Читать книгу Greek Sculpture - Edmund von Mach - Страница 6

The thoughtful consideration of human nature’s needs characterising the best Greek works is nowhere better than in relief sculpture. All relief sculpture may be divided into two large classes, exhibiting great technical differences. In the first class, the artist may design and carve his figures on a block of stone from which he hews away as much as he likes to bring out the contours. He begins on the front plane, beyond which no figure may project, and pays no attention to a uniform depth of background. This kind of relief may be called the carved relief.

In the second class, which originated when sculptors no longer worked the marble itself but made their first designs in clay, the figures are modelled separately and attached to a uniform and unifying background. A profile view reveals the absence of a common front plane. Later, these models may be carved in marble or cast in bronze. Due to their origin, and to distinguish them from the other types, they are best called modelled reliefs.Common today, the best known reliefs in this style are the Ghiberti gates on the baptistery in Florence. The Greeks almost exclusively practised the carved relief.

In describing a Greek relief people usually speak of the figures as being raised to a certain height from the background. This is inaccurate, because carved relief technique requires their being sunk from the front plane. It is possible and occurs frequently on the Parthenon frieze frieze (Illustration 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12) to have the right side of a figure sunk deeper than the left side, with the feet deeper than the head. This creates virtually no background from which the figures can be said to have been raised. The effect of such a technique is that the figures themselves and not the background – which in pictures is often prominent – arrest the attention of the spectator

Human vision is restless. One feels ill at ease when obliged to keep a steady focus. In a picture one’s imagination may wander from the nearest object to the farthest, and vice versa; in the carved relief, which broadly speaking contains only the nearest object, care must be taken to provide variety in another direction. For this reason the broad expanse of the Parthenon frieze is tremendously pleasing. The skill of the artists through application of clever techniques has made it nearly impossible to concentrate at any single figure for long. The spectator has barely understood one figure when its lines carry him to the next and then the next, first rapidly, then slowly, as he approaches the quiet company of gods seated above the entrance door.

One can readily see that a relief of this kind cannot be easily adapted to a panel, limited, as it were, in size and sufficiently small to fall at once within one’s radius of vision. All figures crowd to the foreground; they pass quickly in review, and when the eyes desire a change no expanse into the distance exists; such a view could satisfy. Vision’s natural restlessness brings out this lack, and one will likely experience a sense of dissatisfaction.

To a great extent the modelled relief, with its depth of background, has overcome this difficulty, and offers possibilities in this direction not possessed by the older style. To date, however, none of its creations can be said to have been altogether successful. Great depth of reproduction requires the introduction of perspective; and while linear perspective is not incompatible with corporeal representation, aerial perspective is, because it diminishes the distinctness of contours of objects seen at a distance. Another formidable obstacle is the proper treatment of shadows.

It may be safely assumed that the ancients were aware of these difficulties, and therefore somewhat tenacious in their adherence to the practices of the older style, at least in their more pretentious works of art. In minor works, notably in terra cottas, they pushed the tentative beginnings in the other style to a considerable extent. Nothing, however, will do more to clarify the views on Greek relief sculpture than to treat the two styles separately; and since the second style occurs in ancient times only in works of secondary importance, it is best to confine oneself to the carved relief.

The Greeks had no distinguishing words for high or low relief. Today people find that not even these two words are sufficient to designate the different methods of relief work. They speak of high relief or alto-relievo, mezzo-relievo, low relief or basso-relievo, stiacciato, and finally have to coin a new word to describe a method practised by the ancient Egyptians. Only “high relief” and “low relief” are idiomatic English terms. They are the most popular reliefs in use at the present date. The same was true of the Greeks.

Sacrifice of Isaac, by Filippo Brunelleschi, 1401–1402. Bronze relief, h: 45 cm, l: 38 cm. Museo Nazionale del Bargello, Florence.

Sacrifice of Isaac, by Lorenzo Ghiberti, 1401–1402. Bronze relief, h: 45 cm, l: 38 cm. Museo Nazionale del Bargello, Florence.

The names themselves characterise the reliefs only to a certain extent. Whereas the Parthenon frieze with an average depth of two to three inches and a length of five hundred and twenty-three feet is low, most people would call a small panel exhibiting the same depth high relief. The terms “high” and “low,” therefore, are only relatively descriptive. The real differences lie in the technique and design, which are absolute. The Greeks, moreover, did not use high or low relief indiscriminately as the individual taste of the artist or the art patron demanded; selection of a particular method depended upon external circumstances, such as lighting, height, and so forth.

A very flat relief placed in a well-lighted room appears indistinct; lowering the curtains makes it seem to grow from the background. In proper dim light it approximates fairly the lines of a high relief. This is why the Greeks had no distinguishing names for the two kinds of relief. They were not intended as different practices; on the contrary, the impression made upon the spectator by the one was to be approximately the same as that made by the other. The Greeks knew the importance of light and shadow: they knew that the same work under different conditions appears, and therefore to all practical purposes is, a different work of art; and that, on the other hand, two reliefs of entirely different technique may be seen as much alike if they are placed under proportionally different conditions. In other words, the work of art must be designed for the particular condition under which it is to be seen. A common story in antiquity supports the idea that this was the practice of the Greeks: Phidias and his famous pupil Alkamenes once entered a competition in which the latter nearly won the prize because the master’s statue at short range did not seem to exhibit the same pleasing proportions as that of his pupil. The statues were designed for viewing in high positions. Once so placed Phidias’s statue viewed infinitely better than his pupil’s. Perhaps a spurious anecdote of later times, the story was probably invented to illustrate Phidias’s technique, though it does injustice to Alkamenes, probably one of the greatest artists of the fifth century B. C. The statues of Phidias were not the only ones designed for such particular viewing conditions.

The same can be said of all the best Greek works, including the Parthenon sculptures. That these latter are splendid even today when taken from their exalted position, is additional proof of their exquisite simplicity and delicate workmanship. No student of Greek art, however, will deny that the Parthenon reliefs and pedimental sculptures would appear to even better advantage if they could be restored to their proper places and be viewed in their correct light.

The Ionic frieze, with its comparatively low reliefs, was placed around the cella walls on the inside of the colonnade, where the direct light would never strike it. The Doric frieze, broken up in the triglyphs and metopes with powerful figures in the highest possible relief, was attached outside above the columns. Here it commanded the maximum light, which in its Athenian intensity is unknown in western and more northerly climes.

Herakles receiving the Golden Apples of the Hesperides from the Hand of Atlas, while Minerva rests a Cushion on his Head, east metope, Temple of Zeus, Olympia, c. 470–456 B. C. Marble, h: 160 cm. Archaeological Museum, Olympia.

Battle between the Greeks and the Persians, north frieze, Temple of Athena Nike, Acropolis, Athens, c. 425–421 B. C. Marble, h: 45 cm. British Museum, London.

Battle Scene, west frieze, Temple of Athena Nike, Acropolis, Athens, c. 425–421 B. C. Marble, h: 45 cm. British Museum, London.

At first this may seem strange, for most people reason that dim, uncertain light of a half-interior requires prominent figures to be viewed. As experiments can demonstrate, this is a mistake. The more prominently a figure stands out from a background, the deeper its shadow. Figures in this shadow disappear from view in an interior, because the light, dim in any case, is converted to darkness by the addition of the shadow. Shadows are so much darkness; removed, they add that much light to the composition.

Theoretically, the suppression of shadows might appear to run counter to nature, resulting in unsatisfactory lighting. This is not the case, since shadows are often anything but unnoticed. Especially on gloomy days and even under bright light their absence is rarely felt, provided there is uniformity in their absence. This is best illustrated on stage, where shadows are removed by throwing strong side light on the actors. On stage the absence of shadows is often necessary, as the background is painted in perspective. A painted house, for instance, which is actually only ten feet behind the actor, is nevertheless perceived to be hundreds of feet away. If the actor’s shadow were to fall on the top of the house, this illusion would be destroyed. For this reason shadows on stage are avoided; and this is done without giving the spectators the least unpleasant sensation. The suppression of shadows on a relief, therefore, need not occasion apprehension. Experience teaches that it passes unnoticed if judiciously and uniformly employed.

These considerations may prove that a high relief is not suited for a position in dim light. Any doubts as to the advisability of placing a low relief under such conditions are swept away by doing the experiment above. The relief must be low in proportion to the room’s dimness; lack of proper light necessitates the composition to supply its own light, as it were, which can be done by more or less vigourously suppressing shadows. The lowest relief, with practically no shadows, belongs to the darkest room. Its neighbour obscures no figure; all are equally visible. Thus, the absence of shadows adds so much light to the composition.

Low relief supplements the absence of strong light, whereas high relief, by its vigourous shadows, tones down the brightness of excessive light. As a result, the qualities of these two kinds of relief equallise the differences in the amount of light under which they are viewed. Their impressions upon the spectators, consequently, are more alike than could be expected from an analytical study of them when removed from their proper places and set side by side for inspection under the same strong light.

Temple of Athena Nike, Acropolis, Athens, c. 425–421 B. C. In situ.

Battle between the Greeks and the Amazons, east frieze, Apollo Epikourios Temple, Bassae, c. 420 B. C. Marble, h: 70 cm. British Museum, London.

Erechtheum, Acropolis, Athens, c. 420–406 B. C. In situ.

Caryatid, from the Erechtheum, Acropolis, Athens, c. 420–406 B. C. Marble, h: 231 cm. British Museum, London.