HISTORICAL EVIDENCE.
The idea of the Greeks having painted their statues is so repugnant to all our modern prejudgments, that the mind is slow in familiarising itself with the fact, even when indisputable evidence is brought forward. The Greeks were artists of such exquisite taste, and of principles so severe, that to accuse them of havingpainted statues, is to accuse them of committing what in our day is regarded as pure “barbarism.” The Greeks did not aim at reality, but at ideality; and the painting of statues is thought to be only an attempt to imitate reality.
Nevertheless, however startling, the fact remains: the Greeksdidpaint their statues. Living eyes have seen the paint. Living testimony supports the testimony of ancient writers, and all that will be necessary in these pages is to furnish some of the principal points of evidence.
In the first place, the reader must get out of all sculpture galleries, erase from his mind all preconceptions derived from antique remains and modern practices. Having done so, let him reflect on the historical development of sculpture, and he will see this idea of painted figures falling in its true place.
Sculpture of course began in Greece, as elsewhere, with idols. It is the custom of all barbarous nations to colour their idols. The Egyptians, as we know beyond all doubt, not only coloured, but dressed theirs. So did the Greeks. It may be a question, whether the Greeks borrowed their art from the Egyptians, improving it, as they did everything else. Let scholars decide that question. This, however, is certain, that in either case the Egyptian practice would obtain—
1st. If the Greeks borrowed from the Egyptians, they would borrow the painting and dressing.
2nd. If they did not borrow—if their art was indigenous—then it would come under the universal law of barbarian art; and painting would, at any rate in the earlier epochs, have beenemployed. (We know that both painting and dressing were employed in all epochs.)
This being so, and the custom being universal, unless the change from painted to unpainted statues had been very gradual, insensibly so, the man who first produced a marble statue without any addition would have been celebrated as an innovator. No such celebrity is known.
Ancient literature abounds with references and allusions to the practices of painting and dressing statues. Space prevents their being copiously cited here. Moreover, many of them are too vague fordirectevidence. Of those which areunequivocala few will be given.
Dressing Statues.—Pausanias describes a nympheum, where the women assembled to worship, containing figures of Bacchus, Ceres, and Proserpine, the heads of which alone were visible, the rest of the body being hidden by draperies. And this explains a passage in Tertullian (“De Jejun.,” 16), where he compares the goddesses to rich ladies having their attendants specially devoted to dress them—suas habebant ornatrices. For it must be borne in mind that the Greek idols, like the saints in Catholic cathedrals, were kept dressed and ornamented with religious care. Hence Homer frequently alludes to the offerings of garments made to propitiate a goddess; thus, to cite but one, Hector tells Hecuba to choose the most splendidpeplosto offer to Minerva for her aid and favour. Dionysius, the Tyrant of Syracuse, according to a well known anecdote, stripped the Jupiter of his golden cloak, mockingly declaring that it was too heavy for summer, and too cold for winter.
“The golden cloak of the Sicilian Jupiter seems scarcely to illustrate the subject of dressing statues—as it was probably not drapery, not cloth enriched with gold—but solid, like the golden Ægis of the Minerva of Phidias, which could be removed and replaced.”—W. W. Lloyd.
Thesedressedstatues were for the most partdolls, however large. The reader must remember that the dolls of his nursery are the lineal descendants of ancient idols. Each house had its lares or household gods; each house had its dressed idols. Statues, in our sense of the word, were, it may be supposed, not dressed; but that they were painted and ornamented there seems to be ample evidence.
Coloured Statues.—If we had no other evidence than is afforded in the greatvarietyof materials employed—ivory, gold, ebony, silver, brass, bronze, amber, lead, iron, cedar, pear-tree, &c.,it would suffice to indicate that the prejudice about “purity of marble”isa prejudice. The critic may declare that a severe taste repudiates all colour, all mingling of materials; but the Greek sculptors addressed the senses and tastes of the Greek nation, and did so with a view toreligiouseffect, just as in Catholic cathedrals painted windows, pictures, and jewelled madonnas appeal to the senses of the populace.
The Greeks made statues of ivory and gold combined. They also combined various metals with a view of producing the effect ofcolour. One example will suffice here. Pliny tells us (lib. xxxiv. cap. 14) that the sculptor of the statue of Athamas, wishing to represent the blush of shame succeeding his murder of his son, made the head of a metal composed of copper and iron, the dissolution of the ferruginous material giving the surface a red glow—ut rubigine ejus per nitorem æris relucente, exprimeretur verecundiæ rubor. Twenty analogous examples of various metals employed for colouring purposes might be cited. Quatremère de Quincey, in his great work, “Le Jupiter Olympien,” has collected many.
The reader may, however, admit that statues were made of various materials, and that the bronze statues—which were incomparably more numerous than the marble, may have been tinted, but still feel disinclined to believe that themarblestatues were ever painted. A fewdecisivepassages shall be adduced.
Let it be remembered that Socrates was the son of a sculptor, and that Plato lived in Athens, acquainted with the great sculptors and their works; then read this passage, wherein Socrates employs, by way of simile, the practice of painting statues: “Just as if, when painting statues, a person should blame us for not placing the most beautiful colours on the most beautiful parts of the figure—inasmuch as the eyes, the most beautiful parts, were not painted purple, but black—we should answer him by saying, Clever fellow, do not suppose we are to paint eyes so beautifully that they should not appear to be eyes.” (Plato, “De Repub.”lib.iv., near the beginning.)
This passage would long ago have settled the question, had not the moderns been pre-occupied with the belief that the Greeks didnotpaint their statues. They, therefore, read the passage in another sense; many translators read “pictures” for “statues.” But the Greek wordανδριαςsignifies “statue,” and isneverused to signify “picture.” It means statue, and a statuary is called the maker of such statues,ανδριαντοποιος. (Mr. Davis, in Bohn’sEnglish edition of Plato, avoids the difficulty by translating it “human figures.”)
“This passage is decisive as far as it goes, but it does not touch the question of colouring the flesh. It proves that as late as Plato’s time it was usual to apply colour to the eyes of statues; and assuming, what is not stated, that marble statues are in question, we are brought to the same point as by the Æginetan marbles, of which the eyes, lips, portions of the armour and draperies were found coloured. I forget whether the hair was found to be coloured, but the absence of traces of colour on the flesh, while they were abundant elsewhere, indicates that if coloured at all it must have been by a different and more perishable process—by a tint, or stain, or varnish. The Æginetan statues being archaic, do not give an absolute rule for those of Phidias. The archaic Athenian bas-relief of a warrior in excellent preservation, shows vivid colours on drapery and ornaments of armour, and the eye-balls were also coloured; but again, there is no trace of colour on the flesh.”—W. W. Lloyd.
Here is a passage which not only establishes the sense of the one in Plato, but while unequivocally declaring that the ancients painted their statues gives the reason why the paint is so seldom discoverable in the antique remains. It is from Plutarch (“Quæst. Roman.” xcviii., at the end): “It is necessary to be very careful of statues, otherwise thevermilion with which the ancient statues were coloured will quickly disappear.”
“This passage refers to archaic sacred figures, and at Rome (not in Greece), where after providing for the sacred geese and ganders, the first duty of certain officials on taking office was to furbish theagalma, or statue, which was necessary on ‘account of the quick fading of the vermilion with which they used to tinge the archaic statues.’ This is an accurate translation and a literal—and implies a difference between the archaic and the more modern in respect of colour, though not necessarily excluding all colour from the latter.”—W. W. Lloyd.
Had this passage been generally known the dispute could never have maintained itself. There is nothing equivocal in the use of the wordμιλτινον, which means “vermilion;” nothing which admits of doubt in the phraseῳ τα παλαια των αγαλματων εχρωζον. And there are abundant notices extant which illustrate it.One will suffice. The celebrated marble statue of a Bacchante by Scopas is described as holding, in lieu of the Thyrsus, a dead roebuck which is cut open, and the marble represents living flesh. People have tried to explain this by saying that Scopas discovered coloured veins in the marble, which he used to indicate living flesh. The explanation is absurd. In the first place veins do not so run in marble as to represent flesh; in the second, unless statueswereusually coloured, such veins, if they existed, would be regarded as terrible blemishes, and the very thing the Greeks are supposed to have avoided—viz., colour as representing reality—would have been shown.
But colourwasused, as we know, and Pausanias (“Arcad.” lib. viii., cap. 39) describes a statue of Bacchus as having all those portions not hidden by draperies, painted vermilion, the body being of gilded wood. He also distinctly says that the statues made of gypsum were painted, describing a statue of Bacchusγυψου πεποιημενον, which was—the language is explicit—“ornamentedwith paint”επικεκοσμημενον γραφη.
“This statue was apparently ithyphallic, and probably archaic. Not drapery, but ivy and laurel, concealed the lower part of it. The colour of the exposed part was not local, but applied to the whole of it.”—W. W. Lloyd.
Virgil, in an epigram, not only offers Venus amarblestatue of Amor, the wings of which shall be many-coloured and the quiver painted, but he intimates that this shall be so because it is customary—
Marmoreusque tibi, Dea,versicoloribus alisIn morempictâ stabit Amor pharetrâ.
Marmoreusque tibi, Dea,versicoloribus alisIn morempictâ stabit Amor pharetrâ.
Marmoreusque tibi, Dea,versicoloribus alisIn morempictâ stabit Amor pharetrâ.
Marmoreusque tibi, Dea,versicoloribus alis
In morempictâ stabit Amor pharetrâ.
And in the seventh Eclogue, Virgil, speaking of the statue of Diana, describes it as of marble withscarletsandals bound round the leg as high as the calf.
Si proprium hoc fuerit, levi de marmore totaPuniceo stabis suras evincta cothurno.
Si proprium hoc fuerit, levi de marmore totaPuniceo stabis suras evincta cothurno.
Si proprium hoc fuerit, levi de marmore totaPuniceo stabis suras evincta cothurno.
Si proprium hoc fuerit, levi de marmore tota
Puniceo stabis suras evincta cothurno.
And there is a passage in Pliny which is decisive, as soon as we understand the allusion. Speaking of Nicias (lib. xxxv. cap. 11), he says, that Praxiteles, when asked which of his marble works best satisfied him, replied, “Those which Nicias has had under his hands.” “So much,” adds Pliny, “did he prize the finishing of Nicias”—tantum circumlitioni ejus tribuebat.
The meaning of this passage hangs on the wordcircumlitio.Winckelmann follows the mass of commentators in understanding this as referring to some mode ofpolishingthe statues; but Quatremère de Quincey, in his magnificent work “Le Jupiter Olympien,” satisfactorily shows this to be untenable, not only because no sculptor could think of preferring such of his statues as had been better polished, but also because Nicias being apainter, not a sculptor, his services must have been those of a painter.
What were they? Nicias was anencaustic painter, and hence it seems clear that hiscircumlitio—his mode of finishing the statues, so highly prized by Praxiteles—must have been the application of encaustic painting to those parts which the sculptor wished to have ornamented. For it is quite idle to suppose a sculptor like Praxiteles would allow another sculptor tofinishhis works. The rough work may be done by other hands, but the finishing is always left to the artist. The statue completed, there still remained the painter’s art to be employed, and for that Nicias was renowned.
Even Winckelmann (“Geschichte der Kunst,” buch I. kap. 2), after noting how the ancients were accustomed to dress their statues, adds, “This gave rise to the painting of those parts of the marble statues which represented the clothes, as may be seen in the Diana found at Herculanæum in 1760. The hair is blonde; the draperies white, with a triple border, one of gold, the other of purple, with festoons of flowers, the third plain purple.”
There are still traces visible of gilding in the hair of statues. Even the Venus de’ Medici has such. And the bored ears speak plainly of earrings.
While the testimony of antiquity is thus explicit, there is the still more convincing testimony of living eyes, which have seen this painting on statues. The celebrated Swedish traveller, Akerblad, says, “I am convinced that the practice of colouring marble statues and buildings was much more frequent than is supposed. The second time I visited Athens, I had opportunity of narrowly inspecting the frieze of the Temple of Theseus, and I came away convinced it had been painted.” Quatremère de Quincey mentions statues he has seen, and refers especially to the Apollo in the Louvre, made of Pentelic marble, almost all over the naked surfaces of which a trace of red was faintly perceptible. The same with a Diana at Versailles; but he adds, “these traces grow daily fainter.” The eyes and mouth of the colossal Pallas de Velletri still retain the violet colour.
Such are a few of the evidences. On examining them, we findthem not only unequivocal in themselves, but complementary of each other. Living testimony, supposing it to be accepted without demur, would not suffice to settle the question of what was the ancient practice; for it might not unreasonably be argued that these traces of painting on the statues are only evidences of a degenerate taste—like our whitewashing of cathedrals—and no evidences of Greek artists having perpetrated such offences against taste. But when it is seen, by the testimony of ancient writers, such as Plato, Pliny, Plutarch, and Virgil, that the Greek artistsdidcolour their statues, the fact of the statues being discovered with traces of colour is explained, while on the other hand this fact helps to clear away all trace of doubt which might linger in a supposed equivocalness in the passages from ancient writers.
G. H. LEWES.
G. H. LEWES.
G. H. LEWES.
G. H. LEWES.
“As regards archaic sculpture in Greece, we may be considered to have decisive proof from Pausanias and others, that the ancient sacred figures, that were rather venerated as idols than admired for art, were often entirely coloured—flesh and drapery with vermilion, perhaps conventionally and rudely enough, as we find on the archaic vases, the flesh of women painted white, and that of men black.
The marble statues of Ægina, and others, that are works of truly fine art, offer a second form of the application of colour. Here the eyes, lips, draperies, ornaments, and details of arms, have their true local colour, but the monuments themselves only give us the negative evidence with respect to the flesh, that if coloured at all, it must have been less solidly. Unless it were tinged or stained, it is difficult to understand how the effect of the coloured part could have been otherwise than very disagreeable—spotty, patchy, crude, ghastly to the last degree; but the experiment might be tried.
On the other hand, it is most certain that in the chryselephantine statues, the Minerva of the Parthenon, the Jupiter Olympian, the Juno of Argos, by Phidias, and by Polycletus, the greatest variety of colour was applied throughout—or rather variety of colour was given by the different materials of which these figures were composed, ivory, gold, various coloured woods, stones and gems. But painting or staining in the proper sense of the words, was certainly applied to some portions; as, for instance, Pausanias states that the robe of Jupiter had lilies painted on it.
The application of colour to the details of the architecture at least, and to portions of the architectonic sculpture, would be absolutely required, to harmonise them with the chief object in the temple itself.
Lastly, as to the flesh of marble statues of the best age, no rule can be deduced for this from any practice that obtained in primitive times, or from chryselephantine works, which seem to have been in designed contrast in the whole of their treatment.
The argument for colour on marble flesh of the best age, from existing remains, so far as I am aware, is equal to zero. But the passage respecting Nicias and Polycletus, is of very great force. There is no escape from its application to marble statues, nor from the great skill that there was occasion and scope for in thecircumlitio. Whatever this tinging or colouring may have been, we may be sure that it was so employed as to heighten the purest effects. The edge and sharpness, and smoothness and brilliancy, of the material, cannot have been destroyed by it; rather sobered it may be, but still enhanced. Doubtless it aided the peculiar glories of sculpture, the display of forms, by rendering them more visible—idealised rather than imitated nature, and treated every part under the law of regard to the supreme intention and sentiment of the whole. The same remarks (such as they are) apply to bas-reliefs, which, however, have difficulties of their own.
Vitruvius (vii. 9), after describing the preparation ofminiumor vermilion, goes on to speak of its liability to change colour from the action of direct sunlight, and gives instructions for protecting it; he does not mention the medium employed with the colour, but as it is insoluble, we must assume the use of size, as in other instances, or gum, &c. The wall he is thinking of is apparently stucco.
‘When the wall is painted with vermilion and dry, lay on with a brush (of bristles, a hard or rough brush), Punic wax melted over the fire, and a little tempered with oil; then by means of hot coals in an iron vessel, warm the wall well and make the wax run, and equalize itself; afterwards rub it with a wax candle and clean cloths, as nude marble figures are treated.’
Pliny (xxi. 14) gives the preparation of Punic wax by a process of which the chemical result, according to Dr. Turner, was a soap of twenty parts wax to one of soda. He also (xxxiii. 7)describes the same process as Vitruvius above, apparently copying him or a common authority. The wax, he says, is applied hot, heated with coals (admotisgallæcarbonibus, whatever they may be), and then rubbed with wax candles, and afterwards with clean linen cloths, as marbles also become bright (or shiny), (sicut et marmora nitescunt).
Now how much of the treatment thus expressed applies to sculpture? Putting the case most strongly, it might be said,—the whole, and that nothing less than the whole, will accord with thecircumlitioof statues mentioned elsewhere, and by applying the whole we might connect these notices with those of Plutarch and Pausanias of the employment of vermilion in colouring statues, though these latter go for very little as applicable to the best works of the best time. The construction of the words of both authors imply in strictness that the wax and linen rubbings of statues were applied to the wax previously laid on and heated.
The treatment of statues is referred by Vitruvius specially to the nude; it seems, therefore, to have had connection with a design to assist or heighten the effect of the sculptured nude flesh, as distinguished from drapery, &c. This would be natural enough, though no colours were employed, or not for every part, but if they were we must suppose that Vitruvius has vermilion in his mind leading him to limit his observation. Pliny’s expression shows that even assuming colour there is no opaqueness in question.
If a verdict were to be given on this evidence as it stands, I am much disposed to think that it must be in favour of a tinge of vermilion, protected by a brilliant varnish, having been applied to the nude portions of (? some) marble statues in such a manner that both colour and varnish assisted the fine surface and brilliant effect of the lucent marble. So much for this part of the evidence and its bearing on a final decision.”—W. W. Lloyd.