A History Of Greek Art
by
F. B. Tarbell
Part 1 out of 3
Produced by Robert Rowe, Charles Franks
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
A History of Greek Art
With an Introductory Chapter on Art in Egypt and Mesopotamia
BY F. B. TARBELL
PROFESSOR OF CLASSICAL ARCHAEOLOGY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO
PREFACE.
The art of any artistically gifted people may be studied with
various purposes and in various ways. One man, being himself an
artist, may seek inspiration or guidance for his own practice;
another, being a student of the history of civilization, may
strive to comprehend the products of art as one manifestation of a
people's spiritual life; another may be interested chiefly in
tracing the development of artistic processes, forms, and
subjects; and so on. But this book has been written in the
conviction that the greatest of all motives for studying art, the
motive which is and ought to be strongest in most people, is the
desire to become acquainted with beautiful and noble things, the
things that "soothe the cares and lift the thoughts of man." The
historical method of treatment has been adopted as a matter of
course, but the emphasis is not laid upon the historical aspects
of the subject. The chief aim has been to present characteristic
specimens of the finest Greek work that has been preserved to us,
and to suggest how they may be intelligently enjoyed. Fortunate
they who can carry their studies farther, with the help of less
elementary handbooks, of photographs, of casts, or, best of all,
of the original monuments.
Most of the illustrations in this book have been made from
photographs, of which all but a few belong to the collection of
Greek photographs owned by the University of Chicago. A number of
other illustrations have been derived from books or serial
publications, as may be seen from the accompanying legends. In
several cases where cuts were actually taken from secondary
sources, such as Baumeister's "Denkmaler des klassischen
Altertums," they have been credited to their original sources. A
few architectural drawings were made expressly for this work,
being adapted from trustworthy authorities, viz.: Figs. 6, 51, 61,
and 64. There remain two or three additional illustrations, which
have so long formed a part of the ordinary stock-in trade of
handbooks that it seemed unnecessary to assign their origin.
The introductory chapter has been kindly looked over by Dr. J. H.
Breasted, who has relieved it of a number of errors, without in
any way making himself responsible for it. The remaining chapters
have unfortunately not had the benefit of any such revision.
In the present reissue of this book a number of slight changes and
corrections have been introduced.
Chicago, January, 1905.
CONTENTS.
I. ART IN EGYPT AND MESOPOTAMIA
II. PREHISTORIC ART IN GREECE
III. GREEK ARCHITECTURE
IV. GREEK SCULPTURE--GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS
V. THE ARCHAIC PERIOD OF GREEK SCULPTURE, FIRST HALF: 625 (?)-550 B.C.
VI. THE ARCHAIC PERIOD OF GREEK SCULPTURE. SECOND HALF: 550-480 B. C.
VII. THE TRANSITIONAL PERIOD OF GREEK SCULPTURE. 480-4506. C.
VIII. THE GREAT AGE OF GREEK SCULPTURE. FIRST PERIOD: 450-400 B. C.
IX. THE GREAT AGE OF GREEK SCULPTURE. SECOND PERIOD: 400-323 B. C.
X. THE HELLENISTIC PERIOD OF GREEK SCULPTURE. 323-146 B. C.
XI. GREEK PAINTING
A HISTORY OF GREEK ART.
CHAPTER I.
ART IN EGYPT AND MESOPOTAMIA.
The history of Egypt, from the time of the earliest extant
monuments to the absorption of the country in the Roman Empire,
covers a space of some thousands of years. This long period was
not one of stagnation. It is only in proportion to our ignorance
that life in ancient Egypt seems to have been on one dull, dead
level. Dynasties rose and fell. Foreign invaders occupied the land
and were expelled again. Customs, costumes, beliefs, institutions,
underwent changes. Of course, then, art did not remain stationary.
On the contrary, it had marked vicissitudes, now displaying great
freshness and vigor, now uninspired and monotonous, now seemingly
dead, and now reviving to new activity. In Babylonia we deal with
perhaps even remoter periods of time, but the artistic remains at
present known from that quarter are comparatively scanty. From
Assyria, however, the daughter of Babylonia, materials abound, and
the history of that country can be written in detail for a period
of several centuries. Naturally, then, even a mere sketch of
Egyptian, Babylonian, and Assyrian art would require much more
space than is here at disposal. All that can be attempted is to
present a few examples and suggest a few general notions. The main
purpose will be to make clearer by comparison and contrast the
essential qualities of Greek art, to which this volume is devoted.
I begin with Egypt, and offer at the outset a table of the most
important periods of Egyptian history. The dates are taken from
the sketch prefixed to the catalogue of Egyptian antiquities in
the Berlin Museum. In using them the reader must bear in mind that
the earlier Egyptian chronology is highly uncertain. Thus the date
here suggested for the Old Empire, while it cannot be too early,
may be a thousand years too late. As we come down, the margin of
possible error grows less and less. The figures assigned to the
New Empire are regarded as trustworthy within a century or two.
But only when we reach the Saite dynasty do we get a really
precise chronology.
Chief Periods of Egyptian History:
OLD EMPIRE, with capital at Memphis; Dynasties 4-5 (2800-2500 B.
C. or earlier) and Dynasty 6.
MIDDLE EMPIRE, with capital at Thebes; Dynasties 11-13 (2200-1800
B. C. or earlier).
NEW EMPIRE, with capital at Thebes; Dynasties 17-20 (ca. 1600-1100
B. C.).
SAITE PERIOD; Dynasty 26 (663-525 B. C.).
One of the earliest Egyptian sculptures now existing, though
certainly not earlier than the Fourth Dynasty, is the great Sphinx
of Gizeh (Fig. 1). The creature crouches in the desert, a few
miles to the north of the ancient Memphis, just across the Nile
from the modern city of Cairo. With the body of a lion and the
head of a man, it represented a solar deity and was an object of
worship. It is hewn from the living rock and is of colossal size,
the height from the base to the top of the head being about 70
feet and the length of the body about 150 feet. The paws and
breast were originally covered with a limestone facing. The
present dilapidated condition of the monument is due partly to the
tooth of time, but still more to wanton mutilation at the hands of
fanatical Mohammedans. The body is now almost shapeless. The nose,
the beard, and the lower part of the head dress are gone. The face
is seamed with scars. Yet the strange monster still preserves a
mysterious dignity, as though it were guardian of all the secrets
of ancient Egypt, but disdained to betray them
"The art which conceived and carved this prodigious statue," says
Professor Maspero [Footnote: Manual of Egyptian Archaeology second
edition 1895 page 208] "was a finished art, an art which had
attained self mastery, and was sure of its effects. How many
centuries had it taken to arrive at this degree of maturity and
perfection?" It is impossible to guess. The long process of self-
schooling in artistic methods which must have preceded this work
is hidden from us. We cannot trace the progress of Egyptian art
from its timid, awkward beginnings to the days of its conscious
power, as we shall find ourselves able to do in the case of Greek
art. The evidence is annihilated, or is hidden beneath the sand
of the desert, perhaps to be one day revealed. Should that day
come, a new first chapter in the history of Egyptian art will have
to be written.
There are several groups of pyramids, large and small at Gizeh and
elsewhere, almost all of which belong to the Old Empire. The
three great pyramids of Gizeh are among the earliest. They were
built by three kings of the Fourth Dynisty, Cheops (Chufu),
Chephren (Chafre), and Mycerinus (Menkere) They are gigantic
sepulchral monuments in which the mummies of the kings who built
them were deposited. The pyramid of Cheops (Fig. 1, at the right),
the largest of all, was originally 481 feet 4 inches in height,
and was thus doubtless the loftiest structure ever reared in pre-
Christian times. The side of the square base measured 755 feet 8
inches. The pyramidal mass consists in the main of blocks of
limestone, and the exterior was originally cased with fine
limestone, so that the surfaces were perfectly smooth. At present
the casing is gone, and instead of a sharp point at the top there
is a platform about thirty feet square. In the heart of the mass
was the granite chamber where the king's mummy was laid. It was
reached by an ingenious system of passages, strongly barricaded.
Yet all these precautions were ineffectual to save King Cheops
from the hand of the spoiler. Chephren's pyramid (Fig. 1, at the
left) is not much smaller than that of Cheops, its present height
being about 450 feet, while the height of the third of this group,
that of Mycerinus, is about 210 feet. No wonder that the pyramids
came to be reckoned among the seven wonders of the world.
While kings erected pyramids to serve as their tombs, officials of
high rank were buried in, or rather under, structures of a
different type, now commonly known under the Arabic name of
mastabas. The mastaba may be described as a block of masonry of
limestone or sun-dried brick, oblong in plan, with the sides
built "battering," i.e., sloping inward, and with a flat top. It
had no architectural merits to speak of, and therefore need not
detain us. It is worth remarking, however, that some of these
mastabas contain genuine arches, formed of unbaked bricks. The
knowledge and use of the arch in Egypt go back then to at least
the period of the Old Empire. But the chief interest of the
mastabas lies in the fact that they have preserved to us most of
what we possess of early Egyptian sculpture. For in a small,
inaccessible chamber (serdab) reserved in the mass of masonry were
placed one or more portrait statues of the owner, and often of his
wife and other members of his household, while the walls of
another and larger chamber, which served as a chapel for the
celebration of funeral rites, were often covered with painted bas-
reliefs, representing scenes from the owner's life or whatever in
the way of funeral offering and human activity could minister to
his happiness.
One of the best of the portrait statues of this period is the
famous "Sheikh-el-Beled" (Chief of the Village), attributed to
the Fourth or Fifth Dynasty (Fig. 2). The name was given by the
Arab workmen, who, when the figure was first brought to light in
the cemetery of Sakkarah, thought they saw in it the likeness of
their own sheikh. The man's real name, if he was the owner of the
mastaba from whose serdab he was taken, was Ra-em-ka. The figure
is less than life-sized, being a little over three and one half
feet in height. It is of wood, a common material for sculpture in
Egypt. The arms were made separately (the left of two pieces) and
attached at the shoulders. The feet, which had decayed, have been
restored. Originally the figure was covered with a coating of
linen, and this with stucco, painted. "The eyeballs are of opaque
white quartz, set in a bronze sheath, which forms the eyelids; in
the center of each there is a bit of rock-crystal, and behind this
a shining nail" [Footnote: Musee de Gizeh: Notice Sommaire
(1892).]--a contrivance which produces a marvelously realistic
effect. The same thing, or something like it, is to be seen in
other statues of the period. The attitude of Ra-em-ka is the usual
one of Egyptian standing figures of all periods: the left leg is
advanced; both feet are planted flat on the ground; body and head
face squarely forward. The only deviation from the most usual type
is in the left arm, which is bent at the elbow, that the hand may
grasp the staff of office. More often the arms both hang at the
sides, the hands clenched, as in the admirable limestone figure of
the priest, Ra-nofer (Fig. 3).
The cross-legged scribe of the Louvre (Fig. 4) illustrates another
and less stereotyped attitude. This figure was found in the tomb
of one Sekhem-ka, along with two statues of the owner and a group
of the owner, his wife, and son. The scribe was presumably in the
employ of Sekhem-ka. The figure is of limestone, the commonest
material for these sepulchral statues, and, according to the
unvarying practice, was completely covered with color, still in
good preservation. The flesh is of a reddish brown, the regular
color for men. The eyes are similar to those of the Sheikh-el-
Beled. The man is seated with his legs crossed under him; a strip
of papyrus, held by his left hand, rests upon his lap; his right
hand held a pen.
The head shown in Fig. 5 belongs to a group, if we may give that
name to two figures carved from separate blocks of limestone and
seated stiffly side by side. Egyptian sculpture in the round never
created a genuine, integral group, in which two or more figures
are so combined that no one is intelligible without the rest; that
achievement was reserved for the Greeks. The lady in this case was
a princess; her husband, by whom she sits, a high priest of
Heliopolis. She is dressed in a long, white smock, in which there
is no indication of folds. On her head is a wig, from under which,
in front, her own hair shows. Her flesh is yellow, the
conventional tint for women, as brownish red was for men. Her eyes
are made of glass.
The specimens given have been selected with the purpose of showing
the sculpture of the Old Empire at its best. The all-important
fact to notice is the realism of these portraits. We shall see
that Greek sculpture throughout its great period tends toward the
typical and the ideal in the human face and figure. Not so in
Egypt. Here the task of the artist was to make a counterfeit
presentment of his subject and he has achieved his task at times
with marvelous skill. Especially the heads of the best statues
have an individuality and lifelikeness which have hardly been
surpassed in any age. But let not our admiration blind us to the
limitations of Egyptian art. The sculptor never attains to freedom
in the posing of his figures. Whether the subject sits, stands,
kneels, or squats, the body and head always face directly forward.
And we look in vain for any appreciation on the sculptor's part of
the beauty of the athletic body or of the artistic possibilities
of drapery.
There is more variety of pose in the painted bas-reliefs with
which the walls of the mastaba chapels are covered. Here are
scenes of agriculture, cattle-tending, fishing, bread-making, and
so on, represented with admirable vivacity, though with certain
fixed conventionalities of style. There are endless entertainment
and instruction for us in these pictures of old Egyptian life. Yet
no more here than in the portrait statues do we find a feeling for
beauty of form or a poetic, idealizing touch.
As from the Old Empire, so from the Middle Empire, almost the only
works of man surviving to us are tombs and their contents. These
tombs have no longer the simple mastaba form, but are either built
up of sun-dried brick in the form of a block capped by a pyramid
or are excavated in the rock. The former class offers little
interest from the architectural point of view. But some of the
rock-cut tombs of Beni-hasan, belonging to the Twelfth Dynasty,
exhibit a feature which calls for mention. These tombs have been
so made as to leave pillars of the living rock standing, both at
the entrance and in the chapel. The simplest of these pillars are
square in plan and somewhat tapering. Others, by the chamfering
off of their edges, have been made eight-sided. A repetition of
the process gave sixteen-sided pillars. The sixteen sides were
then hollowed out (channeled). The result is illustrated by Fig.
6. It will be observed that the pillar has a low, round base, with
beveled edge; also, at the top, a square abacus, which is simply a
piece of the original four-sided pillar, left untouched. Such
polygonal pillars as these are commonly called proto-Doric
columns. The name was given in the belief that these were the
models from which the Greeks derived their Doric columns, and this
belief is still held by many authorities.
With the New Empire we begin to have numerous and extensive
remains of temples, while those of an earlier date have mostly
disappeared. Fig. 7 may afford some notion of what an Egyptian
temple was like. This one is at Luxor, on the site of ancient
Thebes in Upper Egypt. It is one of the largest of all, being over
800 feet in length. Like many others, it was not originally
planned on its present scale, but represents two or three
successive periods of construction, Ramses II., of the Nineteenth
Dynasty, having given it its final form by adding to an already
finished building all that now stands before the second pair of
towers. As so extended, the building has three pylons, as they are
called, pylon being the name for the pair of sloping-sided towers
with gateway between. Behind the first pylon comes an open court
surrounded by a cloister with double rows of columns. The second
and third pylons are connected with one another by a covered
passage--an exceptional feature. Then comes a second open court;
then a hypostyle hall, i.e., a hall with flat roof supported by
columns; and finally, embedded in the midst of various chambers,
the relatively small sanctuary, inaccessible to all save the king
and the priests. Notice the double line of sphinxes flanking the
avenue of approach, the two granite obelisks at the entrance, and
the four colossal seated figures in granite representing Ramses
II.--all characteristic features.
Fig. 8 is taken from a neighboring and still more gigantic temple,
that of Karnak. Imagine an immense hall, 170 feet deep by 329 feet
broad. Down the middle run two rows of six columns each (the
nearest ones in the picture have been restored), nearly seventy
feet high. They have campaniform (bell-shaped) capitals. On either
side are seven rows of shorter columns, somewhat more than forty
feet high. These, as may be indistinctly seen at the right of our
picture, have capitals of a different type, called, from their
origin rather than from their actual appearance, lotiform or
lotus-bud capitals. There was a clerestory over the four central
rows of columns, with windows in its walls. The general plan,
therefore, of this hypostyle hall has some resemblance to that of
a Christian basilica, but the columns are much more numerous and
closely set. Walls and columns were covered with hieroglyphic
texts and sculptured and painted scenes. The total effect of this
colossal piece of architecture, even in its ruin, is one of
overwhelming majesty. No other work of human hands strikes the
beholder with such a sense of awe.
Fig. 9 is a restoration of one of the central columns of this
hall. Except for one fault, say Messrs. Perrot and
Chipiez,[Footnote: "Histoire de l'Art Egypte," page 576. The
translation given above differs from that in the English edition
of Perrot and Chipiez, "Art in Ancient Egypt," Vol. II., page
123.] "this column would be one of the most admirable creations of
art; it would hardly be inferior to the most perfect columns of
Greece." The one fault--a grave one to a critical eye--is the
meaningless and inappropriate block inserted between the capital
and the horizontal beam which it is the function of the column to
support. The type of column used in the side aisles of the hall at
Karnak is illustrated by Fig. 10, taken from another temple. It is
much less admirable, the contraction of the capital toward the top
producing an unpleasant effect.
Other specimens of these two types of column vary widely from
those of Karnak, for Egyptian architects did not feel obliged,
like Greek architects, to conform, with but slight liberty of
deviation, to established canons of form and proportion. Nor are
these two by any means the only forms of support used in the
temple architecture of the New Empire. The "proto-Doric" column
continued in favor under the New Empire, though apparently not
later; we find it, for example, in some of the outlying buildings
at Karnak. Then there was the column whose capital was adorned
with four heads in relief of the goddess Hathor, not to speak of
other varieties. Whatever the precise form of the support, it was
always used to carry a horizontal beam. Although the Egyptians
were familiar from very early times with the principle of the
arch, and although examples of its use occur often enough under
the New Empire, we do not find columns or piers used, as in Gothic
architecture, to carry a vaulting. In fact, the genuine vault is
absent from Egyptian temple architecture, although in the Temple
of Abydos false or corbelled vaults (cf. page 49) do occur.
Egyptian architects were not gifted with a fine feeling for
structural propriety or unity. A few of their small temples are
simple and coherent in plan and fairly tasteful in details. But it
is significant that a temple could always be enlarged by the
addition of parts not contemplated in the original design. The
result in such a case was a vast, rambling edifice, whose merits
consisted in the imposing character of individual parts, rather
than in an organic and symmetrical relation of parts to whole.
Statues of the New Empire are far more numerous than those of any
other period, but few of them will compare in excellence with the
best of those of the Old Empire. Colossal figures of kings abound,
chiseled with infinite patience from granite and other obdurate
rocks. All these and others may be passed over in order to make
room for a statue in the Louvre (Fig. 11), which is chosen, not
because of its artistic merits, but because of its material and
its subject. It is of bronze, somewhat over three feet in height,
thus being the largest Egyptian bronze statue known. It was cast
in a single piece, except for the arms, which were cast separately
and attached. The date of it is in dispute, one authority
assigning it to the Eighteenth Dynasty and another bringing it
down as late as the seventh century B.C. Be that as it may, the
art of casting hollow bronze figures is of high antiquity in
Egypt. The figure represents a hawk-headed god, Horus, who once
held up some object, probably a vase for libations. Egyptian
divinities are often represented with the heads of animals--
Anubis with the head of a jackal, Hathor with that of a cow, Sebek
with that of a crocodile, and so on. This in itself shows a lack
of nobility in the popular theology. Moreover it is clear that the
best talents of sculptors were engaged upon portraits of kings and
queens and other human beings, not upon figures of the gods. The
latter exist by the thousand, to be sure, but they are generally
small statuettes, a few inches high, in bronze, wood, or faience.
And even if sculptors had been encouraged to do their best in
bodying forth the forms of gods, they would hardly have achieved
high success. The exalted imagination was lacking.
Among the innumerable painted bas-reliefs covering the walls of
tombs and temples, those of the great Temple of Abydos in Upper
Egypt hold a high place. One enthusiastic art critic has gone so
far as to pronounce them "the most perfect, the most noble bas-
reliefs ever chiseled." A specimen of this work, now, alas! more
defaced than is here shown, is given in Fig. 12. King Seti I. of
the Nineteenth Dynasty stands in an attitude of homage before a
seated divinity, of whom almost nothing appears in the
illustration. On the palm of his right hand he holds a figure of
Maat, goddess of truth. In front of him is a libation-standard, on
which rests a bunch of lotus flowers, buds, and leaves. The first
remark to be made about this work is that it is genuine relief.
The forms are everywhere modeled, whereas in much of what is
commonly called bas-relief in Egypt, the figures are only outlined
and the spaces within the outlines are left flat. As regards the
treatment of the human figure, we have here the stereotyped
Egyptian conventions. The head, except the eye, is in profile, the
shoulders in front view, the abdomen in three-quarters view, the
legs again in profile. As a result of the distortion of the body,
the arms are badly attached at the shoulders. Furthermore the
hands, besides being very badly drawn, have in this instance the
appearance of being mismated with the arms, while both feet look
like right feet. The dress consists of the usual loin-cloth and of
a thin, transparent over-garment, indicated only by a line in
front and below. Now surely no one will maintain that these
methods and others of like sort which there is no opportunity here
to illustrate are the most artistic ever devised. Nevertheless
serious technical faults and shortcomings may coexist with great
merits of composition and expression. So it is in this relief of
Seti. The design is stamped with unusual refinement and grace. The
theme is hackneyed enough, but its treatment here raises it above
the level of commonplace.
Egyptian bas-reliefs were always completely covered with paint,
laid on in uniform tints. Paintings on a flat surface differ in no
essential respect from these painted bas-reliefs. The conventional
and untruthful methods of representing the human form, as well as
other objects--buildings, landscapes, etc.--are the same in the
former as in the latter. The coloring, too, is of the same sort,
there being no attempt to render gradations of color due to the
play of light and shade. Fig. 13, a lute-player from a royal tomb
of the Eighteenth Dynasty, illustrates some of these points. The
reader who would form an idea of the composition of extensive
scenes must consult works more especially devoted to Egyptian art.
He will be rewarded with many a vivid picture of ancient Egyptian
life.
Art was at a low ebb in Egypt during the centuries of Libyan and
Ethiopian domination which succeeded the New Empire. There was a
revival under the Saite monarchy in the seventh and sixth
centuries B.C. To this period is assigned a superb head of dark
green stone (Fig. 14), recently acquired by the Berlin Museum. It
has been broken from a standing or kneeling statue. The form of
the closely-shaven skull and the features of the strong face,
wrinkled by age, have been reproduced by the sculptor with
unsurpassable fidelity. The number of works emanating from the
same school as this is very small, but in quality they represent
the highest development of Egyptian sculpture. It is fit that we
should take our leave of Egyptian art with such a work as this
before us, a work which gives us the quintessence of the artistic
genius of the race.
Babylonia was the seat of a civilization perhaps more hoary than
that of Egypt. The known remains of Babylonian art, however, are
at present far fewer than those of Egypt and will probably always
be so. There being practically no stone in the country and wood
being very scarce, buildings were constructed entirely of bricks,
some of them merely sun-dried, others kiln-baked. The natural
wells of bitumen supplied a tenacious mortar. [Footnote: Compare
Genesis XI 3: "And they had brick for stone and slime had they for
mortar."] The ruins that have been explored at Tello, Nippur, and
elsewhere, belong to city walls, houses, and temples. The most
peculiar and conspicuous feature of the temple was a lofty
rectangular tower of several stages, each stage smaller than the
one below it. The arch was known and used in Babylonia from time
immemorial. As for the ornamental details of buildings, we know
very little about them except that large use was made of enameled
bricks.
The only early Babylonian sculptures of any consequence that we
possess are a collection of broken reliefs and a dozen sculptures
in the round, found in a group of mounds called Tello and now in
the Louvre. The reliefs are extremely rude. The statues are much
better and are therefore probably of later date, they are commonly
assigned by students of Babylonian antiquities to about 3000 B.C.
Fig. 15 reproduces one of them. The material, as of the other
statues found at the same place, is a dark and excessively hard
igneous rock (dolerite). The person represented is one Gudea, the
ruler of a small semi-independent principality. On his lap he has
a tablet on which is engraved the plan of a fortress, very
interesting to the student of military antiquities. The forms of
the body are surprisingly well given, even the knuckles of the
fingers being indicated. As regards the drapery, it is noteworthy
that an attempt has been made to render folds on the right breast
and the left arm. The skirt of the dress is covered with an
inscription in cuneiform characters.
Fig. 16 belongs to the same group of sculptures as the seated
figure just discussed. Although this head gives no such impression
of lifelikeness as the best Egyptian portraits, it yet shows
careful study. Cheeks, chin, and mouth are well rendered. The
eyelids, though too wide open, are still good; notice the inner
corners. The eyebrows are less successful. Their general form is
that of the half of a figure 8 bisected vertically, and the hairs
are indicated by slanting lines arranged in herring-bone fashion.
Altogether, the reader will probably feel more respect than
enthusiasm for this early Babylonian art and will have no keen
regret that the specimens of it are so few.
The Assyrians were by origin one people with the Chaldeans and
were therefore a branch of the great Semitic family. It is not
until the ninth century B.C. that the great period of Assyrian
history begins. Then for two and a half centuries Assyria was the
great conquering power of the world. Near the end of the seventh
century it was completely annihilated by a coalition of Babylonia
and Media.
With an insignificant exception or two the remains of Assyrian
buildings and sculptures all belong to the period of Assyrian
greatness. The principal sites where explorations have been
carried on are Koyunjik (Nineveh), Nimroud, and Khorsabad, and the
ruins uncovered are chiefly those of royal palaces. These
buildings were of enormous extent. The palace of Sennacherib at
Nineveh, for example, covered more than twenty acres. Although the
country possessed building stone in plenty, stone was not used
except for superficial ornamentation, baked and unbaked bricks
being the architect's sole reliance. This was a mere blind
following of the example of Babylonia, from which Assyria derived
all its culture. The palaces were probably only one story in
height. Their principal splendor was in their interior decoration
of painted stucco, enameled bricks, and, above all, painted
reliefs in limestone or alabaster.
The great Assyrian bas-reliefs covered the lower portions of the
walls of important rooms. Designed to enrich the royal palaces,
they drew their principal themes from the occupations of the
kings. We see the monarch offering sacrifice before a divinity,
or, more often, engaged in his favorite pursuits of war and
hunting. These extensive compositions cannot be adequately
illustrated by two or three small pictures. The most that can be
done is to show the sculptor's method of treating single figures.
Fig. 17 is a slab from the earliest series we possess, that
belonging to the palace of Asshur-nazir-pal (884-860 B.C.) at
Nimroud. It represents the king facing to right, with a bowl for
libation in his right hand and his bow in his left, while a eunuch
stands fronting him. The artistic style exhibited here remains
with no essential change throughout the whole history of Assyrian
art. The figures are in profile, except that the king's further
shoulder is thrown forward in much the fashion which we have found
the rule in Egypt, and the eyes appear as in front view. Both king
and attendant are enveloped in long robes, in which there is no
indication of folds, though fringes and tassels are elaborately
rendered. The faces are of a strongly marked Semitic cast, but
without any attempt at portraiture. The hair of the head ends in
several rows of snail-shell curls, and the king's beard has rows
of these curls alternating with more natural-looking portions.
Little is displayed of the body except the fore-arms, whose
anatomy, though intelligible, is coarse and false. As for minor
matters, such as the too high position of the ears, and the
unnatural shape of the king's right hand, it is needless to dwell
upon them. A cuneiform inscription runs right across the relief,
interrupted only by the fringes of the robes.
Fig. 18 shows more distinctly the characteristic Assyrian method
of representing the human head. Here are the same Semitic
features, the eye in front view, and the strangely curled hair and
beard. The only novelty is the incised line which marks the iris
of the eye. This peculiarity is first observed in work of Sargon's
time (722-705 B. C.).
A constant and striking feature of the Assyrian palaces was
afforded by the great, winged, human-headed bulls, which flanked
the principal doorways. The one herewith given (Fig. 19) is from
Sargon's palace at Khorsabad. The peculiar methods of Assyrian
sculpture are not ill suited to this fantastic creature, an
embodiment of force and intelligence. One special peculiarity will
not escape the attentive observer. Like all his kind, except in
Sennacherib's palace, this bull has five legs. He was designed to
be looked at from directly in front or from the side, not from an
intermediate point of view.
Assyrian art was not wholly without capacity for improvement.
Under Asshur-bam-pal (668-626), the Sardanapalus of the Greeks, it
reached a distinctly higher level than ever before. It is from his
palace at Nineveh that the slab partially shown in Fig. 20 was
obtained. Two demons, with human bodies, arms, and legs, but with
lions' heads, asses' ears, and eagles' talons, confront one
another angrily, brandishing daggers in their right hands.
Mesopotamian art was fond of such creatures, but we do not know
precisely what meaning was attached to the present scene. We need
therefore consider only stylistic qualities. As the two demons
wear only short skirts reaching from the waist to the knees, their
bodies are more exposed than those of men usually are. We note the
inaccurate anatomy of breast, abdomen, and back, in dealing with
which the sculptor had little experience to guide him. A marked
difference is made between the outer and the inner view of the
leg, the former being treated in the same style as the arms in
Fig. 17. The arms are here better, because less exaggerated. The
junction of human shoulders and animal necks is managed with no
sort of verisimilitude. But the heads, conventionalized though
they are, are full of vigor. One can almost hear the angry snarl
and see the lightning flash from the eyes.
It is, in fact, in the rendering of animals that Assyrian art
attains to its highest level. In Asshur-bam-pal's palace extensive
hunting scenes give occasion for introducing horses, dogs, wild
asses, lions, and lionesses, and these are portrayed with a keen
eye for characteristic forms and movements. One of the most famous
of these animal figures is the lioness shown in Fig. 21. The
creature has been shot through with three great arrows. Blood
gushes from her wounds. Her hind legs are paralyzed and drag
helplessly behind her. Yet she still moves forward on her fore-
feet and howls with rage and agony. Praise of this admirable
figure can hardly be too strong. This and others, of equal merit
redeem Assyrian art.
As has been already intimated, these bas-reliefs were always
colored, though, it would seem, only partially, whereas Egyptian
bas-reliefs were completely covered with color.
Of Assyrian stone sculpture in the round nothing has yet been
said. A few pieces exist, but their style is so essentially like
that of the bas-reliefs that they call for no separate discussion.
More interesting is the Assyrian work in bronze. The most
important specimens of this are some hammered reliefs, now in the
British Museum, which originally adorned a pair of wooden doors in
the palace of Shalmaneser III. at Balawat. The art of casting
statuettes and statues in bronze was also known and practiced, as
it had been much earlier in Babylonia, but the examples preserved
to us are few. For the decorative use which the Assyrians made of
color, our principal witnesses are then enameled bricks. These are
ornamented with various designs--men, genii, animals, and floral
patterns--in a few rich colors, chiefly blue and yellow. Of
painting, except in the sense of mural decoration, there is no
trace.
Egypt and Mesopotamia are, of all the countries around the
Mediterranean the only seats of an important, indigenous art,
antedating that of Greece. Other countries of Western Asia--Syria,
Phrygia, Phenicia, Persia, and so on--seem to have been rather
recipients and transmitters than originators of artistic
influences. For Egypt, Assyria, and the regions just named did not
remain isolated from one another. On the contrary, intercourse
both friendly and hostile was active, and artistic products, at
least of the small and portable kind, were exchanged. The paths of
communication were many, but there is reason for thinking that the
Phenicians, the great trading nation of early times, were
especially instrumental in disseminating artistic ideas. To these
influences Greece was exposed before she had any great art of her
own. Among the remains of prehistoric Greece we find, besides some
objects of foreign manufacture, others, which, though presumably
of native origin, are yet more or less directly inspired by
Egyptian or oriental models. But when the true history of Greek
art begins, say about 600 B. C., the influences from Egypt and
Asia sink into insignificance. It may be that the impulse to
represent gods and men in wood or stone was awakened in Greece by
the example of older communities. It may be that one or two types
of figures were suggested by foreign models. It may be that a hint
was taken from Egypt for the form of the Doric column and that the
Ionic capital derives from an Assyrian prototype. It is almost
certain that the art of casting hollow bronze statues was borrowed
from Egypt. And it is indisputable that some ornamental patterns
used in architecture and on pottery were rather appropriated than
invented by Greece. There is no occasion for disguising or
underrating this indebtedness of Greece to her elder neighbors.
But, on the other hand, it is important not to exaggerate the
debt. Greek art is essentially self-originated, the product of a
unique, incommunicable genius. As well might one say that Greek
literature is of Asiatic origin, because, forsooth, the Greek
alphabet came from Phenicia, as call Greek art the offspring of
Egyptian or oriental art because of the impulses received in the
days of its beginning. [Footnote: This comparison is perhaps not
original with the present writer.]
CHAPTER II.
PREHISTORIC ART IN GREECE.
Thirty years ago it would have been impossible to write with any
considerable knowledge of prehistoric art in Greece. The Iliad and
Odyssey, to be sure, tell of numerous artistic objects, but no
definite pictures of these were called up by the poet's words. Of
actual remains only a few were known. Some implements of stone,
the mighty walls of Tiryns, Mycenae, and many another ancient
citadel, four "treasuries," as they were often called, at Mycenae
and one at the Boeotian Orchomenus--these made up pretty nearly
the total of the visible relics of that early time. To-day the
case is far different. Thanks to the faith, the liberality, and
the energy of Heinrich Schliemann, an immense impetus has been
given to the study of prehistoric Greek archaeology. His
excavations at Troy, Mycenae, Tiryns, and elsewhere aroused the
world. He labored, and other men, better trained than he, have
entered into his labors. The material for study is constantly
accumulating, and constant progress is being made in classifying
and interpreting this material. A civilization antedating the
Homeric poems stands now dimly revealed to us. Mycenae, the city
"rich in gold," the residence of Agamemnon, whence he ruled over
"many islands and all Argos," [Footnote: Iliad II, 108] is seen to
have had no merely legendary preeminence. So conspicuous, in fact,
does Mycenae appear in the light as well of archaeology as of
epic, that it has become common, somewhat misleading though it is,
to call a whole epoch and a whole civilization "Mycenaean." This
"Mycenaean" civilization was widely extended over the Greek
islands and the eastern portions of continental Greece in the
second millennium before our era. Exact dates are very risky, but
it is reasonably safe to say that this civilization was in full
development as early as the fifteenth century B.C., and that it
was not wholly superseded till considerably later than 1000 B.C.
It is our present business to gain some acquaintance with this
epoch on its artistic side. It will be readily understood that our
knowledge of the long period in question is still very
fragmentary, and that, in the absence of written records, our
interpretation of the facts is hardly better than a groping in the
dark. Fortunately we can afford, so far as the purposes of this
book are concerned, to be content with a slight review. For it
seems clear that the "Mycenaean" civilization developed little
which can be called artistic in the highest sense of that term.
The real history of Greek art--that is to say, of Greek
architecture, sculpture, and painting--begins much later.
Nevertheless it will repay us to get some notion, however slight,
of such prehistoric Greek remains as can be included under the
broadest acceptation of the word "art."
In such a survey it is usual to give a place to early walls of
fortification, although these, to be sure, were almost purely
utilitarian in their character. The classic example of these
constructions is the citadel wall of Tiryns in Argolis. Fig. 22
shows a portion of this fortification on the east side, with the
principal approach. Huge blocks of roughly dressed limestone--some
of those in the lower courses estimated to weigh thirteen or
fourteen tons apiece--are piled one upon another, the interstices
having been filled with clay and smaller stones. This wall is of
varying thickness, averaging at the bottom about twenty-five feet.
At two places, viz., at the south end and on the east side near
the southeast corner, the thickness is increased, in order to give
room in the wall for a row of store chambers with communicating
gallery. Fig. 23 shows one of these galleries in its present
condition. It will be seen that the roof has been formed by
pushing the successive courses of stones further and further
inward from both sides until they meet. The result is in form a
vault, but the principle of the arch is not there, inasmuch as the
stones are not jointed radially, but lie on approximately
horizontal beds. Such a construction is sometimes called a
"corbelled" arch or vault.
Similar walls to those of Tiryns are found in many places, though
nowhere else are the blocks of such gigantic size. The Greeks of
the historical period Viewed these imposing structures with as
much astonishment as do we, and attributed them (of at least
those in Argohs) to the Cyclopes, a mythical folk, conceived in
this connection as masons of superhuman strength. Hence the
adjective Cyclopian or Cyclopean, whose meaning varies
unfortunately in modern usage, but which is best restricted to
walls of the Tirynthian type; that is to say, walls built of large
blocks not accurately fitted together, the interstices being
filled with small stones. This style of masonry seems to be always
of early date
Portions of the citadel wall of Mycenae are Cyclopean. Other
portions, quite probably of later date, show a very different
character (Fig. 24). Here the blocks on the outer surface of the
wall, though irregular in shape. are fitted together with close
joints. This style of masonry is called polygonal and is to be
carefully distinguished from Cyclopean, as above defined. Finally,
still other portions of this same Mycenaean wall show on the
outside a near approach to what is called ashlar masonry, in which
the blocks are rectangular and laid in even horizontal courses.
This is the case near the Lion Gate, the principal entrance to the
citadel. (Fig. 25)
Next to the walls of fortification the most numerous early remains
of the builder's art in Greece are the "bee-hive" tombs of which
many examples have been discovered in Argolis, Laconia, Attica,
Boeotia, Thessaly, and Crete. At Mycenae alone there are eight
now known, all of them outside the citadel. The largest and most
imposing of these, and indeed of the entire class, is the one
commonly referred to by the misleading name of the "Treasury of
Atreus." Fig 26 gives a section through this tomb. A straight
passage, A B, flanked by walls of ashlar masonry and open to the
sky, leads to a doorway, B. This doorway, once closed with heavy
doors, was framed with an elaborate aichitectural composition, of
which only small fragments now exist and these widely dispersed in
London, Berlin, Carlsruhe, Munich, Athens, and Mycenae itself. In
the decoration of this facade rosettes and running spirals played
a conspicuous part, and on either side of the doorway stood a
column which tapered downwards and was ornamented with spirals
arranged in zigzag bands. This downward-tapering column, so
unlike the columns of classic times, seems to have been in common
use in Mycenaean architecture. Inside the doors comes a short
passage, B C, roofed by two huge lintel blocks, the inner one of
which is estimated to weigh 132 tons. The principal chamber, D,
which is embedded in the hill, is circular in plan, with a lower
diameter of about forty-seven feet. Its wall is formed of
horizontal courses of stone, each pushed further inward than the
one below it, until the opening was small enough to be covered by
a single stone. The method of roofing is therefore identical in
principle with that used in the galleries and store chambers of
Tiryns; but here the blocks have been much more carefully worked
and accurately fitted, and the exposed ends have been so beveled
as to give to the whole interior a smooth, curved surface.
Numerous horizontal rows of small holes exist, only partly
indicated in our illustration, beginning in the fourth course from
the bottom and continuing at intervals probably to the top. In
some of these holes bronze nails still remain. These must have
served for the attachment of some sort of bronze decoration. The
most careful study of the disposition of the holes has led to the
conclusion that the fourth and fifth courses were completely
covered with bronze plates, presumably ornamented, and that above
this there were rows of single ornaments, possibly rosettes. Fig.
27 will give some idea of the present appearance of this chamber,
which is still complete, except for the loss of the bronze
decoration and two or three stones at the top. The small doorway
which is seen here, as well as in Fig. 26, leads into a
rectangular chamber, hewn in the living rock. This is much smaller
than the main chamber.
At Orchomenus in Boeotia are the ruins of a tomb scarcely inferior
in size to the "Treasury of Atreus" and once scarcely less
magnificent. Here too, besides the "bee-hive" construction, there
was a lateral, rectangular chamber--a feature which occurs only
in these two cases. Excavations conducted here by Schliemann in
1880-81 brought to light the broken fragments of a ceiling of
greenish schist with which this lateral chamber was once covered.
Fig. 28 shows this ceiling restored. The beautiful sculptured
decoration consists of elements which recur in almost the same
combination on a fragment of painted stucco from the palace of
Tiryns. The pattern is derived from Egypt.
The two structures just described were long ago broken into and
despoiled. If they stood alone, we could only guess at their
original purpose. But some other examples of the same class have
been left unmolested or less completely ransacked, until in recent
years they could be studied by scientific investigators.
Furthermore we have the evidence of numerous rock-cut chambers of
analogous shape, many of which have been recently opened in a
virgin condition. Thus it has been put beyond a doubt that these
subterranean "beehive" chambers were sepulchral monuments, the
bodies having been laid in graves within. The largest and best
built of these tombs, if not all, must have belonged to princely
families.
Even the dwelling-houses of the chieftains who ruled at Tiryns and
Mycenae are known to us by their remains. The palace of Tiryns
occupied the entire southern end of the citadel, within the
massive walls above described. Its ruins were uncovered in 1884-
85. The plan and the lower portions of the walls of an extensive
complex of gateways, open courts, and closed rooms were thus
revealed. There are remains of a similar building at Mycenae, but
less well preserved, while the citadels of Athens and Troy present
still more scanty traces of an analogous kind. The walls of the
Tirynthian palace were not built of gigantic blocks of stone, such
as were used in the citadel wall. That would have been a reckless
waste of labor. On the contrary, they were built partly of small
irregular pieces of stone, partly of sun-dried bricks. Clay was
used to hold these materials together, and beams of wood ("bond
timbers") were laid lengthwise here and there in the wall to give
additional strength. Where columns were needed, they were in every
case of wood, and consequently have long since decomposed and
disappeared. Considerable remains, however, were found of the
decorations of the interior. Thus there are bits of what must once
have been a beautiful frieze of alabaster, inlaid with pieces of
blue glass. A restored piece of this, sufficient to give the
pattern, is seen in Fig. 29. Essentially the same design, somewhat
simplified, occurs on objects of stone, ivory, and glass found at
Mycenae; and in a "bee-hive" tomb of Attica. Again, there are
fragments of painted stucco which decorated the walls of rooms in
the palace of Tiryns. The largest and most interesting of these
fragments is shown in Fig. 30. A yellow and red bull is
represented against a blue background, galloping furiously to
left, tail in air. Above him is a man of slender build, nearly
naked. With his right hand the man grasps one of the bull's horns;
his right leg is bent at the knee and the foot seems to touch with
its toes the bull's back; his outstretched left leg is raised high
in air. We have several similar representations on objects of the
Mycenaean period, the most interesting of which will be presently
described (see page 67). The comparison of these with one another
leaves little room for doubt that the Tirynthian fresco was
intended to portray the chase of a wild bull. But what does the
man's position signify? Has he been tossed into the air by the
infuriated animal? Has he adventurously vaulted upon the
creature's back? Or did the painter mean him to be running on the
ground, and, finding the problem of drawing the two figures in
their proper relation too much for his simple skill, did he adopt
the child-like expedient of putting one above the other? This last
seems much the most probable explanation, especially as the same
expedient is to be seen in several other designs belonging to this
period.
At Mycenae also, both in the principal palace which corresponds to
that of Tiryns and in a smaller house, remains of wall-frescoes
have been found. These, like those of Tiryns, consisted partly of
merely ornamental patterns, partly of genuine pictures, with human
and animal figures. But nothing has there come to light at once so
well preserved and so spirited as the bull-fresco from Tiryns.
Painting in the Mycenaean period seems to have been nearly, if not
entirely, confined to the decoration of house-walls and of
pottery. Similarly sculpture had no existence as a great,
independent art. There is no trace of any statue in the round of
life-size or anything approaching that. This agrees with the
impression we get from the Homeric poems, where, with possibly one
exception, [Footnote: Iliad VI, 273, 303.] there is no allusion to
any sculptured image. There are, to be sure, primitive statuettes,
one class of which, very rude and early, in fact pre-Mycenaean in
character, is illustrated by Fig. 31. Images of this sort have
been found principally on the islands of the Greek Archipelago.
They are made of marble or limestone, and represent a naked female
figure standing stiffly erect, with arms crossed in front below
the breasts. The head, is of extraordinary rudeness, the face of a
horse-shoe shape, often with no feature except a long triangular
nose. What religious ideas were associated with these barbarous
little images by their possessors we can hardly guess. We shall
see that when a truly Greek art came into being, figures of
goddesses and women were decorously clothed.
Excavations on Mycenaean sites have yielded quantities of small
figures, chiefly of painted terra-cotta (cf. Fig. 43), but also of
bronze or lead. Of sculpture on a larger scale we possess nothing
except the gravestones found at Mycenae and the relief which has
given a name, albeit an inaccurate one, to the Lion Gate. The
gravestones are probably the earlier. They were found within a
circular enclosure just inside the Lion Gate, above a group of six
graves--the so-called pit-graves or shaft-graves of Mycenae. The
best preserved of these gravestones is shown in Fig. 32. The
field, bordered by a double fillet, is divided horizontally into
two parts. The upper part is filled with an ingeniously contrived
system of running spirals. Below is a battle-scene: a man in a
chariot is driving at full speed, and in front there is a naked
foot soldier (enemy?), with a sword in his uplifted left hand.
Spirals, apparently meaningless, fill in the vacant spaces. The
technique is very simple. The figures having been outlined, the
background has been cut away to a shallow depth; within the
outlines there is no modeling, the surfaces being left flat. It is
needless to dwell on the shortcomings of this work, but it is
worth while to remind the reader that the gravestone commemorates
one who must have been an important personage, probably a
chieftain, and that the best available talent would have been
secured for the purpose.
The famous relief above the Lion Gate of Mycenae (Figs. 25, 33),
though probably of somewhat later date than the sculptured
gravestones, is still generally believed to go well back into the
second millennium before Christ. It represents two lionesses (not
lions) facing one another in heraldic fashion, their fore-paws
resting on what is probably to be called an altar or pair, of
altars; between them is a column, which tapers downward (cf. the
columns of the "Treasury of Atreus," page 53), surmounted by what
seems to be a suggestion of an entablature. The heads of the
lionesses, originally made of separate pieces and attached, have
been lost. Otherwise the work is in good preservation, in spite of
its uninterrupted exposure for more than three thousand years. The
technique is quite different from that of the gravestones, for all
parts of the relief are carefully modeled. The truth to nature is
also far greater here, the animals being tolerably life-like. The
design is one which recurs with variations on two or three
engraved gems of the Mycenaean period (cf Fig. 40), as well as in
a series of later Phrygian reliefs in stone. Placed in this
conspicuous position above the principal entrance to the citadel,
it may perhaps have symbolized the power of the city and its
rulers.
If sculpture in stone appears to have been very little practiced
in the Mycenaean age, the arts of the goldsmith, silversmith, gem-
engraver, and ivory carver were in great requisition. The shaft-
graves of Mycenae contained, besides other things, a rich treasure
of gold objects--masks, drinking-cups, diadems, ear-rings,
finger-rings, and so on, also several silver vases. One of the
latter may be seen in Fig. 43. It is a large jar, about two and
one half feet in height, decorated below with horizontal flutings
and above with continuous spirals in repousse (i.e., hammered)
work. Most of the gold objects must be passed over, interesting
though many of them are. But we may pause a moment over a group of
circular ornaments in thin gold-leaf about two and one half inches
in diameter, of which 701 specimens were found, all in a single
grave. The patterns on these discs were not executed with a free
hand, but by means of a mold. There are fourteen patterns in all,
some of them made up of spirals and serpentine curves, others
derived from vegetable and animal forms. Two of the latter class
are shown in Figs. 34, 35. One is a butterfly, the other a cuttle-
fish, both of them skilfully conventionalized. It is interesting
to note how the antennae of the butterfly and still more the arms
of the cuttle-fish are made to end in the favorite spiral.
The sculptures and gold objects which have been thus far described
or referred to were in all probability executed by native, or at
any rate by resident, workmen, though some of the patterns clearly
betray oriental influence. Other objects must have been, others
may have been, actually imported from Egypt or the East. It is
impossible to draw the line with certainty between native and
imported. Thus the admirable silver head of a cow from one of the
shaft-graves (Fig. 36) has been claimed as an Egyptian or a
Phenician production, but the evidence adduced is not decisive.
Similarly with the fragment of a silver vase shown in Fig. 37.
This has a design in relief (repousse) representing the siege of a
walled town or citadel. On the walls is a group of women making
frantic gestures. The defenders, most of them naked, are armed
with bows and arrows and slings. On the ground lie sling-stones
and throwing-sticks,[Footnote: So explained by Mr A. J. Evans in
The Journal of Hellenic Studies, XIII., page 199. ] which may be
supposed to have been hurled by the enemy. In the background there
are four nondescript trees, perhaps intended for olive trees.
Another variety of Mycenaean metal-work is of a much higher order
of merit than the dramatic but rude relief on this silver vase. I
refer to a number of inlaid dagger-blades, which were found in two
of the shaft-graves. Fig. 38 reproduces one side of the finest of
these. It is about nine inches long. The blade is of bronze, while
the rivets by which the handle was attached are of gold. The
design was inlaid in a separate thin slip of bronze, which was
then inserted into a sinking on the blade. The materials used are
various. The lions and the naked parts of the men are of gold, the
shields and trunks of the men of electrum (a mixture of gold and
silver), the hair of the men, the manes of the lions, and some
other details of an unidentified dark substance; the background,
to the edges of the inserted slip, was covered with a black
enamel. The scene is a lion-hunt. Four men, one armed only with a
bow, the others with lances and huge shields of two different
forms, are attacking a lion. A fifth hunter has fallen and lies
under the lion's fore-paws. The beast has already been run through
with a lance, the point of which is seen protruding from his
haunch; but he still shows fight, while his two companions dash
away at full speed. The design is skilfully composed to fill the
triangular space, and the attitudes of men and beasts are varied,
expressive, and fairly truthful. Another of these dagger-blades
has a representation of panthers hunting ducks by the banks of a
river in which what may be lotus plants are growing, The lotus
would point toward Egypt as the ultimate source of the design.
Moreover, a dagger of similar technique has been found in Egypt in
the tomb of a queen belonging to the end of the Seventeenth
Dynasty. On the other hand, the dress and the shields of the men
engaged in the lion-hunt are identical with those on a number of
other "Mycenaean" articles--gems, statuettes, etc.--which it is
difficult to regard as all of foreign importation. The
probability, then, seems to be that while the technique of the
dagger-blades was directly or indirectly derived from Egypt, the
specimens found at Mycenae were of local manufacture.
The greatest triumph of the goldsmith's art in the "Mycenaean"
period does not come from Mycenae. The two gold cups shown in Fig.
39 were found in 1888 in a bee-hive tomb at Vaphio in Laconia.
Each cup is double; that is to say, there is an outer cup, which
has been hammered into shape from a single disc of gold and which
is therefore without a joint, and an inner cup, similarly made,
whose upper edge is bent over the outer cup so as to hold the two
together. The horizontal parts of the handles are attached by
rivets, while the intervening vertical cylinders are soldered. The
designs in repousse work are evidently pendants to one another.
The first represents a hunt of wild bulls. One bull, whose
appearance indicates the highest pitch of fury, has dashed a
would-be captor to earth and is now tossing another on his horns.
A second bull, entangled in a stout net, writhes and bellows in
the vain effort to escape. A third gallops at full speed from the
scene of his comrade's captivity. The other design shows us four
tame bulls. The first submits with evident impatience to his
master. The next two stand quietly, with an almost comical effect
of good nature and contentment. The fourth advances slowly,
browsing. In each composition the ground is indicated, not only
beneath the men and animals, but above them, wherever the design
affords room. It is an example of the same naive perspective which
seems to have been employed in the Tirynthian bull-fresco (Fig.
30). The men, too, are of the same build here as there, and the
bulls have similarly curving horns. There are several trees on the
cups, two of which are clearly characterized as palms, while the
others resemble those in Fig. 37, and may be intended for olives.
The bulls are rendered with amazing spirit and understanding.
True, there are palpable defects, if one examines closely. For
example, the position of the bull in the net is quite impossible.
But in general the attitudes and expressions are as lifelike as
they are varied. Evidently we have here the work of an artist who
drew his inspiration directly from nature.
Engraved gems were in great demand in the Mycenaean period, being
worn as ornamental beads, and the work of the gem-engraver, like
that of the goldsmith, exhibits excellent qualities. The usual
material was some variety of ornamental stone--agate, jasper,
rock-crystal, etc. There are two principal shapes, the one
lenticular, the other elongated or glandular (Figs. 40, 41). The
designs are engraved in intaglio, but, our illustrations being
made, as is usual, from plaster impressions, they appear as
cameos. Among the subjects the lion plays an important part,
sometimes represented singly, sometimes in pairs, sometimes
devouring a bull or stag. Cattle, goats, deer, and fantastic
creatures (sphinxes, griffins, etc.) are also common. So are human
figures, often engaged in war or the chase. In the best of these
gems the work is executed with great care, and the designs, though
often inaccurate, are nevertheless vigorous. Very commonly,
however, the distortion of the figure is carried beyond all
bounds. Fig. 40 was selected for illustration, not because it is a
particularly favorable specimen of its class, but because it
offers an interesting analogy to the relief above the Lion Gate.
It represents two lions rampant, their fore-paws resting on an
altar (?), their heads, oddly enough, combined into one. The
column which figures in the relief above the gate is absent from
the gem, but is found on another specimen from Mycenae, where the
animals, however, are winged griffins. Fig. 41 has only a standing
man, of the wasp-waisted figure and wearing the girdle with which
other representations have now made us familiar.
It remains to glance at the most important early varieties of
Greek pottery. We need not stop here to study the rude, unpainted,
mostly hand-made vases from the earliest strata at Troy and
Tiryns, nor the more developed, yet still primitive, ware of the
island of Thera. But the Mycenaean pottery is of too great
importance to be passed over. This was the characteristic ware of
the Mycenaean civilization. The probability is that it was
manufactured at several different places, of which Mycenae may
have been one and perhaps the most important. It was an article of
export and thus found its way even into Egypt, where specimens
have been discovered in tombs of the Eighteenth Dynasty and later.
The variations in form and ornamentation are considerable, as is
natural with an article whose production was carried on at
different centers and during a period of centuries. Fig. 42 shows
a few of the characteristic shapes and decorations; some
additional pieces may be seen in Fig. 43. The Mycenaean vases are
mostly wheel-made. The decoration, in the great majority of
examples, is applied in a lustrous color, generally red, shading
to brown or black. The favorite elements of design are bands and
spirals and a variety of animal and vegetable forms, chiefly
marine. Thus the vase at the bottom of Fig. 42, on the left, has a
conventionalized nautilus; the one at the top, on the right, shows
a pair of lily-like plants; and the jug in the middle of Fig. 43
is covered with the stalks and leaves of what is perhaps meant for
seaweed. Quadrupeds and men belong to the latest period of the
style, the vase-painters of the early and central Mycenaean
periods having abstained, for some reason or other, from those
subjects which formed the stock in trade of the gem-engravers.
The Mycenaean pottery was gradually superseded by pottery of an
essentially different style, called Geometric, from the character
of its painted decorations. It is impossible to say when this
style made its first appearance in Greece, but it seems to have
flourished for some hundreds of years and to have lasted till as
late as the end of the eighth century B. C. It falls into several
local varieties, of which the most important is the Athenian. This
is commonly called Dipylon pottery, from the fact that the
cemetery near the Dipylon, the chief gate of ancient Athens, has
supplied the greatest number of specimens. Some of these Dipylon
vases are of great size and served as funeral monuments. Fig. 44
gives a good example of this class. It is four feet high. Both the
shape and the decoration are very different from those of the
Mycenaean style. The surface is almost completely covered by a
system of ornament in which zigzags, meanders, and groups of
concentric circles play an important part. In this system of
Geometric patterns zones or friezes are reserved for designs into
which human and animal figures enter. The center of interest is in
the middle of the upper frieze, between the handles. Here we see a
corpse upon a funeral bier, drawn by a two-horse wagon. To right
and left are mourners arranged in two rows, one above the other.
The lower frieze, which encircles the vase about at its middle,
consists of a line of two-horse chariots and their drivers. The
drawing of these designs is illustrated on a larger scale on the
right and left of the vase in Fig. 44; it is more childish than
anything we have seen from the Mycenaean period. The horses have
thin bodies, legs, and necks, and their heads look as much like
fishes as anything. The men and women are just as bad. Their heads
show no feature save, at most, a dot for the eye and a projection
for the nose, with now and then a sort of tassel for the hair;
their bodies are triangular, except those of the charioteers,
whose shape is perhaps derived from one form of Greek shield;
their thin arms, of varying lengths, are entirely destitute of
natural shape; their long legs, though thigh and calf are
distinguished, are only a shade more like reality than the arms.
Such incapacity on the part of the designer would be hard to
explain, were he to be regarded as the direct heir of the
Mycenaean culture. But the sources of the Geometric style are
probably to be sought among other tribes than those which were
dominant in the days of Mycenae's splendor. Greek tradition tells
of a great movement of population, the so-called Dorian migration,
which took place some centuries before the beginning of recorded
history in Greece. If that invasion and conquest of Peloponnesus
by ruder tribes from the North be a fact, then the hypothesis is a
plausible one which would connect the gradual disappearance of
Mycenaean art with that great change. Geometric art, according to
this theory, would have originated with the tribes which now came
to the fore.
Besides the Geometric pottery and its offshoots, several other
local varieties were produced in Greece in the eighth and seventh
centuries. These are sometimes grouped together under the name of
"orientalizing" styles, because, in a greater or less degree, they
show in their ornamentation the influence of oriental models, of
which the pure Geometric style betrays no trace. It is impossible
here to describe all these local wares, but a single plate from
Rhodes (Fig. 45) may serve to illustrate the degree of proficiency
in the drawing of the human figure which had been attained about
the end of the seventh century. Additional interest is lent to
this design by the names attached to the three men. The combatants
are Menelaus and Hector; the fallen warrior is Euphorbus. Here for
the first time we find depicted a scene from the Trojan War. From
this time on the epic legends form a large part of the repertory
of the vase-painters.
CHAPTER III.
GREEK ARCHITECTURE.
The supreme achievement of Greek architecture was the temple. In
imperial Rome, or in any typical city of the Roman Empire, the
most extensive and imposing buildings were secular--basilicas,
baths, amphitheaters, porticoes, aqueducts. In Athens, on the
other hand, or in any typical Greek city, there was little or
nothing to vie with the temples and the sacred edifices associated
with them. Public secular buildings, of course, there were, but
the little we know of them does not suggest that they often ranked
among the architectural glories of the country. Private houses
were in the best period of small pretensions. It was to the temple
and its adjunct buildings that the architectural genius and the
material resources of Greece were devoted. It is the temple, then,
which we have above all to study.
Before beginning, however, to analyze the artistic features of the
temple, it will be useful to consider the building materials which
a Greek architect had at his disposal and his methods of putting
them together. Greece is richly provided with good building stone.
At many points there are inexhaustible stores of white marble. The
island of Paros, one of the Cyclades, and Mount Pentelicus in
Attica--to name only the two best and most famous quarries--are
simply masses of white marble, suitable as well for the builder as
the sculptor. There are besides various beautiful colored marbles,
but it was left to the Romans to bring these into use. Then there
are many commoner sorts of stone ready to the builder's hand,
especially the rather soft, brown limestones which the Greeks
called by the general name of poros. [Footnote: The word has no
connection with porous] This material was not disdained, even for
important buildings. Thus the Temple of Zeus at Olympia, one of
the two most important religious centers in the Greek world, was
built of local poros. The same was the case with the numerous
temples of Acragas (Girgenti) and Selinus in Sicily. An even
meaner material, sun-dried brick, was sometimes, perhaps often,
employed for cella walls. Where poros or crude brick was used, it
was coated over with a very fine, hard stucco, which gave a
surface like that of marble.
It is remarkable that no use was made in Greece of baked bricks
before the period of Roman domination. Roof-tiles of terra-cotta
were in use from an early period, and Greek travelers to Babylonia
brought back word of the use of baked bricks in that country.
Nevertheless Greek builders showed no disposition to adopt baked
bricks for their masonry.
This probably hangs together with another important fact, the
absence of lime-mortar from Greek architecture. Lime-stucco was in
use from time immemorial. But lime-mortar, i.e., lime mixed with
sand and used as a bond for masonry, is all but unknown in Greek
work. [Footnote: The solitary exception at present known is an
Attic tomb built of crude bricks laid in lime-mortar] Consequently
in the walls of temples and other carefully constructed buildings
an elaborate system of bonding by means of clamps and dowels was
resorted to. Fig. 46 illustrates this and some other points. The
blocks of marble are seen to be perfectly rectangular and of
uniform length and height. Each end of every block is worked with
a slightly raised and well-smoothed border, for the purpose of
securing without unnecessary labor a perfectly accurate joint. The
shallow holes, III, III, in the upper surfaces are pry-holes,
which were of use in prying the blocks into position. The
adjustment having been made, contiguous blocks in the same course
were bonded to one another by clamps, I, I, embedded horizontally,
while the sliding of one course upon another was prevented by
upright dowels, II, II. Greek clamps and dowels were usually of
iron and they were fixed in their sockets by means of molten lead
run in. The form of the clamp differs at different periods. The
double-T shape shown in the illustration is characteristic of the
best age (cf. also Fig. 48).
Another important fact to be noted at the outset is the absence of
the arch from Greek architecture. It is reported by the Roman
philosopher, Seneca, that the principle of the arch was
"discovered" by the Greek philosopher, Democritus, who lived in
the latter half of the fifth century B. C. That he independently
discovered the arch as a practical possibility is most unlikely,
seeing that it had been used for ages in Egypt and Mesopotamia;
but it may be that he discussed, however imperfectly, the
mathematical theory of the subject. If so, it would seem likely
that he had practical illustrations about him; and this view
receives some support from the existence of a few subterranean
vaults which perhaps go back to the good Greek period. Be that as
it may, the arch plays absolutely no part in the columnar
architecture of Greece. In a Greek temple or similar building only
the flat ceiling was known. Above the exterior portico and the
vestibules of a temple the ceiling was sometimes of stone or
marble, sometimes of wood; in the interior it was always of wood.
It follows that no very wide space could be ceiled over without
extra supports. At Priene in Asia Minor we find a temple (Fig. 49)
whose cella, slightly over thirty feet in breadth, has no interior
columns. The architect of the Temple of Athena on the island of
AEgina (Fig. 52) was less venturesome. Although the cella there is
only 21 1/4 feet in breadth, we find, as in large temples, a
double row of columns to help support the ceiling. And when a
really large room was built, like the Hall of Initiation at
Eleusis or the Assembly Hall of the Arcadians at Megalopolis, such
a forest of pillars was required as must have seriously interfered
with the convenience of congregations. We are now ready to study
the plan of a Greek temple. The essential feature is an enclosed
chamber, commonly called by the Latin name cella, in which stood,
as a rule, the image of the god or goddess to whom the temple was
dedicated. Fig. 47 shows a very simple plan. Here the side walls
of the cella are prolonged in front and terminate in antae (see
below, page 88). Between the antae are two columns. This type of
temple is called a templum in antis. Were the vestibule (pronaos)
repeated at the other end of the building, it would be called an
opisthodomos, and the whole building would be a double templum in
antis. In Fig. 48 the vestibules are formed by rows of columns
extending across the whole width of the cella, whose side walls
are not prolonged. Did a vestibule exist at the front only, the
temple would be called prostyle; as it is, it is amphiprostyle.
Only small Greek temples have as simple a plan as those just
described. Larger temples are peripteral, i.e., are surrounded by
a colonnade or peristyle (Figs. 49. 50). In Fig. 49 the cella with
its vestibules has the form of a double templum in antis, in Fig
50 it is amphiprostyle. A further difference should be noted. In
Fig. 49, which is the plan of an Ionic temple, the antae and
columns of the vestibules are in line with columns of the outer
row, at both the ends and the sides; in Fig. 50, which is the plan
of a Doric temple, the exterior columns are set without regard to
the cella wall, and the columns of the vestibules. This is a
regular difference between Doric and Ionic temples, though the
rule is subject to a few exceptions in the case of the former.
The plan of almost any Greek temple will be found to be referable
to one or other of the types just described, although there are
great differences in the proportions of the several parts. It
remains only to add that in almost every case the principal front
was toward the east or nearly so. When Greek temples were
converted into Christian churches, as often happened, it was
necessary, in order to conform to the Christian ritual, to reverse
this arrangement and to place the principal entrance at the
western end.
The next thing is to study the principal elements of a Greek
temple as seen in elevation. This brings us to the subject of the
Greek "orders." There are two principal orders in Greek
architecture, the Doric and the Ionic. Figs. 51 and 61 show a
characteristic specimen of each. The term "order," it should be
said, is commonly restricted in architectural parlance to the
column and entablature. Our illustrations, however, show all the
features of a Doric and an Ionic facade. There are several points
of agreement between the two: in each the columns rest on a
stepped base, called the crepidoma, the uppermost step of which is
the stylobate; in each the shaft of the column tapers from the
lower to the upper end, is channeled or fluted vertically, and is
surmounted by a projecting member called a capital; in each the
entablature consists of three members--architrave, frieze, and
cornice. There the important points of agreement end. The
differences will best be fixed in mind by a detailed examination
of each order separately.
Our typical example of the Doric order (Fig. 51) is taken from the
Temple of Aphaia on the island of Aegina--a temple probably
erected about 480 B.C. (cf. Fig. 52.) The column consists of two
parts, shaft and capital. It is of sturdy proportions, its height
being about five and one half times the lower diameter of the
shaft. If the shaft tapered upward at a uniform rate, it would
have the form of a truncated cone. Instead of that, the shaft has
an ENTASIS or swelling. Imagine a vertical section to be made
through the middle of the column. If, then, the diminution of the
shaft were uniform, the sides of this section would be straight
lines. In reality, however, they are slightly curved lines, convex
outward. This addition to the form of a truncated cone is the
entasis. It is greatest at about one third or one half the height
of the shaft, and there amounts, in cases that have been measured,
to from 1/80 to 1/140 of the lower diameter of the
shaft.[Footnote: Observe that the entasis is so slight that the
lowest diameter of the shaft is always the greatest diameter. The
illustration is unfortunately not quite correct, since it gives
the shaft a uniform diameter for about one third of its height.]
In some early Doric temples, as the one at Assos in Asia Minor,
there is no entasis. The channels or flutes in our typical column
are twenty in number. More rarely we find sixteen; much more
rarely larger multiples of four. These channels are so placed that
one comes directly under the middle of each face of the capital.
They are comparatively shallow, and are separated from one another
by sharp edges or ARRISES. The capital, though worked out of one
block, may be regarded as consisting of two parts--a cushion-
shaped member called an ECHINUS, encircled below by three to five
ANNULETS, (cf. Figs. 59, 60) and a square slab called an ABACUS,
the latter so placed that its sides are parallel to the sides of
the building. The ARCHITRAVE is a succession of horizontal beams
resting upon the columns. The face of this member is plain, except
that along the upper edge there runs a slightly projecting flat
band called a TAENIA, with regulae and guttae at equal intervals;
these last are best considered in connection with the frieze. The
FRIEZE is made up of alternating triglyphs and metopes. A TRIGLYPH
is a block whose height is nearly twice its width; upon its face
are two furrows, triangular in plan, and its outer edges are
chamfered off. Thus we may say that the triglyph has two furrows
and two half-furrows; these do not extend to the top of the block.
A triglyph is placed over the center of each column and over the
center of each intercolumniation. But at the corners of the
buildings the intercolumniations are diminished, with the result
that the corner triglyphs do not stand over the centers of the
corner columns, but farther out (cf. Fig. 52). Under each triglyph
there is worked upon the face of the architrave, directly below
the taenia, a REGULA, shaped like a small cleat, and to the under
surface of this regula is attached a row of six cylindrical or
conical GUTTAE. Between every two triglyphs, and standing a little
farther back, there is a square or nearly square slab or block
called a METOPE. This has a flat band across the top; for the
rest, its face may be either plain or sculptured in relief. The
uppermost member of the entablature, the CORNICE, consists
principally of a projecting portion, the CORONA, on whose inclined
under surface or soffit are rectangular projections, the so-called
MUTULES (best seen in the frontispiece), one over each triglyph
and each metope. Three rows of six guttae each are attached to the
under surface of a mutule. Above the cornice, at the east and west
ends of the building, come the triangular PEDIMENTS or gables,
formed by the sloping roof and adapted for groups of sculpture.
The pediment is protected above by a "raking" cornice, which has
not the same form as the horizontal cornice, the principal
difference being that the under surface of the raking cornice is
concave and without mutules. Above the raking cornice comes a SIMA
or gutter-facing, which in buildings of good period has a
curvilinear profile. This sima is sometimes continued along the
long sides of the building, and sometimes not. When it is so
continued, water-spouts are inserted into it at intervals, usually
in the form of lions' heads. Fig 53 shows a fine lion's head of
this sort from a sixth century temple on the Athenian Acropolis.
If it be added that upon the apex and the lower corners of the
pediment there were commonly pedestals which supported statues or
other ornamental objects (Fig. 52), mention will have been made of
all the main features of the exterior of a Doric peripteral
temple.
Every other part of the building had likewise its established
form, but it will not be possible here to describe or even to
mention every detail. The most important member not yet treated of
is the ANTA. An anta may be described as a pilaster forming the
termination of a wall. It stands directly opposite a column and is
of the same height with it, its function being to receive one end
of an architrave block, the other end of which is borne by the
column. The breadth of its front face is slightly greater than the
thickness of the wall; the breadth of a side face depends upon
whether or not the anta supports an architrave on that side (Figs.
47, 48, 49, 50). The Doric anta has a special capital, quite
unlike the capital of the column. Fig. 54 shows an example from a
building erected in 437-32 B. C. Its most striking feature is the
DORIC CYMA, or HAWK'S-BEAK MOLDING, the characteristic molding of
the Doric style (Fig. 55), used also to crown the horizontal
cornice and in other situations (Fig. 51 and frontispiece). Below
the capital the anta is treated precisely like the wall of which
it forms a part; that is to say, its surfaces are plain, except
for the simple base-molding, which extends also along the foot of
the wall. The method of ceiling the peristyle and vestibules by
means of ceiling-beams on which rest slabs decorated with square,
recessed panels or COFFERS may be indistinctly seen in Fig. 56.
Within the cella, when columns were used to help support the
wooden ceiling, there seem to have been regularly two ranges, one
above the other. This is the only case, so far as we know, in
which Greek architecture of the best period put one range of
columns above another. There were probably no windows of any kind,
so that the cella received no daylight, except such as entered by
the great front doorway, when the doors were open. [Footnote: This
whole matter, however, is in dispute. Some authorities believe
that large temples were HYPOETHRAL, i. e., open, or partly open,
to the sky, or in some way lighted from above. In Fig. 56 an open
grating has been inserted above the doors, but for such an
arrangement in a Greek temple there is no evidence, so far as I am
aware.] The roof-beams were of wood. The roof was covered with
terra-cotta or marble tiles.
Such are the main features of a Doric temple (those last mentioned
not being peculiar to the Doric style). Little has been said thus
far of variation in these features. Yet variation there was. Not
to dwell on local differences, as between Greece proper and the
Greek colonies in Sicily, there was a development constantly going
on, changing the forms of details and the relative proportions of
parts and even introducing new features originally foreign to the
style. Thus the column grows slenderer from century to century. In
early examples it is from four to five lower diameters in height
in the best period (fifth and fourth centuries) about five and one
half, in the post classical period, six to seven. The difference
in this respect between early and late examples may be seen by
comparing the sixth century Temple of Posidon (?) at Paestum in
southern Italy (Fig. 57) with the third (?) century Temple of Zeus
at Nemea (Fig. 58). Again, the echinus of the capital is in the
early period widely flaring, making in some very early examples an
angle at the start of not more than fifteen or twenty degrees with
the horizontal (Fig. 59); in the best period it rises more
steeply, starting at an angle of about fifty degrees with the
horizontal and having a profile which closely approaches a
straight line, until it curves inward under the abacus (Fig. 51);
in the post-classical period it is low and sometimes quite conical
(Fig. 60). In general, the degeneracy of post-classical Greek
architecture is in nothing more marked than in the loss of those
subtle curves which characterize the best Greek work. Other
differences must be learned from more extended treatises.
The Ionic order was of a much more luxuriant character than the
Doric. Our typical example (Fig. 61) is taken from the Temple of
Priene in Asia Minor--a temple erected about 340-30 B. C. The
column has a base consisting of a plain square PLINTH, two
TROCHILI with moldings, and a TORUS fluted horizontally. The Ionic
shaft is much slenderer than the Doric, the height of the column
(including base and capital) being in different examples from
eight to ten times the lower diameter of the shaft. The diminution
of the shaft is naturally less than in the Doric, and the entasis,
where any has been detected, is exceedingly slight. The flutes,
twenty-four in number, are deeper than in the Doric shaft, being
in fact nearly or quite semicircular, and they are separated from
one another by flat bands or fillets. For the form of the capital
it will be better to refer to Fig. 62, taken from an Attic
building of the latter half of the fifth century. The principal
parts are an OVOLO and a SPIRAL ROLL (the latter name not in
general use). The ovolo has a convex profile, and is sometimes
called a quarter-round; it is enriched with an EGG-AND-DART
ornament The spiral roll may be conceived as a long cushion, whose
ends are rolled under to form the VOLUTES. The part connecting the
volutes is slightly hollowed, and the channel thus formed is
continued into the volutes. As seen from the side (Fig. 63), the
end of the spiral roll is called a BOLSTER; it has the appearance
of being drawn together by a number of encircling bands. On the
front, the angles formed by the spiral roll are filled by a
conventionalized floral ornament (the so-called PALMETTE). Above
the spiral roll is a low abacus, oblong or square in plan. In Fig.
62 the profile of the abacus is an ovolo on which the egg-and-dart
ornament was painted (cf. Fig. 66, where the ornament is
sculptured). In Fig. 61, as in Fig. 71, the profile is a complex
curve called a CYMA REVERSA, convex above and concave below,
enriched with a sculptured LEAF-AND-DART ornament. [Footnote: The
egg-and-dart is found only on the ovolo, the leaf-and-dart only on
the cyma reversa or the cyma recta (concave above and convex
below) Both ornaments are in origin leaf-patterns one row of
leaves showing their points behind another row.] Finally,
attention may be called to the ASTRAGAL or PEARL-BEADING just
under the ovolo in Figs. 61, 71. This might be described as a
string of beads and buttons, two buttons alternating with a single
bead.
In the normal Ionic capital the opposite faces are of identical
appearance. If this were the case with the capital at the corner
of a building, the result would be that on the side of the
building all the capitals would present their bolsters instead of
their volutes to the spectator. The only way to prevent this was
to distort the corner capital into the form shown by Fig. 64; cf.
also Figs. 61 and 70.
The Ionic architrave is divided horizontally into three (or
sometimes two) bands, each of the upper ones projecting slightly
over the one below it. It is crowned by a sort of cornice enriched
with moldings. The frieze is not divided like the Doric frieze,
but presents an uninterrupted surface. It may be either plain or
covered with relief-sculpture. It is finished off with moldings
along the upper edge. The cornice (cf. Fig. 65) consists of two
principal parts. First comes a projecting block, into whose face
rectangular cuttings have been made at short intervals, thus
leaving a succession of cogs or DENTELS; above these are moldings.
Secondly there is a much more widely projecting block, the CORONA,
whose under surface is hollowed to lighten the weight and whose
face is capped with moldings. The raking cornice is like the
horizontal cornice except that it has no dentels. The sima or
gutter-facing, whose profile is here a cyma recta (concave above
and convex below), is enriched with sculptured floral ornament.
In the Ionic buildings of Attica the base of the column consists
of two tori separated by a trochilus. The proportions of these
parts vary considerably. The base in Fig. 66 (from a building
finished about 408 B.C.) is worthy of attentive examination by
reason of its harmonious proportions. In the Roman form of this
base, too often imitated nowadays, the trochilus has too small a
diameter. The Attic-Ionic cornice never has dentels, unless the
cornice of the Caryatid portico of the Erechtheum ought to be
reckoned as an instance (Fig. 67).
The capital shown in Fig. 66 is a special variety of the Ionic
capital, of rather rare occurrence. Its distinguishing features
are the insertion between ovolo and spiral roll of a torus
ornamented with a braided pattern, called a GUILLOCHE; the absence
of the palmettes from the corners formed by the spiral roll; and
the fact that the channel of the roll is double instead of single,
which gives a more elaborate character to that member. Finally, in
the Erechtheum the upper part or necking of the shaft is enriched
with an exquisitely wrought band of floral ornament, the so-called
honeysuckle pattern. This feature is met with in some other
examples.
As in the Doric style, so in the Ionic, the anta-capital is quite
unlike the column-capital. Fig. 68 shows an anta-capital from the
Erechtheum, with an adjacent portion of the wall-band; cf. also
Fig. 69. Perhaps it is inaccurate in this case to speak of an
anta-capital at all, seeing that the anta simply shares the
moldings which crown the wall. The floral frieze under the
moldings is, however, somewhat more elaborate on the anta than on
the adjacent wall. The Ionic method of ceiling a peristyle or
portico may be partly seen in Fig 69. The principal ceiling-beams
here rest upon the architrave, instead of upon the frieze, as in a
Doric building (cf. Fig. 56). Above were the usual coffered slabs.
The same illustration shows a well-preserved and finely
proportioned doorway, but unfortunately leaves the details of its
ornamentation indistinct.
The Ionic order was much used in the Greek cities of Asia Minor
for peripteral temples. The most considerable remains of such
buildings, at Ephesus, Priene, etc., belong to the fourth century
or later. In Greece proper there is no known instance of a
peripteral Ionic temple, but the order was sometimes used for
small prostyle and amphiprostyle buildings, such as the Temple of
Wingless Victory in Athens (Fig. 70). Furthermore, Ionic columns
were sometimes employed in the interior of Doric temples, as at
Bassae in Arcadia and (probably) in the temple built by Scopas at
Tegea. In the Propylaea or gateway of the Athenian Acropolis we
even find the Doric and Ionic orders juxtaposed, the exterior
architecture being Doric and the interior Ionic, with no wall to
separate them. One more interesting occurrence of the Ionic order
in Greece proper may be mentioned, viz., in the Philippeum at
Olympia (about 336 B.C.). This is a circular building, surrounded
by an Ionic colonnade. Still other types of building afforded
opportunity enough for the employment of this style.
After what has been said of the gradual changes in the Doric
order, it will be understood that the Ionic order was not the same
in the sixth century as in the fifth, nor in the fifth the same as
in the third. The most striking change concerns the spiral roll of
the capital. In the good period the portion of this member which
connects the volutes is bounded below by a depressed curve,
graceful and vigorous. With the gradual degradation of taste this
curve tended to become a straight line, the result being the
unlovely, mechanical form shown in Fig. 71 (from a building of
Ptolemy Philadelphus, who reigned from 283 to 246 B.C.). Better
formed capitals than this continued for some time to be made in
Greek lands; but the type just shown, or rather something
resembling it in the disagreeable feature noted, became canonical
with Roman architects.
The Corinthian order, as it is commonly called, hardly deserves to
be called a distinct order. Its only peculiar feature is the
capital; otherwise it agrees with the Ionic order. The Corinthian
capital is said to have been invented in the fifth century; and a
solitary specimen, of a meager and rudimentary type, found in 1812
in the Temple of Apollo at Bassae, but since lost, was perhaps an
original part of that building (about 430 B. C). At present the
earliest extant specimens are from the interior of a round
building of the fourth century near Epidaurus in Argolis (Fig.
72). [Footnote: For some reason or other the particular capital
shown in our illustration was not used in the building, but it is
of the same model as those actually used, except that the edge of
the abacus is not finished.] It was from such a form as this that
the luxuriant type of Corinthian capital so much in favor with
Roman architects and their public was derived. On the other hand,
the form shown in Fig. 73, from a little building erected in 334
B.C. or soon after, is a variant which seems to have left no
lineal successors. In its usual form the Corinthian capital has a
cylindrical core, which expands slightly toward the top so as to
become bell-shaped; around the lower part of this core are two
rows of conventionalized acanthus leaves, eight in each row; from
these rise eight principal stalks (each, in fully developed
examples, wrapped about its base with an acanthus leaf) which
combine, two and two, to form four volutes (HELICES), one under
each corner of the abacus, while smaller stalks, branching from
the first, cover the rest of the upper part of the core; there is
commonly a floral ornament on the middle of each face at the top;
finally the abacus has, in plan, the form of a square whose sides
have been hollowed out and whose corners have been truncated. In
the form shown in Fig. 73 we find, first, a row of sixteen simple
leaves, like those of a reed, with the points of a second row
showing between them; then a single row of eight acanthus leaves;
then the scroll-work, supporting a palmette on each side; and
finally an abacus whose profile is made up of a trochilus and an
ovolo. This capital, though extremely elegant, is open to the
charge of appearing weak at its middle. There is a much less
ornate variety, also reckoned as Corinthian, which has no scroll-
work, but only a row of acanthus leaves with a row of reed leaves
above them around a bell-shaped core, the whole surmounted by a
square abacus. In the Choragic Monument of Lysicrates the cornice
has dentels, and this was always the case, so far as we know,
where the Corinthian capital was used. In Corinthian buildings the
anta, where met with, has a capital like that of the column. But
there is very little material to generalize from until we descend
to Roman times.
Some allusion has been made in the foregoing to other types of
columnar buildings besides the temple. The principal ones of which
remains exist are PROPYLAEA and STOAS. Propylaea is the Greek name
for a form of gateway, consisting essentially of a cross wall
between side walls, with a portico on each front. Such gateways
occur in many places as entrances to sacred precincts. The finest
example, and one of the noblest monuments of Greek architecture,
is that at the west end of the Athenian Acropolis. The stoa may be
defined as a building having an open range of columns on at least
one side. Usually its length was much greater than its depth.
Stoas were often built in sacred precincts, as at Olympia, and
also for secular purposes along public streets, as in Athens.
These and other buildings into which the column entered as an
integral feature involved no new architectural elements or
principles.
One highly important fact about Greek architecture has thus far
been only touched upon; that is, the liberal use it made of color.
The ruins of Greek temples are to-day monochromatic, either
glittering white, as is the temple at Sunium, or of a golden
brown, as are the Parthenon and other buildings of Pentelic
marble, or of a still warmer brown, as are the limestone temples
of Paestum and Girgenti (Acragas). But this uniformity of tint is
due only to time. A "White City," such as made the pride of
Chicago in 1893, would have been unimaginable to an ancient Greek.
Even to-day the attentive observer may sometimes see upon old
Greek buildings, as, for example, upon ceiling-beams of the
Parthenon, traces left by patterns from which the color has
vanished. In other instances remains of actual color exist. So
specks of blue paint may still be seen, or might a few years ago,
on blocks belonging to the Athenian Propylaea. But our most
abundant evidence for the original use of color comes from
architectural fragments recently unearthed. During the excavation
of Olympia (1875-81) this matter of the coloring of architecture
was constantly in mind and a large body of facts relating to it
was accumulated. Every new and important excavation adds to the
store. At present our information is much fuller in regard to the
polychromy of Doric than of Ionic buildings. It appears that, just
as the forms and proportions of a building and of all its details
were determined by precedent, yet not so absolutely as to leave no
scope for the exercise of individual genius, so there was an
established system in the coloring of a building, yet a system
which varied somewhat according to time and place and the taste of
the architect. The frontispiece attempts to suggest what the
coloring of the Parthenon was like, and thus to illustrate the
general scheme of Doric polychromy. The colors used were chiefly
dark blue, sometimes almost black, and red; green and yellow also
occur, and some details were gilded. The coloration of the
building was far from total. Plain surfaces, as walls, were
unpainted. So too were the columns, including, probably, their
capitals, except between the annulets. Thus color was confined to
the upper members--the triglyphs, the under surface (soffit) of
the cornice, the sima, the anta-capitals (cf. Fig. 54), the
ornamental details generally, the coffers of the ceiling, and the
backgrounds of sculpture. [Footnote: Our frontispiece gives the
backgrounds of the metopes as plain, but this is probably an
error] The triglyphs, regulae, and mutules were blue; the taenia
of the architrave and the soffit of the cornice between the
mutules with the adjacent narrow bands were red; the backgrounds
of sculpture, either blue or red; the hawk's-beak molding,
alternating blue and red; and so on. The principal uncertainty
regards the treatment of the unpainted members. Were these left of
a glittering white, or were they toned down, in the case of marble
buildings, by some application or other, so as to contrast less
glaringly with the painted portions? The latter supposition
receives some confirmation from Vitruvius, a Roman writer on
architecture of the age of Augustus, and seems to some modern
writers to be demanded by aesthetic considerations. On the other
hand, the evidence of the Olympia buildings points the other way.
Perhaps the actual practice varied. As for the coloring of Ionic
architecture, we know that the capital of the column was painted,
but otherwise our information is very scanty.
If it be asked what led the Greeks to a use of color so strange to
us and, on first acquaintance, so little to our taste, it may be
answered that possibly the example of their neighbors had
something to do with it. The architecture of Egypt, of
Mesopotamia, of Persia, was polychromatic. But probably the
practice of the Greeks was in the main an inheritance from the
early days of their own civilization. According to a well-
supported theory, the Doric temple of the historical period is a
translation into stone or marble of a primitive edifice whose
walls were of sun-dried bricks and whose columns and entablature
were of wood. Now it is natural and appropriate to paint wood; and
we may suppose that the taste for a partially colored architecture
was thus formed. This theory does not indeed explain everything.
It does not, for example, explain why the columns or the
architrave should be uncolored. In short, the Greek system of
polychromy presents itself to us as a largely arbitrary system.
More interesting than the question of origin is the question of
aesthetic effect. Was the Greek use of color in good taste? It is
not easy to answer with a simple yes or no. Many of the attempts
to represent the facts by restorations on paper have been crude
and vulgar enough. On the other hand, some experiments in
decorating modern buildings with color, in a fashion, to be sure,
much less liberal than that of ancient Greece, have produced
pleasing results. At present the question is rather one of faith
than of sight; and most students of the subject have faith to
believe that the appearance of a Greek temple in all its pomp of
color was not only sumptuous, but harmonious and appropriate.
When we compare the architecture of Greece with that of other
countries, we must be struck with the remarkable degree in which
the former adhered to established usage, both in the general plan
of a building and in the forms and proportions of each feature.
Some measure of adherence to precedent is indeed implied in the
very existence of an architectural style. What is meant is that
the Greek measure was unusual, perhaps unparalleled. Yet the
following of established canons was not pushed to a slavish
extreme. A fine Greek temple could not be built according to a
hard and fast rule. While the architect refrained from bold and
lawless innovations, he yet had scope to exercise his genius. The
differences between the Parthenon and any other contemporary Doric
temple would seem slight, when regarded singly; but the preeminent
perfection of the Parthenon lay in just those skilfully calculated
differences
A Greek columnar building is extremely simple in form.[Footnote:
The substance of this paragraph and the following is borrowed from
Boutmy, "Philosophie de l'Architecture en Grece" (Paris, 1870)]
The outlines of an ordinary temple are those of an oblong
rectangular block surmounted by a triangular roof. With a
qualification to be explained presently, all the lines of the
building, except those of the roof, are either horizontal or
perpendicular. The most complicated Greek columnar buildings
known, the Erechtheum and the Propylaea of the Athenian Acropolis,
are simplicity itself when compared to a Gothic cathedral, with
its irregular plan, its towers, its wheel windows, its
multitudinous diagonal lines.
The extreme simplicity which characterizes the general form of a
Greek building extends also to its sculptured and painted
ornaments. In the Doric style these are very sparingly used; and
even the Ionic style, though more luxuriant, seems reserved in
comparison with the wealth of ornamental detail in a Gothic
cathedral. Moreover, the Greek ornaments are simple in character.
Examine again the hawk's-beak, the egg-and-dart, the leaf-and-
dart, the astragal, the guilloche, the honeysuckle, the meander or
fret. These are almost the only continuous patterns in use in
Greek architecture. Each consists of a small number of elements
recurring in unvarying order; a short section is enough to give
the entire pattern. Contrast this with the string-course in the
nave of the Cathedral of Amiens, where the motive of the design
undergoes constant variation, no piece exactly duplicating its
neighbor, or with the intricate interlacing patterns of Arabic
decoration, and you will have a striking illustration of the Greek
love for the finite and comprehensible.
When it was said just now that the main lines of a Greek temple
are either horizontal or perpendicular, the statement called for
qualification. The elevations of the most perfect of Doric
buildings, the Parthenon, could not be drawn with a ruler. Some of
the apparently straight lines are really curved. The stylobate is
not level, but convex, the rise of the curve amounting to 1/450 of
the length of the building; the architrave has also a rising
curve, but slighter than that of the stylobate. Then again, many
of the lines that would commonly be taken for vertical are in
reality slightly inclined. The columns slope inward and so do the
principal surfaces of the building, while the anta-capitals slope
forward. These refinements, or some of them, have been observed in
several other buildings. They are commonly regarded as designed to
obviate certain optical illusions supposed to arise in their
absence. But perhaps, as one writer has suggested, their principal
office was to save the building from an appearance of mathematical
rigidity, to give it something of the semblance of a living thing.
Be that as it may, these manifold subtle curves and sloping lines
testify to the extraordinary nicety of Greek workmanship. A column
of the Parthenon, with its inclination, its tapering, its entasis,
and its fluting, could not have been constructed without the most
conscientious skill. In fact, the capabilities of the workmen kept
pace with the demands of the architects. No matter how delicate
the adjustment to be made, the task was perfectly achieved. And
when it came to the execution of ornamental details, these were
wrought with a free hand and, in the best period, with fine
artistic feeling. The wall-band of the Erechtheum is one of the
most exquisite things which Greece has left us.
Simplicity in general form, harmony of proportion, refinement of
line--these are the great features of Greek columnar architecture.
One other type of Greek building, into which the column does not
enter, or enters only in a very subordinate way, remains to be
mentioned--the theater. Theaters abounded in Greece. Every
considerable city and many a smaller place had at least one, and
the ruins of these structures rank with temples and walls of
fortification among the commonest classes of ruins in Greek lands.
But in a sketch of Greek art they may be rapidly dismissed. That
part of the theater which was occupied by spectators--the
auditorium, as we may call it--was commonly built into a natural
slope, helped out by means of artificial embankments and
supporting walls. There was no roof. The building, therefore, had
no exterior, or none to speak of. Such beauty as it possessed was
due mainly to its proportions. The theater at the sanctuary of
Asclepius near Epidaurus, the work of the same architect who built
the round building with the Corinthian columns referred to on page
103, was distinguished in ancient times for "harmony and beauty,"
as the Greek traveler, Pausamas (about 165 A. D.), puts it. It is
fortunately one of the best preserved. Fig. 74, a view taken from
a considerable distance will give some idea of that quality which
Pausanias justly admired. Fronting the auditorium was the stage
building, of which little but foundations remains anywhere. So far
as can be ascertained, this stage building had but small
architectural pretensions until the post classical period (i.e.,
after Alexander) But there was opportunity for elegance as well as
convenience in the form given to the stone or marble seats with
which the auditorium was provided.
CHAPTER IV.
GREEK SCULPTURE.--GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS.
In the Mycenaean period, as we have seen, the art of sculpture had
little existence, except for the making of small images and the
decoration of small objects. We have now to take up the story of
the rise of this art to an independent and commanding position, of
its perfection and its subsequent decline. The beginner must not
expect to find this story told with as much fulness and certainty
as is possible in dealing with the art of the Renaissance or any
more modern period. The impossibility of equal fulness and
certainty here will become apparent when we consider what our
materials for constructing a history of Greek sculpture are.
First, we have a quantity of notices, more or less relevant, in
ancient Greek and Roman authors, chiefly of the time of the Roman
Empire. These notices are of the most miscellaneous description.
They come from writers of the most unlike tastes and the most
unequal degrees of trustworthiness. They are generally very vague,
leaving most that we want to know unsaid. And they have such a
haphazard character that, when taken all together, they do not
begin to cover the field. Nothing like all the works of the
greater sculptors, let alone the lesser ones, are so much as
mentioned by name in extant ancient literature.
Secondly, we have several hundreds of original inscriptions
belonging to Greek works of sculpture and containing the names of
the artists who made them. It was a common practice, in the case
especially of independent statues in the round, for the sculptor
to attach his signature, generally to the pedestal. Unfortunately,
while great numbers of these inscribed pedestals have been
preserved for us, it is very rarely that we have the statues which
once belonged on them. Moreover, the artists' names which we meet
on the pedestals are in a large proportion of cases names not even
mentioned by our literary sources. In fact, there is only one
indisputable case where we possess both a statue and the pedestal
belonging to it, the latter inscribed with the name of an artist
known to us from literary tradition. (See pages 212-3.)
Thirdly, we have the actual remains of Greek sculpture, a
constantly accumulating store, yet only an insignificant remnant
of what once existed. These works have suffered sad disfigurement.
Not one life-sized figure has reached us absolutely intact; but
few have escaped serious mutilation. Most of those found before
the beginning of this century, and some of those found since, have
been subjected to a process known as "restoration." Missing parts
have been supplied, often in the most arbitrary and tasteless
manner, and injured surfaces, e. g., of faces, have been polished,
with irreparable damage as the result.
Again, it is important to recognize that the creations of Greek
sculpture which have been preserved to us are partly original
Greek works, partly copies executed in Roman times from Greek
originals. Originals, and especially important originals, are
scarce. The statues of gold and ivory have left not a vestige
behind. Those of bronze, once numbered by thousands, went long
ago, with few exceptions, into the melting-pot. Even sculptures in
marble, though the material was less valuable, have been thrown
into the lime-kiln or used as building stone or wantonly mutilated
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