APPENDIX.

(NOTES ON THE PLATES ILLUSTRATING THIS VOLUME.)

In the delivery of the preceding Lectures, some account was given of the

theologic design of the sculptures by Giovanni Pisano at Orvieto, which

I intended to have printed separately, and in more complete form, in

this Appendix. But my strength does not now admit of my fulfilling the

half of my intentions, and I find myself, at present, tired, and so

dead in feeling, that I have no quickness in interpretation, or skill in

description of emotional work. I must content myself, therefore, for the

time, with a short statement of the points which I wish the reader to

observe in the Plates, and which were left unnoticed in the text.

The frontispiece is the best copy I can get, in permanent materials,

of a photograph of the course of the Arno, through Pisa, before the old

banks were destroyed. Two arches of the Ponte-a-Mare which was carried

away in the inundation of 1870, are seen in the distance; the church

of La Spina, in its original position overhanging the river; and the

buttressed and rugged walls of the mediaeval shore. Never more, any of

these, to be seen in reality, by living eyes.

PLATE I.--A small portion of a photograph of Nicolo Pisano's Adoration

of the Magi, on the pulpit of the Pisan Baptistery. The intensely Greek

character of the heads, and the severely impetuous chiselling (learned

from Late Roman rapid work), which drives the lines of the drapery

nearly straight, may be seen better in a fragment of this limited

measure than in the crowded massing of the entire subject. But it may

be observed also that there is both a thoughtfulness and a tenderness

in the features, whether of the Virgin or the attendant angel, which

already indicate an aim beyond that of Greek art.

PLATE II--The Pulpit of the Baptistery (of which the preceding

plate represents a portion). I have only given this general view for

convenience of reference. Beautiful photographs of the subject on a

large scale are easily attainable.

PLATE III.--The Fountain of Perugia. Executed from a sketch by Mr.

Arthur Severn. The perspective of the steps is not quite true; we both

tried to get it right, but found that it would be a day or two's work,

to little purpose, and so let them go at hazard. The inlaid pattern

behind is part of the older wall of the cathedral; the late door is of

course inserted.

PLATE IV., LETTER E.--From Norman Bible in the British Museum; showing

the moral temper which regulated common ornamentation in the twelfth

century.

PLATE V.--Door of the Baptistery at Pisa. The reader must note that,

although these plates are necessarily, in fineness of detail, inferior

to the photographs from which they are taken, they have the inestimable

advantage of permanence, and will not fade away into spectres when

the book is old. I am greatly puzzled by the richness of the current

ornamentation on the main pillars, as opposed to the general severity of

design. I never can understand how the men who indulged in this flowing

luxury of foliage were so stern in their masonry and figure-draperies.

PLATE VI.--Part of the lintel of the door represented on Plate V.,

enlarged. I intended, in the Lecture on Marble Couchant, to have

insisted, at some length, on the decoration of the lintel and

side-posts, as one of the most important phases of mystic ecclesiastical

sculpture. But I find the materials furnished by Lucca, Pisa, and

Florence, for such an essay are far too rich to be examined cursorily;

the treatment even of this single lintel could scarcely be enough

explained in the close of the Lecture. I must dwell on some points of it

now.

Look back to Section 175 in "Aratra Pentelici," giving statement of the

four kinds of relief in sculpture. The uppermost of these plinths is

of the kind I have called 'round relief'; you might strike it out on a

coin. The lower is 'foliate relief'; it looks almost as if the figures

had been cut out of one layer of marble, and laid against another behind

it.

The uppermost, at the distance of my diagram, or in nature itself, would

scarcely be distinguished at a careless glance from an egg-and-arrow

moulding. You could not have a more simple or forcible illustration

of my statement in the first chapter of "Aratra," that the essential

business of sculpture is to produce a series of agreeable bosses or

rounded surfaces; to which, if possible, some meaning may afterwards

be attached. In the present instance, every egg becomes an angel, or

evangelist, and every arrow a lily, or a wing. [1] The whole is in the

most exquisitely finished Byzantine style.

[Footnote: In the contemporary south door of the Duomo of Genoa, the

Greek moulding is used without any such transformation.]

I am not sure of being right in my interpretation of the meaning of

these figures; but I think there can be little question about it. There

are eleven altogether; the three central, Christ with His mother and St.

Joseph; then, two evangelists, with two alternate angels, on each side.

Each of these angels carries a rod, with a fleur-de-lys termination;

their wings decorate the intermediate ridges (formed, in a pure Greek

moulding, by the arrows); and, behind the heads of all the figures,

there is now a circular recess; once filled, I doubt not, by a plate of

gold. The Christ, and the Evangelists, all carry books, of which each

has a mosaic, or intaglio ornament, in the shape of a cross. I could

not show you a more severe or perfectly representative piece of

_architectural_ sculpture.

The heads of the eleven figures are as simply decorative as the ball

flowers are in our English Gothic tracery; the slight irregularity

produced by different gesture and character giving precisely the sort of

change which a good designer wishes to see in the parts of a consecutive

ornament.

The moulding closes at each extremity with a palm-tree, correspondent in

execution with those on coins of Syracuse; for the rest, the interest

of it consists only in these slight variations of attitude by which

the figures express wonder or concern at some event going on in their

presence. They are looking down; and I do not doubt, are intended to be

the heavenly witnesses of the story engraved on the stone below,--The

Life and Death of the Baptist.

The lower stone on which this is related, is a model of skill in

Fiction, properly so called. In Fictile art, in Fictile history, it is

equally exemplary. 'Feigning' or 'affecting' in the most exquisite way

by fastening intensely on the principal points.

Ask yourselves what are the principal points to be insisted on, in the

story of the Baptist.

He came, "preaching the Baptism of Repentance for the remission of

sins." That is his Advice, or Order-preaching.

And he came, "to bear witness of the Light." "Behold the Lamb of God,

which taketh away the sins of the world." That is his declaration, or

revelation-preaching.

And the end of his own life is in the practice of this preaching--if you

will think of it--under curious difficulties in both kinds. Difficulties

in putting away sin--difficulties in obtaining sight. The first half of

the stone begins with the apocalyptic preaching. Christ, represented

as in youth, is set under two trees, in the wilderness. St. John is

scarcely at first seen; he is only the guide, scarcely the teacher, of

the crowd of peoples, nations, and languages, whom he leads, pointing

them to the Christ. Without doubt, all these figures have separate

meaning. I am too ignorant to interpret it; but observe generally, they

are the thoughtful and wise of the earth, not its ruffians or rogues.

This is not, by any means, a general amnesty to blackguards, and an

apocalypse to brutes, which St. John is preaching. These are quite the

best people he can find to call, or advise. You see many of them carry

rolls of paper in their hands, as he does himself. In comparison

with the books of the upper cornice, these have special meaning, as

throughout Byzantine design.

"Adverte quod patriarchæ et prophetse pinguntur cum rotulis

in manibus; quidam vero apostoli cum libris, et quidam

cum rotulis. Nempe quia ante Christi adventum fides figurative

ostendebatur, et quoad multa, in se implicita erat. Ad

quod ostendendum patriarchse et prophetæ pinguntur cum rotulis,

per quos quasi qusedam imperfecta cognitio design atur;

quia vero apostoli a Christo perfecte edocti suut, ideo libris,

per quos designatur perfecta cognitio, uti possunt."

WILLIAM DURANDUS, quoted by Didron, p. 305.

PLATE VII.--Next to this subject of the preaching comes the Baptism: and

then, the circumstances of St. John's death. First, his declaration to

Herod, "It is not lawful for thee to have thy brother's wife:" on

which he is seized and carried to prison:--next, Herod's feast,--the

consultation between daughter and mother, "What shall I ask?"--the

martyrdom, and burial by the disciples. The notable point in the

treatment of all these subjects is the quiet and mystic Byzantine

dwelling on thought rather than action. In a northern sculpture of this

subject, the daughter of Herodias would have been assuredly dancing; and

most probably, casting a somersault. With the Byzantine, the debate in

her mind is the only subject of interest, and he carves above, the evil

angels, laying their hands on the heads, first of Herod and Herodias,

and then of Herodias and her daughter.

PLATE VIII.--The issuing of commandment not to eat of the tree of

knowledge. (Orvieto Cathedral.)

This, with Plates X. and XII., will give a sufficiently clear conception

to any reader who has a knowledge of sculpture, of the principles of

Giovanni Pisano's design. I have thought it well worth while to publish

opposite two of them, facsimiles of the engravings which profess to

represent them in Gruiier's monograph [1] of the Orvieto sculptures; for

these outlines will, once for all, and better than any words, show my

pupils what is the real virue of mediaeval work,--the power which we

medievalists rejoice in it for. Precisely the qualities which are

_not_ in the modern drawings, are the essential virtues of the early

sculpture. If you like the Gruner outlines best, you need not trouble

yourself to go to Orvieto, or anywhere else in Italy. Sculpture, such as

those outlines represent, can be supplied to you by the acre, to order,

in any modern academician's atelier. But if you like the strange, rude,

quaint, Gothic realities (for these photographs are, up to a certain

point, a vision of the reality) best; then, don't study mediaeval art

under the direction of modern illustrators. Look at it--for however

short a time, where you can find it--veritable and untouched, however

mouldered or shattered. And abhor, as you would the mimicry of your best

friend's manners by a fool, all restorations and improving copies. For

remember, none but fools think they can restore--none, but worse fools,

that they can improve.

[Footnote: The drawings are by some Italian draughtsman, whose name it

is no business of mine to notice.]

Examine these outlines, then, with extreme care, and point by point. The

things which they have refused or lost, are the things you have to love,

in Giovanni Pisano.

I will merely begin the task of examination, to show you how to set

about it. Take the head of the commanding Christ. Although inclined

forward from the shoulders in the advancing motion of the whole body,

the head itself is not stooped; but held entirely upright, the line of

forehead sloping backwards. The command is given in calm authority;

not in mean anxiety. But this was not expressive enough for the

copyist,--"How much better _I_ can show what is meant!" thinks he. So he

puts the line of forehead and nose upright; projects the brow out of its

straight line; and the expression then becomes,--"Now, be very careful,

and mind what I say." Perhaps you like this 'improved' action better?

Be it so; only, it is not Giovanni Pisano's design; but the modern

Italian's.

Next, take the head of Eve. It is much missed in the photograph--nearly

all the finest lines lost--but enough is got to show Giovanni's mind.

It appears, he liked long-headed people, with sharp chins and straight

noses. It might be very wrong of him; but that was his taste. So much

so, indeed, that Adam and Eve have,

[Illustration: PLATE XI.--THE NATIVITY. MODERN ITALIAN.]

both of them, heads not much shorter than one-sixth of their entire

height.

Your modern Academy pupil, of course, cannot tolerate this monstrosity.

He indulgently corrects Giovanni, and Adam and Eve have entirely

orthodox one-eighth heads, by rule of schools.

But how of Eve's sharp-cut nose and pointed chin, thin lips, and look

of quiet but rather surprised attention--not specially reverent, but

looking keenly out from under her eyelids, like a careful servant

receiving an order?

Well--those are all Giovanni's own notions;--not the least classical,

nor scientific, nor even like a pretty, sentimental modern woman. Like

a Florentine woman--in Giovanni's time--it may be; at all events, very

certainly, what Giovanni thought proper to carve.

Now examine your modern edition. An entirely proper Greco-Roman academy

plaster bust, with a proper nose, and proper mouth, and a round chin,

and an expression of the most solemn reverence; always, of course, of a

classical description. Very fine, perhaps. But not Giovanni.

After Eve's head, let us look at her feet. Giovanni has his own positive

notions about those also. Thin and bony, to excess, the right, undercut

all along, so that the profile looks as thin as the mere elongated

line on an Etruscan vase; and the right showing the five toes all

well separate, nearly straight, and the larger ones almost as long as

fingers! the shin bone above carried up in as severe and sharp a curve

as the edge of a sword.

Now examine the modern copy. Beautiful little fleshy, Venus-de'-Medici

feet and toes--no undercutting to the right foot,--the left having the

great-toe properly laid over the second, according to the ordinances of

schools and shoes, and a well-developed academic and operatic calf and

leg. Again charming, of course. But only according to Mr. Gibson or Mr.

Power--not according to Giovanni.

Farther, and finally, note the delight with which Giovanni has dwelt,

though without exaggeration, on the muscles of the breast and ribs in

the Adam; while he has subdued all away into virginal severity in Eve.

And then note, and with conclusive admiration, how in the exact and only

place where the poor modern fool's anatomical knowledge should have been

shown, the wretch loses his hold of it! How he has entirely missed and

effaced the grand Greek pectoral muscles of Giovanni's Adam, but has

studiously added what mean fleshliness he could to the Eve; and marked

with black spots the nipple and navel, where Giovanni left only the

severe marble in pure light.

These instances are enough to enable you to detect the insolent changes

in the design of Giovanni made by the modern Academy-student in so far

as they relate to form absolute. I must farther, for a few moments,

request your attention to the alterations made in the light and shade.

You may perhaps remember some of the passages. They occur frequently,

both in my inaugural lectures, and in "Aratra Pentelici," in which

I have pointed out the essential connection between the schools of

sculpture and those of chiaroscuro. I have always spoken of the Greek,

or essentially sculpture-loving schools, as chiaroscurist; always of

the Gothic, or colour-loving schools, as non-chiaroscurist. And in one

place, (I have not my books here, and cannot refer to it,) I have even

defined sculpture as light-and-shade drawing with the chisel. Therefore,

the next point you have to look to, after the absolute characters of

form, is the mode in which the sculptor has placed his shadows, both

to express these, and to force the eye to the points of his composition

which he wants looked at. You cannot possibly see a more instructive

piece of work, in these respects, than Giovanni's design of the

Nativity, Plate X. So far as I yet know Christian art, this is the

central type of the treatment of the subject; it has all the intensity

and passion of the earliest schools, together with a grace of repose

which even in Ghiberti's beautiful Nativity, founded upon it, has

scarcely been increased, but rather lost in languor. The motive of the

design is the frequent one among all the early masters; the Madonna

lifts the covering from the cradle to show the Child to one of the

servants, who starts forward adoring. All the light and shade is

disposed

[Illustration: PLATE XII.--THE ANNUNCIATION AND VISITATION.]

to fix the eye on these main actions. First, one intense deeply-cut mass

of shadow, under the pointed arch, to throw out the head and lifted hand

of the Virgin. A vulgar sculptor would have cut all black behind the

head; Giovanni begins with full shadow; then subdues it with drapery

absolutely quiet in fall; then lays his fullest possible light on the

head, the hand, and the edge of the lifted veil.

He has undercut his Madonna's profile, being his main aim, too

delicately for time to spare; happily the deep-cut brow is left, and the

exquisitely refined line above, of the veil and hair. The rest of the

work is uninjured, and the sharpest edges of light are still secure. You

may note how the passionate action of the servant is given by the deep

shadows under and above her arm, relieving its curves in all their

length, and by the recess of shade under the cheek and chin, which lifts

the face.

Now take your modern student's copy, and look how _he_ has placed his

lights and shades. You see, they go as nearly as possible exactly where

Giovanni's _don't_. First, pure white under this Gothic arch, where

Giovanni has put his fullest dark. Secondly, just where Giovanni has

used his whole art of chiselling, to soften his stone away, and show

the wreaths of the Madonna's hair lifting her veil behind, the accursed

modern blockhead carves his shadow straight down, because he thinks that

will be more in the style of Michael Angelo. Then he takes the shadows

away from behind the profile, and from under the chin, and from under

the arm, and puts in two grand square blocks of dark at the ends of

the cradle, that you may be safe to look at that, instead of the Child.

Next, he takes it all away from under the servant's arms, and lays it

all behind above the calf of her leg. Then, not having wit enough to

notice Giovanni's undulating surface beneath the drapery of the bed

on the left, he limits it with a hard parallel-sided bar of shade, and

insists on the vertical fold under the Madonna's arm, which Giovanni

has purposely cut flat that it may not interfere with the arm above;

finally, the modern animal has missed the only pieces of womanly form

which Giovanni admitted, the rounded right arm and softly revealed

breast; and absolutely removed, as if it were no part of the

composition, the horizontal incision at the base of all--out of which

the first folds of the drapery rise.

I cannot give you any better example, than this modern Academy-work, of

the total ignorance of the very first meaning of the word 'Sculpture'

into which the popular schools of existing art are plunged. I will

not insist, now, on the uselessness, or worse, of their endeavours to

represent the older art, and of the necessary futility of their judgment

of it. The conclusions to which I wish to lead you on these points will

be the subject of future lectures, being of too great importance for

examination here. But you cannot spend your time in more profitable

study than by examining and comparing, touch for touch, the treatment

of light and shadow in the figures of the Christ and sequent angels, in

Plates VIII. and IX., as we have partly examined those of the subject

before us; and in thus assuring yourself of the uselessness of trusting

to any ordinary modern copyists, for anything more than the rudest chart

or map--and even that inaccurately surveyed--of ancient design.

The last plate given in this volume contains the two lovely subjects of

the Annunciation and Visitation, which, being higher from the ground,

are better preserved than the groups represented in the other plates.

They will be found to justify, in subtlety of chiselling, the title I

gave to Giovanni, of the Canova of the thirteenth century.

I am obliged to leave without notice, at present, the branch of ivy,

given in illustration of the term 'marble rampant,' at the base of Plate

VIII. The foliage of Orvieto can only be rightly described in connection

with the great scheme of leaf-ornamentation which ascended from the

ivy of the Homeric period in the sculptures of Cyprus, to the roses of

Botticelli, and laurels of Bellini and Titian.