CHAPTER IV. BEAUTY
I
How is beauty to be judged? — upon that we have to deliberate.
A man by skill may bring it into every single thing, for in some things we recognise that as beautiful which elsewhere would lack beauty.
Good and better in respect of beauty are not easy to discern; for it would be quite possible to make two different figures, one stout, the other thin, which should differ one from the other in every proportion, and yet we scarce might be able to judge which of the two excelled in beauty. What beauty is I know not, though it dependeth upon many things.
I shall here apply to what is to be called beautiful the same touchstone as that by which we decide what is right. For as what all the world prizeth as right we hold to be right, so what all the world esteemeth beautiful that we will also hold for beautiful, and ourselves strive to produce the like.
There are many causes and varieties of beauty; he that can prove them is so much the more to be trusted.
The accord of one thing with another is beautiful, therefore want of harmony is not beautiful. A real harmony linketh together things unlike.
Use is a part of beauty, whatever therefore is useless unto men is without beauty.
The more imperfection is excluded so much the more doth beauty abide in the work.
Guard thyself from superfluity.
But beauty is so put together in men and so uncertain is our judgment about it, that we may perhaps find two men both beautiful and fair to look upon, and yet neither resembleth the other, in measure or kind, in any single point or part; and so blind is our perception that we shall not understand whether of the two is the more beautiful, and if we give an opinion on the matter it shall lack certainty.
Negro faces are seldom beautiful because of their very flat noses and thick lips; moreover, their shinbone is too prominent, and the knee and foot too long, not so good to look upon as those of the whites; and so also is it with their hand. Howbeit, I have seen some amongst them whose whole bodies have been so well-built and handsome that I never beheld finer figures, nor can I conceive how they might be bettered, so excellent were their arms and all their limbs.
Seeing that man is the worthiest of all creatures, it follows that, in all pictures, the human figure is most frequently employed as a centre of interest. Every animal in the world regards nothing but his own kind, and the same nature is also in men, as every man may perceive in himself.
[Illustration: Charcoal-drawing heightened with white on a green prepared ground, in the Berlin Print Room Face ]
Further, in order that he may arrive at a good canon whereby to bring somewhat of beauty into our work, there-unto it were best for thee, it bethinks me, to form thy canon from many living men. Howbeit seek only such men as are held beautiful, and from such draw with all diligence. For one who hath understanding may, from men of many different kinds, gather something good together through all the limbs of the body. But seldom is a man found who hath all his limbs good, for every man lacks something.
No single man can be taken as a model of a perfect figure, for no man liveth on earth who uniteth in himself all manner of beauties.... There liveth also no man upon earth who could give a final judgment upon what the perfect figure of a man is; God only knoweth that.
And although we cannot speak of the greatest beauty of a living creature, yet we find in the visible creation a beauty so far surpassing our understanding that no one of us can fully bring it into his work.
If we were to ask how we are to make a beautiful figure, some would give answer: According to human judgment (i.e., common taste). Others would not agree thereto, neither should I without a good reason. Who will give us certainty in this matter?
II
I have already given what I believe to be the best answer to these questions as to what beauty is and how it is to be judged. Beauty is beauty as good is good (see p, 8), or yellow, yellow; indeed, to the second question, Matthew Arnold has given the only possible answer — the relative value of beauties is “as the judicious would determine,” and the judicious are, in matters of art “finely touched and gifted men.” This criterion obviously cannot be easily or hastily applied, nor could one ever be quite sure that in any given case it had been applied to any given effect. But for practical needs we see that it suffices to cast a slur on facile popularity, and vindicate over and over again those who had been despised and rejected. What the true artist desires to bring into his pictures is the power to move finely-touched and gifted men. Not only are such by very much the minority, but the more part of them being, by their capacity to be moved and touched, easily wounded, have developed a natural armour of reserve, of moroseness, of prejudice, of combativeness, of pedantry, which makes them as difficult to address as wombats, or bears, or tortoises, or porcupines, or polecats, or elephants. It is interesting to witness how Dürer’s self-contradictions show him to be aware of the great complexity of these difficulties, as also to see how very near he comes to the true answer. At one time he tells us:
“When men demand a work of a master, he is to be praised in so far as he succeeds in satisfying their likings ...”
At another he tells us:
“The art of painting cannot be truly judged save by such as are themselves good painters; from others verily is it hidden even as a strange tongue.”
Every “finely touched and gifted man” is not an artist; but every true artist must, in some measure, be a finely touched and gifted man. There is no necessity to limit the public addressed to those who themselves produce: yet those who “can prove what they say with their hand” bring credentials superior to those offered by any others, — although even their judgment is not sure, as they may well represent a minority of the true court of appeal which can never be brought together.
No doubt there is a judgment and a scale of values accepted as final by each generation that gives any considerable attention to these questions. Æsthetic appear to be exactly similar to religious convictions. Those who are subject to them probably pass through many successively, even though they all their lives hold to a certain fashion which enables them to assert some obvious unity, like those who, in religion, belong always to one sect. Yet if they were in a position to analyse their emotions and leanings, no doubt very fundamental contradictions would be discovered to disconcert them. Conviction and enthusiasm in the arts and religion would seem to be the frame of mind natural to those who assimilate, and are rendered productive by what they study and admire. Convictions may never be wholly justifiable in theory, but in practice when results are considered, it would seem that no other frame of mind should escape censure.
CHAPTER V. NATURE
I
We regard a form and figure out of nature with more pleasure than another, though the thing in itself is not necessarily altogether better or worse.
Life in nature showeth forth the truth of these things (the words of difference — i.e., the character of bodily habit to which they refer), wherefore regard it well, order thyself thereby and depart not from nature in thine opinions, neither imagine of thyself to invent aught better, else shalt thou be led astray, for art standeth firmly fixed in nature, and whoso can rend her forth thence he only possesseth her. If thou acquirest her, she will remove many faults for thee from thy work.
Neither must the figure be made youthful before and old behind, or contrariwise; for that unto which nature is opposed is bad. Hence it followeth that each figure should be of one kind alone throughout, either young or old, or middle-aged, or lean or fat, or soft or hard.
The more closely thy work abideth by life in its form, so much the better will it appear; and this is true. Wherefore never more imagine that thou either canst or shalt make anything better than God hath given power to His creatures to do. For thy power is weakness compared to God’s creating hand. (See continuation of passage, .)
Compare also passages quoted (p-291).
II
In these and other passages Dür
er speaks about “nature,” and enjoins on the artist respect for and conformity to “nature” in a manner which reminds us of that still current in dictums about art. Indeed, it seems probable that Dürer’s use of this term was almost as confused as that of a modern art-critic. There are two senses in which the word nature is employed, the confusion of which is ten times more confounded than any of the others, and deserves, indeed, utter damnation, so prolific of evil is it. We call the objects of sensory perception “nature” — whatever is seen, heard, felt, smelt or tasted is a part of nature. And yet we constantly speak of seeing, hearing, touching, smelling, and tasting monstrous and unnatural things. And a monstrous and unnatural thing is not merely one which is rare, but even more decidedly one of which we disapprove. So that the second use of the term conveys some sense of exceptionality, but far more of lack of conformity to human desires and expectations. Now, many things which do not exist are perfectly natural in this second sense: fairy-lands, heavens, &c. We perfectly understand what is meant by a natural and an unnatural imagination, we perceive readily all kind of degrees between the monstrous and the natural in pure fiction. Now, this second use of the term nature is the only one which is of any vital importance to our judgments upon works of art; yet current judgments are more often than not based wholly on the first sense, which means merely all objects perceived by the senses; and this, draped in the authority and phrases belonging to judgments based on the second and really pertinent sense.
Whole schools of painting and criticism have arisen and flourish whose only reason for existence is the extreme facility with which this confusion is made in European languages. It sounds so plausible that some have censured Michael Angelo for bad drawing because men are not from 9 to 15 or 16 heads high, and have not muscles so developed as the gods and Titans of his creation. And others have objected to the angels, the anatomical ambiguity of their wing articulations. To say that a sketch or picture is out of tone or drawing damns, in many circles to-day; in spite of the fact that the most famous masterpieces, if judged by the same standard, would be equally offensive. This absurdity, even where its grosser developments are avoided, breeds abundant contradictions and confusion in the mouths of those who plume themselves on culture and discernment. I hope not to have been too saucy, therefore, in pointing out this pitfall to my readers in regard to these sentences which I thought it worth while to quote from Dürer, merely because if I did not do so I foresaw that they would be quoted against me.
CHAPTER VI. THE CHOICE OF AN ARTIST
I
In the great earnestness with which the difficulties that beset art and the artist impressed him, Dürer intended to write a Vade Mecum for those who should come after him. He has left among his MS. papers many plans, rough drafts, and notes for some such work, the form of which no doubt changed from time to time. The one which gives us the most comprehensive idea of his intentions is perhaps the following.
II
Ihs. Maria
By the grace and help of God I have here set down all that I have learnt in practice, which is likely to be of use in painting, for the service of all students who would gladly learn. That, perchance, by my help they may advance still further in the higher understanding of such art, as he who seeketh may well do, if he is inclined thereto; for my reason sufficeth not to lay the foundations of this great, far-reaching, infinite art of true painting.
Item. — In order that thou mayest thoroughly and rightly comprehend what is, or is called, an “artistic painter,” I will inform thee and recount to thee. If the world often goeth without an “artistic painter,” whilst for two or three hundred years none such appeareth, it is because those who might have become such devote not themselves to art. Observe then the three essential qualities following, which belong to the true artist in painting. These are the three main points in the whole book.
I. The First Division of the book is the Prologue, and it compriseth three parts (A, B, and C).
o A. The first part of the Prologue telleth us how the lad should be taught, and how attention should be paid to the tendency of his temperament. It falleth into six parts:
1. That note should be taken of the birth of the child, in what Sign it occurreth; with some explanations. (Pray God for a lucky hour!)
2. That his form and stature should be considered; with some explanations.
3. How he ought to be nurtured in learning from the first; with some explanations.
4. That the child should be observed, whether he learneth best when kindly praised or when chidden; with explanations.
5. That the child be kept eager to learn and be not vexed.
6. If the child worketh too hard, so that he might fall under the hand of melancholy, that he be enticed therefrom by merry music to the pleasuring of his blood.
o B. The second part of the Preface showeth how the lad should be brought up in the fear of God and in reverence, that so he may attain grace, whereby he may be much strengthened in intelligent art. It falleth into six parts:
1. That the lad be brought up in the fear of God and be taught to pray to God for the grace of quick perception (ubtilitet) and to honour God.
2. That he be kept moderate in eating and drinking, and also in sleeping.
3. That he dwell in a pleasant house, so that he be distracted by no manner of hindrance.
4. That he be kept from women and live not loosely with them; that he not so much as see or touch one; and that he guard himself from all impurity. Nothing weakens the understanding more than impurity.
5. That he know how to read and write well, and be also instructed in Latin, so far as to understand certain writings.
6. That such an one have sufficient means to devote himself without anxiety (to his art), and that his health be attended to with medicines when needful.
o C. The third part of the Prologue teacheth us of the great usefulness, joy, and delight which spring from painting. It falleth into six parts:
1. It is a useful art when it is of godly sort, and is employed for holy edification.
2. It is useful, and much evil is thereby avoided, if a man devote himself thereto who else had wasted his time.
3. It is useful when no one thinks so, for a man will have great joy if he occupy himself with that which is so rich in joys.
4. It is useful because a man gaineth great and lasting memory thereby if he applieth it aright.
5. It is useful because God is thereby honoured when it is seen that He hath bestowed such genius upon one of His creatures in whom is such art. All men will be gracious unto thee by reason of thine art.
6. The sixth use is that if thou art poor thou mayest by such art come unto great wealth and riches.
II. The Second Division of the book treateth of Painting itself; it also is threefold.
o A. The first part is of the freedom of painting; in six ways.
o B. The second part is of the proportions of men and buildings, and what is needful for painting; in six ways.
1. Of the proportions of men.
2. Of the proportions of horses.
3. Of the proportions of buildings.
4. Of perspective.
5. Of light and shade.
6. Of colours, how they are to be made to resemble nature.
o C. The third part is of all that a man conceives as subject for painting.
III. The Third Division of the book is the Conclusion; it also hath three parts.
o A. The first part shows in what place such an artist should dwell to practise his art; in six ways.
o B. The second part shows how such a wonderful artist should charge highly for his art, and that no money is too much for it, seeing that it is divine and true; in six ways.
The third part speaks of praise and thanksgiving which he should render unto God for His grace, and which others should render on his behalf; in six ways.
III
It is in the variety and completeness of his intentions that we perceive Dürer’s kinship with the
Renascence; he comprehends the whole of life in his idea of art training.
In his persuasion of the fundamental necessity of morality he is akin to the best of the Reformation. It is in the union of these two perceptions that his resemblance to Michael Angelo lies. There is a rigour, an austerity which emanates from their work, such as is not found in the work of Titian or Rembrandt or Leonardo or Rubens or any other mighty artist of ripe epochs. Yet we find both of them illustrating the licentious legends of antiquity, turning from the Virgin to Amymone and Leda, from Christ to Apollo and Hercules. By their action and example neither joins either the Reformation or the Renascence in so far as these movements may be considered antagonistic; nor did they find it inconsistent to acknowledge their debt to Greece and Rome, even while accepting the gift of Jesus’ example as freely as it was offered.
Not only does Dürer insist on the necessity of a certain consonancy between the surrounding influences and the artist’s capacity, which should be both called forth and relieved by the interchange of rivalry with instruction, of seclusion with music or society, but the process which Jesus made the central one of his religion is put forward as essential; he must form himself on a precedent example. I have already quoted from Reynolds at length on this point.
I will merely add here some notes from another MS. fragment of Dürer’s bearing on the same points.
He that would be a painter must have a natural turn thereto.
Love and delight therein are better teachers of the Art of Painting than compulsion is.
If a man is to become a really great painter he must be educated thereto from his very earliest years. He must copy much of the work of good artists until he attain a free hand.
Masters of Art - Albrecht Dürer Page 52
