

excite us most intensely which we know most of and love most. But as

we may learn to know them all and to love them all, and what is dark

to-day may be luminous to-morrow, and things, dumb to-day, to-morrow

grow voiceful, and the strange voice of to-day be plain and reproach

us to-morrow; who shall adventure to say that this or that is the

highest? And if it appear that all these subjects in nature _may_

affect us with equal intensity, and that the artist's representations

affect as the subjects affect, then it follows, with all these

subjects, Fine Art may affect us equally; but the subjects may all be

high; therefore, all Fine Art may be High Art.

The Germ: Thoughts towards Nature in Poetry, Literature and Art · 第 11 / 90 题