These works all deserve careful study, as they differ in man

Transcriber’s Note

Superscripts are shown as ^{es}; italics are enclosed in _underscores_.

HELLENISTIC SCULPTURE

[Illustration: 1]

[Illustration: 2]

HELLENISTIC

SCULPTURE

BY

GUY DICKINS, M.A.

SOMETIME FELLOW AND LECTURER OF ST. JOHN’S COLLEGE, OXFORD

AND LECTURER IN CLASSICAL ARCHAEOLOGY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD

WITH A PREFACE

BY

PERCY GARDNER, LITT.D., F.B.A.

LINCOLN AND MERTON PROFESSOR OF CLASSICAL

ARCHAEOLOGY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD

OXFORD

AT THE CLARENDON PRESS

1920

INTRODUCTORY NOTE

Guy Dickins wrote these chapters on Hellenistic Sculpture as a brief

sketch of the period to which he hoped to devote years of study. They

foreshadow some of the theories which he intended to work out, and for

that reason we believe that they will be useful to the student. There

are obvious omissions, but no attempt has been made to fill up gaps in

the manuscript, such as paragraphs on the Barberini Faun or the Attic

Gaul, which were left blank in 1914.

The illustrations, which naturally must be limited in number, have

been selected by me mainly on the principle of reproducing the less

accessible pieces of sculpture while giving references to standard

works for the others.

In preparing my husband’s manuscript for publication I have to

acknowledge with gratitude the help of many friends. To Professor Percy

Gardner I am particularly indebted for valuable advice and for his

kindness in writing a preface to the volume; to Miss C. A. Hutton for

her counsel throughout; and to Mr. Alan Wace for sending me photographs

from Athens. I have also to thank the Hellenic Society, the Committee

of the British School at Athens, and Dr. Caskey of the Boston Museum

for permission to reproduce certain photographs.

MARY DICKINS.

OXFORD, March, 1920.

PREFACE

Among the losses which Oxford has suffered from the war, none is

more to be regretted than that of the author of this volume. As an

undergraduate, twenty years ago, Guy Dickins gave up his intention

of entering the Indian Civil Service in order to devote himself to

the study of Classical Archaeology, an allegiance from which he never

swerved. In 1904 he went as Craven Fellow to the British School of

Athens, and for five years lived mostly in Greece, studying and

exploring. In 1909 he returned to Oxford as a Fellow of St. John’s

College, and Lecturer in Ancient History. In 1914 he was appointed

University Lecturer in Classical Archaeology; but before he could take

up the duties of the post the great call came, and he obeyed it at

once. A most efficient and able company commander, he served in the

King’s Royal Rifle Corps. In July 1916 he died of wounds received in

the battle of the Somme.

Before the war Dickins had been occupied in tasks of research, and in

preparation for a teaching career. He had published several papers,

and a volume of the catalogue of the Acropolis Museum. He had visited

most of the museums of Europe, and brought back a large collection of

photographs, which his widow has presented to the Ashmolean Museum.

He was especially interested in Greek sculpture, and had intended

to collect materials for a history of art in the Hellenistic Age,

a subject which has been neglected, but which is of the greatest

importance. Several of his papers, such as those on the followers of

Praxiteles and on Damophon of Messene, show in what direction his mind

was working, though at the same time he was ready to take part in all

the projects and the excavations of the School of Athens.

The present volume, alas, is the only fruit which the study of

antiquity is likely to reap from such continued and thorough

preparation. Every reader will regret that it was not written on a

far larger scale. But it was planned as part of a complete history of

ancient sculpture. No doubt, had he lived, Dickins would have rewritten

it in a more complete form. But as it stands it is far too valuable to

lose, full of suggestion, and pointing the way to important lines of

discovery. In my opinion it contains the best that has been written on

the subject; and one rises from the reading of it with a keen regret

that the author could not bring his harvest to completion.

Dickins possessed in a high degree two qualities necessary for the best

work in archaeology. He was distinctly original, always preferring to

look at things in a light not borrowed from books or teachers but his

own. And he was at the same time of cool judgement and strong in common

sense. One of his fellow officers told me that whenever he was in doubt

as to the course to be followed in attack or defence he consulted

Dickins, and accepted his advice. He did not, like many young

archaeologists, delight in starting brilliant hypotheses; but was ever

content in coming nearer to the truth, and setting it forth in orderly

and sober fashion. Such qualities would have made him an invaluable

factor in the teaching of archaeology in England. I am told that the

undergraduates of his college always felt that he set before them a

high standard, and had no sympathy with anything which was pretentious

or meretricious. The same qualities appeared in two or three courses of

lectures on recent excavation, which he gave at the Ashmolean Museum.

I add as an appendix a list of Dickins’s published works, with a

summary of their purpose and contents. They are not great in extent;

he was not a rapid worker; but every one of them is worthy of careful

reading, and does something to advance our knowledge of Greek art and

ancient life.

PERCY GARDNER.

CONTENTS

PAGE

PREFACE vii

I. THE SCHOOL OF PERGAMON 1

II. THE SCHOOL OF ALEXANDRIA 19

III. THE RHODIAN SCHOOL 35

IV. THE MAINLAND SCHOOLS DURING THE HELLENISTIC AGE 53

V. GRECO-ROMAN SCULPTURE 68

APPENDIX. A LIST OF THE PUBLISHED WORKS OF THE AUTHOR 89

INDEX 95

ILLUSTRATIONS

1. Hermaphrodite. Constantinople _Frontispiece_

2. Marsyas. Constantinople _Frontispiece_

_Facing page_

3. Dancing Satyr of Pompeii. Naples 8

4. Ludovisi Gaul. Rome, Museo Nazionale 8

5. Head of a Dead Persian. Rome, Museo Nazionale 12

6. Gaul’s Head. Cairo 12

7. Group from the Great Frieze of the Altar at Pergamon: Giant

and Dog. Berlin 12

8. Group from the Telephos Frieze at Pergamon: Telephos and

Herakles. Berlin 12

9. Apollo of Tralles. Constantinople 16

10. Ephebe of Tralles. Constantinople 16

11. Venus Anadyomene from Cyrenaica. Rome, Museo Nazionale 20

12. Sarapis of Bryaxis. British Museum 20

13. Girl’s Head from Chios. Boston, Fine Arts Museum 20

14. Bearded Head. Rome, Museo Capitolino 22

15. Zeus of Otricoli. Rome, Vatican 22

16. Isis. Louvre 22

17. Priest of Isis. Rome, Museo Capitolino 24

18. Capitol Venus. Rome, Museo Capitolino 24

19. Ariadne. Rome, Museo Capitolino 26

20. Inopos from Delos. Louvre 26

21. Dwarf from the Mahdia Ship 30

22. Old Woman. Dresden 30

23. Grimani Relief. Vienna 30

24. Nile. Rome, Vatican 30

25. Aphrodite and Triton. Dresden 34

26. Bronze Athlete from Ephesos. Vienna 34

27. Praying Boy. Berlin 38

28. Resting Hermes. Naples 38

29. Hero Resting on his Lance. Rome, Museo Nazionale 42

30. Jason. Louvre 42

31. Draped Figure from Magnesia. Constantinople 44

32. Eros and Psyche. Rome, Museo Capitolino 44

33. Draped Figure by Philiskos from Thasos. Constantinople 44

34. Victory of Samothrace. Louvre 46

35. Chiaramonti Odysseus. Rome, Vatican 50

36. Menelaos and Patroclos. Florence, Loggia dei Lanzi 50

37. Youthful Centaur. Rome, Museo Capitolino 52

38. Bearded Centaur. Rome, Museo Capitolino 52

39. Hermes of Andros. Athens, National Museum 54

40. Themis of Chairestratos. Athens, National Museum 54

41. Hermes from Atalanta. Athens, National Museum 54

42. Sleeping Hermaphrodite. Rome, Museo Nazionale 56

43. Victory of Euboulides. Athens, National Museum 58

44. Athena of Euboulides. Athens, National Museum 58

45. Group by Damophon (restored) 60

46. Anytos. Athens, National Museum 62

47. Artemis. Athens, National Museum 62

48. Veil of Despoina. Athens, National Museum 62

49. Poseidon of Melos. Athens, National Museum 64

50. Venus of Capua. Naples 64

51. Appiades of Stephanos. Louvre 72

52. Torso Belvedere. Rome, Vatican 72

53. Athlete of Stephanos. Rome, Villa Albani 72

Figs. 3, 7, 8, 15, 27, 28, and 53 are taken from casts in the Ashmolean

Museum; figs. 4, 5, 11, 16, and 42 are from photographs by Alinari;

figs. 12 and 21 are from photographs by the Hellenic Society; figs.

20, 30, 34, and 51 are from photographs by Giraudon; figs. 23 and 26

are from photographs by Frankenstein; fig. 29 is from a photograph by

Anderson; figs. 36 and 50 are from photographs by Brogi; fig. 45 is

reproduced by permission from the _Annual of the British School at

Athens_, vol. xiii, Pl. XII.

I

THE SCHOOL OF PERGAMON

Most of the writers on Greek art agree in calling the Hellenistic

period an age of decadence. The period is a long one, lasting from the

death of Alexander to the Roman absorption of the Hellenistic kingdoms,

i.e. from about 320 to later than 100 B.C. The lowest limit is marked

by the Laocoon group, and the fact that some critics have seen in that

wonderful monument the climax of Greek art may make us pause in a hasty

generalization. The decadence of the Hellenistic age is due simply to

its exaggeration of certain tendencies already present in the fourth

century, tendencies which accompany the inevitable development of all

art gradually away from the ideal and gradually closer to realistic

imitation of nature. As long as the technical skill of the Hellenistic

artist shows no sign of abating, it is unfair and untrue to call

his work decadent. The term is only justly applicable when loss of

idealism or growth of frivolity in subject is accompanied by a decline

in execution, by a want of thoroughness, and by a desire to shirk

difficulties.

It is true to say that Greek art on the mainland enters on a period of

decadence in the third century, for its execution and expression grow

steadily worse after 250 B.C., but it is interesting to note that it

reverts to a greater idealism. The last great artist of the mainland,

Damophon of Messene, might have been a member of the school of Pheidias

save for an inadequate mastery of the chisel.

On the other hand, the schools of Pergamon, Alexandria, and Rhodes show

no falling off in technical skill as long as they remain independent

of Rome. Even their idealism does not wholly decline, for the Gallic

victories of Attalos and Eumenes brought about an idealist revival in

Pergamene art associated with the decoration of the great altar. Rhodes

remained ever wedded to the athletic ideal. Alexandria delighted most

in scenes of _genre_ and realistic imitations of nature. But all turned

out work of marvellous quality, and it is mainly a vagary of fashion

in criticism that now induces so many authorities to label as decadent

wonderful masterpieces of sculpture like the Victory of Samothrace,

the kneeling boy of Subiaco, or the Silenos with the young Dionysos.

Works so full of human nature and so rich in sympathy may well claim

to replace by their romantic appeal the classical feeling of the fifth

century. It is only when romance becomes sentimentality that it meets

with just condemnation.

The outstanding feature of the history of Greek sculpture during the

Hellenistic period is the transference of its vital centres from the

mainland to the new kingdoms of the Diadochi on the east and south and

to the great new free state of Rhodes. The chief cause was an economic

one. Alexander’s campaigns brought about a revival of prosperity and

wealth in the Greek world, but among his friends and not among his

enemies. Athens was always his enemy and the enemy of his Macedonian

successors. Consequently during the whole period from the death of

Alexander to the Roman conquest Athens was either under Macedonian rule

or in danger of Macedonian attack. It was Macedonian policy to keep her

weak and isolated, and her trading supremacy began to be transferred

to the island of Delos. The great days of Attic art passed with the

death of Praxiteles and the coming of Alexander. In the Peloponnese the

pupils of Lysippos carried on into the third century the traditions of

the Sikyonian school, but we can see from such knowledge as we possess

of their activities that the wealth and fame of the new kingdoms were

already calling the artists to abandon the impoverished towns of the

mainland. The Peloponnese also opposed Alexander and his successors,

and Macedonian garrisons held the chief fortresses of the country. We

find Eutychides of Sikyon working for Antioch, and Chares working at

Lindos in Rhodes. After the date given for the pupils of Lysippos in

296 B.C., Pliny makes the following significant statement: ‘cessavit

deinde ars, ac rursus Olympiade CLVI (156 B.C.) revixit.’[1] For 150

years the history of artistic development must be studied on the

eastern side of the Aegean.

After the preliminary conflicts between the successors of Alexander

for the partition of the empire a number of new states arose, which

are known to us usually as the kingdoms of the Diadochi or Successors.

Of these the three most important were Macedonia, Syria, and Egypt,

under the rule of Antigonids, Seleucids, and Ptolemies respectively.

Of smaller importance, but quite independent and self-sustaining, were

Bithynia, Pergamon, and the island republic of Rhodes, the latter being

the only one which maintained its Hellenic democratic institutions.

The attitude of these states towards art differs remarkably. Macedonia

remained always a military monarchy in a condition of almost constant

frontier war, and was wholly uninterested in artistic developments.

Syria seems from the first to have fallen under Semitic and oriental

influences, which destroyed its appreciation of the purer forms of

Greek art. Bithynia, Pontos, and Cappadocia were barbarian rather

than Greek. As a result, we find that the old artistic traditions are

maintained prominently in three only of the new states: Pergamon,

the home of the very Hellenic race of the Attalids; Rhodes, whose

pure Hellenic descent was untouched; and Alexandria, which became

practically a Greek town in the midst of an older Egyptian civilization.

The kingdom of Pergamon included the area of the old Ionian cities,

and inherited, therefore, an artistic tradition as old as its own

existence. It is no matter for surprise that its art-loving monarchs

should have founded a great library and a great school of sculpture in

open rivalry with the richer resources of Ptolemaic Alexandria. The

art of Pergamon is well known to us from the magnificent groups and

figures of the Gallic dedications of Attalos I after his victories

about 240 B.C., and from the marvellous frieze of the altar excavated

_in situ_ by the Germans, which belongs to the period of Eumenes

II and the early second century. But before we come to these later

developments of Pergamene art, it is important that we should discover

the earliest tendencies and predilections of the Pergamene court in

the first half of the third century. We are told[2] that the most

remarkable work of Kephisodotos, the son of Praxiteles, was his

‘symplegma’ at Pergamon--probably an erotic group--which was noteworthy

for its extraordinarily naturalistic rendering of the pressure of

the fingers into the flesh. Such erotic groups of nymphs and satyrs

or hermaphrodites exist in our museums, and are ultimately derived

from this type of statue. Actual discoveries at Pergamon support

this conception of early third-century Pergamene art. The well-known

Hermaphrodite in Constantinople (Fig. 1) and a beautiful girl’s head

in Berlin[3] show the extreme delicacy in the rendering of flesh and

the fondness for a sensual body treatment which we might expect from an

Ionian version of the schools of Scopas and Praxiteles. The existence

of such a school in Ionia in the late fourth century is highly

probable. The Pergamene school of the early third century would seem to

be the later natural development of the creators of the Ephesos columns

and the Niobids. Scopaic expression and Praxitelean flesh treatment

are the hall-marks of the school. Another work of importance for the

early Pergamene period is the Crouching Aphrodite type, so popular

in Roman times. Of this statue Pliny tells us: ‘Venerem lavantem se

Daedalus fecit.’[4] This Daedalus was a Bithynian artist of the early

third century, who must have fallen under the general influence of the

prevalent Pergamene school. His Aphrodite[5] shows exactly the artistic

tendencies of the early Pergamene school. The motive is unimportant and

frivolous--a _genre_ motive of a girl washing herself--but it is used

for the purpose of demonstrating the technical skill of the artist in

displaying the nude female form. The artist does not use all his skill

in the effort to produce a noble or even a romantic ideal. The subject

is immaterial, provided it affords a chance of showing his technical

skill. The crouching attitude is a new one in art, and one well adapted

for exhibiting the human body in all its variety. It appears again in

the Attalid dedications, and was evidently a favourite at Pergamon.

Another example is in the well-known Knife-Grinder of the Uffizi,[6]

part of a great group of Marsyas, Apollo, and the Scythian slave,

which we can certainly connect with this period of Pergamene art. The

Knife-Grinder himself is a copy and not an original. That is made clear

by his late plinth, in spite of his magnificent workmanship. But the

finer copies of the hanging Marsyas, which belongs to the group, are

in a Phrygian marble, betraying their Pergamene origin. These copies

of the Marsyas are divided into two types: a so-called ‘red’ type

(Fig. 2), made of the Phrygian marble, in which the expression of

agony is more marked, and a white type[7] in which the face is less

distorted. A theory has been put forward that the white type represents

an early third-century prototype, while the red type is a Pergamene

variation of rather later date.[8] We may, however, hesitate to see

sufficient difference in the two types to make so wide a distinction.

The white type may be merely a less masterly adaptation of the red.

An Apollo torso[9] in Berlin from Pergamon with the right hand

resting on the head agrees with a marble disc in Dresden[10] showing

a similar figure confronted by the hanging Marsyas. We may therefore

associate this figure as the third member of the group with Marsyas

and the Knife-Grinder.[11] The Apollo is a seated figure of distinctly

Praxitelean influence. The keen expression of the Knife-Grinder and

the agonized face of the Marsyas may equally well be attributed to

Scopaic teaching. We have a good example of this mixed tradition in

early Pergamene art. Technically we are at once compelled to notice the

immense advance in realism and anatomical study. The hanging Marsyas

shows a correct appreciation of the effects of such a posture on

swollen veins and strained abdomen. The corner of the mouth is drawn up

in agony; the forehead is corrugated with rows of wrinkles; the hair,

even on the chest, is matted with perspiration. One would say that so

remarkable a statue could only be studied from nature, and one recalls

the stories of Parrhasios, who is said to have used an actual model

for his Prometheus Bound.[12] We are long past the time when sculptors

worked from memory. Even Praxiteles was said to have made his Cnidian

goddess with Phryne as a model. In the Knife-Grinder we may perhaps

detect some of the earliest traces of that exaggeration of the muscles

which will so soon affect athletic art.

One of the most important of the Pergamon finds was the little bronze

satyr,[13] which has enabled us to associate with Pergamon a whole

host of satyr types of more or less similar style. The Dancing Satyr

of Pompeii (Fig. 3) and Athens, the Satyr of the Uffizi clashing

cymbals,[14] with its replica in Dresden, and the Satyr turning round

to examine his tail[15] are all variants of the new artistic cult of

the satyr, a cult which seems to have had a Pergamene origin.[16]

The satyr gave to the Pergamene artist just that opportunity for the

display of wild and somewhat sensual enthusiasm which he wanted,

for new and original poses, and for combination with his nymphs and

bacchanals. In Phrygia especially orgiastic manifestations of religion

were the regular practice, and dancing was both wild and universal. The

new artistic conceptions show the clear influence of this spirit on the

more restrained art of the fourth-century schools. The Dancing Maenad

of Berlin,[17] the Aphrodite Kallipygos of Naples,[18] and the famous

Sleeping Hermaphrodite[19] are further examples of the marvellous flesh

treatment and the wild frenzy of movement which we learn to associate

with third-century Pergamene art.

Apart from the general spirit of Pergamene work there are several

definite technical peculiarities which enable us to postulate a

Pergamene origin for many unclassed works of the Hellenistic age.

These can be gathered from the definitely Pergamene Gallic statues,

which we have yet to discuss, and from the satyr types already

mentioned. One is the hair tossed up off the forehead and falling in

lank matted locks of wild disordered type. The eyebrows are usually

straight and shaggy, with a heavy bulge of the frontal sinus over the

nose. The cheekbones are prominent, and the lips thick and parted. In

the body the most marked feature is the desire to get away from the

old-fashioned straight plane for the front of the torso. The lower part

of the chest usually projects strongly, while the waist is drawn in, so

that the profile of the torso is shaped like a very obtuse _z_. In the

female body there is a general affection for rather heavy forms with

a good envelope of flesh. The artist’s skill is here devoted mainly

to the delineation of surface. The heads of such female figures as

we can attribute to Pergamene art show very little expression. The

hair is done on the Praxitelean model, but the locks tend to become

more rope-like and twisted as time goes on. We cannot point to any

great peculiarities in the Pergamene treatment of women. Neither

Lysippos nor Scopas seems to have had much effect on the feminine

types of Greek sculpture. The whole Hellenistic age is in servitude to

Praxitelean ideals of women whether in Alexandria, Rhodes, or Pergamon.

The differences are only in the details of execution, the Pergamenes

tending always towards clear cutting of hair and features, while the

Alexandrines preferred an impressionist smoothing away of all sharp

edges.

[Illustration: 3]

[Illustration: 4]

We come now to the two great dedications of Attalos for his victories

over the Gauls.[20] These were made at some time later than 241 B.C.,

and consist of two series of statues. One is life-size or larger,

and is represented by some of the best-known examples of Hellenistic

sculpture, such as the Dying Gaul[21] and the Ludovisi group of a

Gaul slaying his wife and himself (Fig. 4). The other consisted of a

number of small figures about three feet high, and was dedicated by

Attalos in Athens, where they stood on the parapet of the south wall

of the Acropolis. Four battle-groups were included--a gigantomachy, an

Amazonomachy, a battle of Greeks and Persians, and a battle of Greeks

and Gauls. Several copies from this smaller group are in existence,

the best known being in Naples.[22] The originals of both groups were

probably in bronze, and we have the names of some of the artists of

the larger group, Phyromachos, Antigonos, and Epigonos or Isigonos.

Stratonicos and Niceratos of Athens may also have taken part.[23]

These works all deserve careful study, as they differ in many ways from

the rather sensual and ecstatic art which we know to have preceded

them, and the very _baroque_ and exaggerated art which followed them

in the next century on the great altar. Eumenes and Attalos had to

fight for their lives against the Gauls, and a temporary return to an

austerer and less luxurious art would be a not unnatural result of the

great war. We certainly find in the treatment of the Amazons or of

the wife of the Ludovisi Gaul no such insistence on sexual detail as

marks the earlier studies of the feminine form, and the expression of

the male figures is distinguished by more ideal emotions of courage

or resignation than the frenzy of the satyrs and the passions of the

later gods and giants. The Attalid dedications show some _bravura_ of

pose; the Ludovisi Gaul is a little histrionic in his attitude; but as

a whole they are sober and restrained sculpture, when compared with

the satyrs on the one hand and the altar frieze on the other. In that

sense they represent the high-water mark of Pergamene art, inspired

with an equal skill, but with a nobler ideal than the earlier work,

and not subject to the somewhat grotesque exaggerations of its later

activities. Greek art has few nobler figures to show than the Dying

Gaul of the Capitol, itself an admirable and closely contemporary

copy, perhaps made in Ephesos, of the bronze original at Pergamon. The

sober restraint of the torso modelling is remarkable, and contrasts

most forcibly with the altar frieze. The pathos of the expression and

attitude is not forced or exaggerated in any way, and if the curious

hair gives a touch of strangeness to the head, we must account for

it as a naturalistic detail of the Gallic fashion of greasing and

oiling the hair. The Ludovisi Gaul is a superb work, rather more

exaggerated, both in expression and in detail, than the Capitol figure.

The right arm is perhaps wrongly restored, as it hides the face from

the front, but it is more likely that the group should be looked at

from a position farther to the left, where the face, the fine stride,

and the technical _tour de force_ of the cloak can all be appreciated

more fully. The woman’s face is not well finished, and her whole

pose is more effective from the other point of view. The Pergamene

peculiarities in the treatment of chest and waist are clearly visible

in this figure.

The little figures in Naples, the Louvre, Venice, and elsewhere are

partly recumbent dead figures of Persians, giants, and Amazons, and

partly crouching figures defending themselves. None of the victorious

Greeks seems to have survived, except possibly the torso of a horseman

in the Terme Museum. They are dry, rather hard figures, much inferior

in skill to the larger group and much closer to the bronze originals

which they represent. The head of a dead Persian in the Terme Museum

(Fig. 5) is probably a more worthy copy (on a larger scale) of one of

the figures of this series. Its type of features and its moustache

resemble the Ludovisi Gaul. Another fine Gallic head is in the Gizeh

Museum at Cairo (Fig. 6). This has been often called an original, an

Alexandrian variant of the Gallic dedications. There is, however, no

need to separate it from the others. If it shows more emotion, that

only brings it rather closer to what we know of earlier Pergamene art.

The provenance of the Gizeh head is disputed, and it may be only a

recent importation into Egypt.[24]

We now come to the frieze of the great altar at Pergamon (Fig. 7), the

contribution of Eumenes II to the series of monuments commemorating

the defeats of the barbarians. Here again we have several inscriptions

of artists,[25] which are especially interesting as showing that four

foreign artists of Attic, Ephesian, and Rhodian origin all contributed

to the great monument. It is, however, quite uniform and unique in

character, and shows a _baroque_ exaggeration of expression and of

muscular detail, which in the end becomes monotonous and overpowering.

The slight tendency towards a histrionic attitude, which we noticed in

the Ludovisi Gaul, has now become much more pronounced. Most of the

figures are in stage attitudes of fright, ferocity, attack, or defence.

Their bodies are covered either with drapery in wild disorder, or,

if naked, with massive rolls and lumps of muscle, which are almost

comical in their exaggeration. Their hair is in unrestrained twisted

snaky locks; their faces are distorted in fierce expressions of anger

or alarm; they are in every conceivable attitude of attack or defence.

When we add to this the colossal size of the monument and its figures,

we can well understand how its remains became known to early Christian

writers as the throne of Satan.[26]

[Illustration: 5]

[Illustration: 6]

[Illustration: 7]

[Illustration: 8]

The subject of the frieze is the battle of the gods and the giants, and

the members of the Olympic Pantheon are represented in attitudes of

triumph over the serpent-footed denizens of Tartarus. This is probably

the first appearance in sculpture of the serpent feet of the giant.

Every earlier artist had realized how such a ridiculous detail

would detract from the strength and probability of his figures, but

the Pergamene artists are so glad of the chance of displaying extra

technical skill that they pass over the artistic difficulty without

hesitation. The great frieze of the altar is like the work of a

megalomaniac. The restraint and good taste which have accompanied all

Hellenic art hitherto are quite forgotten, and we are reminded rather

of some Assyrian scene of carnage and destruction. This is the more

curious, because the smaller frieze of the altar, the Telephos frieze,

which is contemporary with the larger one, shows altogether a different

character. It has therefore been plausibly argued, with the support of

some of the artists’ signatures, that the main style of the work is

Rhodian rather than Pergamene.[27] The view would only involve us in

further difficulties when we come to consider Rhodian art. There is

Rhodian influence in the frieze, but the technical details of hair,

faces, and bodies as a whole correspond closely to Pergamene art.

Moreover, on _a priori_ grounds, Pergamene art is much more likely to

be affected by exotic oriental influences than the purer Rhodian. It

is easier to assume a special development of Pergamene art in this

exaggerated direction for a monument which was itself a special and

exceptional memorial. The whole character of the work is a reversion

to an earlier idealistic phase of art, though carried out on very

different artistic lines. This is no romantic or frivolous treatment of

mythological detail. It is a great conception of the victory of right

over might, of Hellas over the barbarian, and as such the great altar

of Pergamon stands quite apart from most of the work of the Hellenistic

age, and serves rather as a connecting link between the Parthenon

on the one hand and the Imperial trophies of Augustus, like the Ara

Pacis, on the other. It demonstrates the lack of judgement and balance

in Hellenistic art, but it is a good proof that the Hellenistic school

was not wholly absorbed in questions of _bravura_ and technique, but

could rise, even if in rather clumsy fashion, to the level of a great

occasion.

The smaller frieze of Pergamon, giving incidents in the myth of

Telephos, is of a very different type (Fig. 8). Firstly, the subject

is not a unity in time and place, but a continuous narration of

mythological episodes. It thus resembles the setting in a continuous

frieze of a number of metope-subjects. Telephos appears in different

situations in a scene which apparently is uniform. This is a decidedly

new departure in artistic theory, and it had the profoundest effect on

all subsequent art. We need not, of course, see in the Telephos frieze

the first appearance of this custom, but it happens to be the earliest

surviving monument in which the principle is easily remarked. Moreover,

the information as to change of scene is conveyed by means of changes

in the background, so that we see in it another new departure: the use

of a significant pictorial background instead of the blank wall against

which earlier reliefs had been set. Here again the Hellenistic artist

revives rather than originates. The pictorial background occurs as

early as the ‘Erechtheum’ _poros_ pediment of the Acropolis, but during

the fifth and fourth centuries the idea was dropped only to reappear at

a later date.

We have already seen that relief sculpture at all stages of its history

is closely affected by the kindred art of painting. During the fourth

century painting underwent changes in the direction of naturalism as

marked as, if not more marked than, the corresponding changes in

sculpture. The late fourth century and the third century form the great

period of Greek painting, in which the names of Parrhasios, Protogenes,

and Apelles stand supreme. A true and correct feeling for perspective

and a naturalistic scheme of colouring were the main discoveries of

the period, discoveries which we are only able to appreciate in very

roundabout methods through Pompeian wall-paintings and mummy-cases

from the Fayum. All Hellenistic sculpture is profoundly influenced

by painting, as we shall see; but naturally the art of relief is

nearest akin and shows most clearly the effects of graphic ideas. The

Hellenistic reliefs are almost all adaptations of pictures, and the

Telephos frieze earns its main interest and reputation because it is

one of the first monuments to show this influence very clearly. We find

a true use of perspective in part of this frieze, and a deliberate

intention to create the impression of depth.

One of the first results of these innovations was to free relief from

its subordination to architecture. It begins now to take its place as

a self-sufficing artistic object like a picture. Greek pictures were

mainly of the fresco type, and therefore immovably fixed to walls,

though easel pictures now begin to be more frequent. There was nothing

dissimilar in the position of a relief decorating a wall-panel without

architectural significance. This idea found its earliest manifestation

in Ionia with friezes of the Assos type on an architrave block, and

therefore at variance with architectural principles. Friezes as wall

decorations appear commonly in the Ionian buildings of the fifth

and fourth centuries, like the Nereid and Trysa monuments and the

Mausoleum. We find in the Hellenistic age the use of panels as wall

decorations quite frequent all over Asia Minor. Thus at Cyzicus we

have some curious mythological reliefs called Stylopinakia, which

appear to have been panels fixed between the columns of a peristyle. We

have the Apotheosis of Homer by Archelaos of Priene, a clear instance

of the decorative panel with a pictorial background; we have smaller

pieces like the Menander relief in the Lateran; the visit of Dionysos

to a dramatic poet; and all the series of so-called Hellenistic reliefs

ascribed by Schreiber[28] to an Alexandrian origin, by Wickhoff[29] to

the Augustan age and Italian art. The reliefs, like other sculpture

of the Hellenistic age, cannot be judged as a whole.[30] Some are

Augustan, like the reliefs in the Palazzo Spada, and some are

undoubtedly Alexandrian, like the Grimani reliefs in Vienna. Others,

again, show a strong Lysippic influence, which at once connects them

with Rhodes. The Telephos frieze, however, is Pergamene, and the

Cyzicus reliefs must have fallen mainly in the Pergamene sphere of art.

We are, therefore, entitled to demand a separation of the reliefs into

just as many classes as the sculpture. A fine piece of very high relief

from Pergamon is the group of Prometheus on the Caucasus freed by

Herakles.[31] Besides the influence of pictures on relief there is also

the influence of earlier sculpture. One of the figures in the Telephos

relief reproduces the Weary Herakles of Lysippos.[32] It would not be

difficult to point out other examples of the adaptation of older types.

The Marsyas group is itself a case in point. The indifference of the

Hellenistic artist to his subject made him the readier to adapt earlier

types, provided he had a free hand for his details of execution and

expression.

[Illustration: 9]

[Illustration: 10]

The figures of Pergamene art as a whole are short and stocky with

squarish deep heads. They correspond to the Scopaic, pre-Lysippic, and

Peloponnesian type, but the Lysippic improvements in pose and swing of

the body are thoroughly appreciated and adopted. From Praxiteles are

derived the female type and the interest in the satyr as a vehicle of

sculptural expression. The athletic art of Lysippos and the school of

Sikyon is practically unrepresented at Pergamon or in those regions of

Ionia and Bithynia which are connected with it and at which we must now

glance.

From Priene we have remains of a gigantomachy and some other

sculpture.[33] The influence of Praxiteles is marked, and the work as

a whole is clearly under Pergamene guidance. From Magnesia we have

remains of a great Amazonomachy belonging to the frieze of the temple

of Artemis Leucophryene and dating from the end of the third century.

The work is dull and careless but strongly under the influence of

Pergamon. We shall in fact find no more architectural reliefs of even

tolerable quality. The new landscape or pictorial reliefs occupied the

attention of the sculptors, and temple decoration was left entirely to

workmen.

One of the great Hellenistic art centres is Tralles, whose treasures

are mainly to be seen in the Constantinople museum. The colossal Apollo

or Dionysos (Fig. 9) is closely connected in pose and treatment with

the Apollo of the Marsyas group, and shows even more clearly than the

torso in the Uffizi the influence of Praxiteles. The cloaked ephebe

of Tralles (Fig. 10) is a good example of the eclecticism of the age.

The leaning attitude with the crossed legs reminds us of the satyrs

of Praxiteles and his school, but the head is quite different and is

strongly reminiscent of Myron. Boethos of Chalcedon belongs by birth to

the northern or Pergamene sphere of influence, but he worked in Rhodes

and will be more suitably considered in connexion with Rhodian art.

Pergamene influence was also strong in the islands and on the mainland.

We shall see that the school of Melos and both Attic and Peloponnesian

art during the late third and second centuries were obviously affected

by it.

II

THE SCHOOL OF ALEXANDRIA

It may well be questioned whether we are really in a position to

separate the Hellenistic schools as definitely and surely as we can

separate the Attic and Peloponnesian schools of the fifth and fourth

centuries or the earlier local schools of the sixth. In the Hellenistic

age we find a far greater uniformity and cosmopolitanism in art than

ever before. The conquests of Alexander had been in the long run

Panhellenic, and outside the mainland at any rate the title Greek

came at last to mean more than merely a man’s city or state. It has

therefore been argued by some critics that we must not expect to find

the same local distinctions in Hellenistic art. In a cosmopolitan world

with easy communications local and separate developments were no longer

possible. This position is plausible, and so far as the question of

ideals or even types is concerned there is little to choose between the

Hellenistic schools. The so-called Hellenistic reliefs are probably

of very diverse origin; the Hellenistic love for _genre_ scenes and

for the grotesque appears to be universally indulged; the erotic

groups of Pergamon were certainly equally popular in Alexandria; the

influence of painting and the adaptation of earlier sculptural types

are found in all parts of the Aegean world. But there does seem to be

a distinction in technical execution between the three great schools

of the period, which is sufficient to justify their consideration in

three separate chapters. While Pergamon is predominantly subject to

the Scopaic-Praxitelean mixed tradition with an especial fondness

for extremely clear-cut work and soft finish, Rhodes appears to be

equally faithful to the Lysippic athletic tradition, and Alexandria to

a strongly impressionist development of Praxitelean ideas joined to

a fondness for unsparing realism in the grotesque, a combination not

infrequent in the decadence of art. For Alexandrian art, more than any

of the others, deserves the title of decadent through its abandonment

of every vestige of idealism in motive.

We know the connexion of Alexandria with Athens was close in the late

fourth century, especially during the rule of Demetrios of Phaleron in

its closing decades. It was at this time that Bryaxis made the Sarapis

(Fig. 12), which has perhaps survived for us in the innumerable copies

of a wild-haired, heavily bearded head with shadowed mysterious eyes.

During the next century Macedonia was the chief foe of Athens and of

the Ptolemies, and all the earlier Egyptian rulers were on close terms

of friendship with the city. Thus a predominant influence of Athens and

of the greatest of the fourth-century Athenian sculptors, Praxiteles,

is only what we should anticipate in Alexandrian art. It has, however,

been argued that we have no evidence for a native art of Alexandria at

all.[34] While importing much late Attic sculpture, she borrowed also

from Pergamon works like the Gaul’s head at Cairo,[35] and from Antioch

a group like the Dresden Aphrodite with the Triton.[36] She was in fact

a collecting rather than an originating centre.

[Illustration: 11]

[Illustration: 12]

[Illustration: 13]

This view is improbable on many grounds. The Egyptians were a people

with a keen artistic sense, and the sudden introduction of a new race

like the Greeks with their passion for cultural expression could

hardly fail to give an impetus to artistic output. Moreover, a great

revival in architecture is noticeable all over Egypt. The Ptolemaic

age is one of the great building periods of the Nile valley. Further,

our authorities are unanimous on the importance and brilliance of

the Alexandrian school of painting, and we know that in gem-cutting

Pyrgoteles started a development never surpassed in antiquity or

modern times. In literature, in criticism, and in science the museum

of Alexandria held the chief place, and it is impossible to suppose

that Egypt remained a mere collector of sculpture without any original

development of her own. We must, therefore, examine the artistic

products of Hellenistic Egypt to see if they exhibit any technical

peculiarities marking them off from other Hellenistic centres and

compelling us to credit them with a local origin.

Any study of the sculpture of Alexandrian origin reveals one

characteristic almost invariably present in serious work, as opposed

to the grotesque, and absent from the certified products of other

centres. This is that quality of slurring over all sharp detail in the

features and producing a highly polished, almost liquidly transparent

surface for which we have borrowed the Italian term _morbidezza_.[37]

Instances of this highly impressionist treatment are to be found in

the British Museum head of Alexander from Alexandria, and also in the

Sieglin head from the same place; in the Triton head of the Dresden

Alexandrian group of Triton and Aphrodite; in the many Anadyomene

copies which are mostly connected with Alexandria, such for instance

as the beautiful statue recently found in Cyrenaica (Fig. 11); in

girls’ heads from Alexandria in Copenhagen and Dresden. In most of

these works and in many others the soft transparent quality of the face

is matched by a quite rough impressionist blocking-out of the hair.

Thus we find both the characteristics of Praxitelean impressionism,

the rough hair and the soft liquid gaze, exaggerated and intensified

in Alexandrian sculpture. While the female hair of Pergamene art is

invariably clear-cut and rope-like, Alexandrian hair is normally

of the rough crinkly Praxitelean type, sometimes merely formal, at

others more complicated and complete. This impressionist character of

Alexandrian sculpture is borne out by what we know of its painting, and

is doubtless due to some extent to the great influence of painting on

sculpture as well as to the influence of Praxiteles.

Another technical point about Alexandrian sculpture is connected with

the local conditions of the country. Egypt is not a country of marble,

and therefore the artists had to be economical in the use of it. This

is probably the reason why so many Alexandrian heads have the faces

complete in marble but the hair added separately in stucco, where the

colouring would render the difference in material hardly noticeable.

Thus many statues of Alexandrian origin have large pieces of the

upper part of their heads smoothed away and left for the addition of

stucco. This phenomenon is not confined to Alexandrian art, though it

is much commoner at Alexandria than elsewhere, and where we find it in

combination with the other qualities of impressionism and _morbidezza_

already noticed we may feel fairly confident in claiming an Alexandrian

origin for the work in question.

[Illustration: 14]

[Illustration: 15]

[Illustration: 16]

This theory is admirably illustrated in the beautiful little head of

a girl from Chios recently acquired by the Boston Museum (Fig. 13).

The head shows us an extreme degree of _morbidezza_ in the softening

of all the sharper facial lines such as eyelids and lips. The face

is seen almost through a slight haze, and it thus gets some of the

impression conveyed by distance. Where the head is worked it is quite

rough and formal in purely impressionist style, but most of the hair

was to be added in stucco, as the sharp cuts on the upper part of the

head demonstrate. The head has been attributed too enthusiastically to

Praxiteles himself. It is good work, but it is not by the author of the

Hermes. The too mechanical smile and the too formal cheeks show a less

masterly touch. But it is a perfect embodiment of Alexandrian art about

300 B.C. and must be unhesitatingly attributed to its real origin. We

see a general copy of the Praxitelean long face with eyes about the

centre of the head, Praxitelean proportions, and Praxitelean head-type.

Another head of Alexandrian origin is the fine bearded head of the

Capitol Museum (Fig. 14), which is really almost a mask with the whole

of the top and sides of the head left for stucco additions. The rough

blocking of the beard shows the artist’s impressionist leanings. The

long face is purely Attic, though perhaps closer to Bryaxis or some

later artist than to Praxiteles. The head is more or less akin to the

Sarapis head and to the other much finer bearded head which stands

in close relation to the Sarapis, the well-known Zeus of Otricoli

(Fig. 15). In the Otricoli head we have a similar prominence of the

cheek-bones, a similar narrowing of the forehead above the frontal

sinus--Attic features but not Praxitelean. The Otricoli Zeus is also

a marble work cut for stucco additions, some of which are still

visible, and we should probably recognize in it another work of early

Alexandrian origin. It is perhaps not too daring to see the prototype

of these Attic-shaped non-Praxitelean Alexandrian bearded heads in the

Sarapis of Bryaxis.[38] Bryaxis or some other late Attic artist seems

to have affected the bearded male type of Alexandria much as Praxiteles

influenced the feminine ideal. Nottingham Castle contains a bearded

head from Nemi,[39] which belongs to the same class of work. Here again

we have the hair added in stucco and a general resemblance to the

Otricoli type.

[Illustration: 17]

[Illustration: 18]

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