PROPORTION, CHARACTER, EXPRESSION, ETC.
Winckelmann says: “I cannot imagine beauty without the PROPORTION which is always its foundation.—The drawing of the naked figure is founded upon the idea and the knowledge of beauty; and this idea consists partly in measures and relations, and partly in forms, the beauty of which was, as Cicero observes, the object of the first Grecian artists: the latter determine the figure; the former fix the proportions.”
The great variety of proportions presented by the human body causes much difficulty in determining with precision what are the best. The difficulty becomes quite insurmountable if we attempt to assign precise dimensions to the details of configuration or to minute parts.
Many circumstances are opposed to the exactness of these measures. Even in the same person, one part is rarely in all respects similar to the corresponding part; we are taller in the morning than in the evening; and the proportions change at different periods of life. In different individuals, the differences are still more evident. Moreover, habits, professions, trades, all unite to oppose regularity in the proportions.
It has farther been observed that, in the conformation of woman, both as regards the whole and as regards the various parts, nature still more rarely approaches determinate proportions than in man.
It is remarked by Hogarth, whose views I now abridge, that in society we every day hear women pronounce perfectly correct opinions as to the proportions of the neck, the bosom, the hands, and the arms of other women, whom they have an interest in observing with severity. It is evident that, for such an examination, they ought to be capable of seizing, with great precision, the relation of length and thickness, and of following the slight sinuosities, the swellings, the depressions, almost insensible and continually varying, at the surface of the parts observed. If so, it is certainly in the power of a man of science, with as observing an eye, to go still farther, and conceive many other necessary circumstances concerning proportion.
But he says: “Though much of this matter may be easily understood by common observation, assisted by science, still I fear it will be difficult to raise a very clear idea of what constitutes or composes the utmost beauty of proportion.... We shall soon find that it is chiefly to be effected by means of the nice sensation we naturally have of what certain quantities or dimensions of parts are fittest to produce the utmost strength for moving or supporting great weights, and of what are most fit for the utmost light agility, as also for every degree, between these two extremes.”
After some illustrations of this, which naturally leave the method very vague, he adds: “I am apprehensive that this part of my scheme, for explaining exact proportion, may not be thought so sufficiently determinate as could be wished.” So that Hogarth’s method as to proportions, both general and particular, reduces itself to the employment of the eye and the nice sensation we have of quantities or dimensions.
But the Greek artists had not only done what Hogarth thus vaguely speaks of, but advanced much farther; and indeed all that has been done on this important subject belongs rather to the history of art than that of nature.
“It is not,” says Buffon, “by the comparison of the body of one man with that of another man, or by measures actually taken in a great number of subjects, that we can acquire this knowledge [that of proportion]: it is by the efforts which have been made exactly to copy and imitate nature; it is to the art of design that we owe all that we know in this respect. Feeling and taste have done all that mechanics could not do; the rule and the compass have been quitted in order to profit by the eye; all the forms, all the outlines, and all the parts of the human body, have been realized in marble; and we have known nature better by the representation than by nature itself. It is by great exercise of the art of design and by an exquisite sentiment, that great statuaries have succeeded in making us feel the just proportions of the works of nature. The Greeks have formed such admirable statues, that with one consent they are regarded as the most exact representation of the most perfect human body. These statues, which were only copies from man, are become originals, because these copies were not made from any individual, but from the whole human species well observed, so well indeed, that no man has been found whose figure is so well proportioned as these statues: it is then from these models that the measures of the human body have been taken.”
It is now necessary to lay before the reader the principles of the Greeks, as to the proportions of the human body. Much has been well done on this subject by Winckelmann, Bossi, and others; but, at the same time, from want of enlarged anatomical and physiological views, they have overlooked some fundamental considerations, and have failed to unravel the greatest difficulties which the subject presents. That the reader may be satisfied of the accuracy of my representations, I shall lay the statements of these writers before him in their own words, rendering them only as succinct as possible.[44]
Of the first epoch of art among the Etruscans and Greeks, Mengs says: “They preferred the most necessary things to those which were less so; and therefore they directed their attention first to the muscles, and next to proportion, these constituting the two parts the most useful and necessary of the human form; and this is, throughout, the character of their primitive taste. All this we observe in history, and in the divine and human figures which they have represented.
“In these figures,” he farther observes, “we find a proportion, impossible to be known and practised, without an art which furnishes sure rules. These rules could not be founded otherwise than in proportion, which was invented and practised by the Greeks.”
In this, Flaxman agrees, when he says: “It must not be supposed that those simple geometrical forms of body and limbs, in the divinities and heroes of antiquity, depended upon accidental choice, or blind and ignorant arbitration. They are, on the contrary, a consequence of the strict and extensive examination of nature, of rational inquiry into its most perfect organization and physical well-being, expressed in outward appearance.”
“That the Greeks,” says Bossi, “wrote much on this subject [their doctrine respecting symmetry] we have ample evidence in Pliny, Vitruvius himself, Philostratus the younger, and others.
“Polycletus did not confine himself to giving a commentary upon this fundamental point, but, in illustration of his treatise, according to Galen, made an admirable statue that confirmed the precepts laid down in the work; and ‘The Rule of Polycletus,’ the name given to this statue, became so famous for its beauty, that it passed into a proverb to express a perfect body, as we may find in Lucian.
“But of so many writings, which ought at least to equal the works that remain to us, and probably were superior, inasmuch as it is easier to lay down precepts than to put them in execution—of so many treatises, I say, not a fragment remains [except the few lines of Vitruvius], nor is there, now, any hope that a vestige will be found, unless something may remain for posterity among the papyri of Herculaneum.”
Now, to approach to the ancients in excellence is quite impossible, until some one shall explain the great principles on which they acted. Assuredly they are, in some of the most important respects, unknown at present. Servile imitation will never answer the purpose; and to learn as the ancients did, and reach perfection, perhaps, in as many ages, is not very rational, when we can avail ourselves of their practice to discover their principles. I will, in this chapter, endeavor to point out some of these principles in the practice of art, as I have already done in the general theory of beauty.
“It is probable,” says Winckelmann, “that the Grecian artists, in imitation of the Egyptians, had fixed, by well-determined rules, not only the largest, but even the very smallest proportions, and the measure of the length proper to every age and to every kind of contour; and probably all these rules were learned by young persons, from books that treated of symmetry.”
These rules, we know, were of three kinds—numerical, geometrical, and harmonic; and we shall see, in the sequel, that the loss of them has been much deplored. It is not a little curious, however, that the numerical and geometrical methods are, in some measure, actually practised even at the present day, and that the harmonic method (the loss of which has caused the greatest confusion) is easily deducible from anatomical and physiological principles, as I shall endeavor to show.
As to the NUMERICAL METHOD, it is evidently that of which Vitruvius has preserved some notions, and which is at present practised by artists.
“As it is the painter’s business,” says Bossi, “to imitate a great variety of human bodies, and as the difference of parts in beautiful bodies is generally slight, and becomes, as it were, imperceptible, in the most usual imitations less than life, Leonardo perceived it was necessary for the artist to use a general measure, for the purpose of preparing historical compositions quickly. He required that the figure to be employed should be carefully selected on the model of some natural body, the proportions of which were generally considered beautiful.—This measure, he required, should be employed solely for length, and not for width, which requires more evident variety.”
“It has been observed,” says Flaxman, “that Vitruvius, from the writings of the most eminent Greek painters and sculptors, informs us that they made their figures eight heads high, or ten faces, and he instances different parts of the figure measured according to that rule, which the great Michael Angelo adopted, as we see by a print from a drawing of his.”
Winckelmann, however, shows that the foot served the Greeks as a measure for all their larger dimensions, and that their sculptors regulated their proportions by it, in giving six times its length, as the model of the human figure. Vitruvius says, “Pes vero altitudinis corporis sextæ.”
“The foot,” says Winckelmann, “which among the ancients was used as the standard of measures of every magnitude (for a given measure of fluids was also called by this name), was very useful to sculptors in fixing the proportions of the body, and with reason; for the foot was a more determinate measure than that of the head or face, of which the moderns generally make use. The ancient artists regulated the size of their statues by the length of the foot, making them, according to Vitruvius, six times the length of the foot. Upon this principle, Pythagoras determined the height of Hercules, by the length of the feet with which he measured the Olympic stadium at Elis.
“This proportion of six to one between the foot and the body, is founded upon experience of nature, even in slender figures: it is found correct, not only in the Egyptian statues, but also in the Grecian; and it will be discovered in the greater part of the ancient figures where the feet are preserved.”
“We would not omit mentioning,” says Bossi, “the erroneous opinion of those, who esteem the feet of females beautiful in proportion to their smallness. The beauty of the feet consists in the handsomeness and neatness of their shape, not in their being short, or extremely small: were it otherwise, the feet of the Chinese and Japanese women would be beautiful, and those of the Venus de Medici frightful.”
Such, then, is evidently the numerical method of the ancients.—Of the GEOMETRICAL METHOD, we have many illustrations.
A man standing upright, with his arms extended, is, as Leonardo da Vinci has shown, enclosed in a square, the extreme extent of his arms being equal to his height. This is evidently the most general measure of the latter kind.
Of the latter kind, also, is Camper’s ellipsis for measuring the relative size of the shoulders in the male, and the pelvis in the female.
So also is the measure from the centre of one mammæ to that of the other, as equal to the distance from each to the pit over the breast-bone.
We now approach the chief difficulty, which evidently formed a stumbling-block even to Leonardo da Vinci—that HARMONIC METHOD which, strange as it may appear, will be found to afford rules that are at once perfectly precise, and yet infinitely variable. The apparent impossibility indeed of such a rule seems to have embarrassed every one. And the statement which Bossi makes in regard to Leonardo da Vinci, in this respect, is exceedingly interesting.
“He thought,” says Bossi, “but little of any general measure of the species; and that the true proportion admitted by him, and acknowledged to be of difficult investigation, is solely the proportion of an individual in regard to himself, which, according to true imitation, should be different in all the individuals of a species, as is the case in nature. Thus, says he, ‘all the parts of any animal should correspond with the whole; that which is short and thick, should have every member short and thick; that which is long and thin, every member long and thin; and that which is between the two, members of a proportionate size.’ From this and other precepts, it follows, that, when he speaks of proportion, he is to be understood as referring to the harmony of the parts of an individual, and not to the general rule of imitation in reference to dimensions.”—How clearly (notwithstanding the error as to all being short and thick) does this point to the harmonic method of proportion forthwith to be explained?
“It would seem he felt within himself that he did not reach the perfection of those wonderful ancients of whom he professed himself the admirer and disciple.
“It became, therefore, Leonardo’s particular care and study to approach as nearly as he could to the ancients in the true imitation of beautiful nature under the guidance of philosophy.
“But whether from want of great examples, or from not sufficiently penetrating, as he himself thought, into these artifices, or from comprehending them too late, he modestly laments that he did not possess the ancient art of proportions. He then protests that he has done the little he was able to do, and asks pardon of posterity that he has not done more. Such are the sentiments that Platino exhibits in the following epitaph:
“Leonardus Vincia (sic) Florentinus
Statuarius Pictor que nobilissimus
de se parce loquitur.
“Non sum Lysippus; nec Apelles; nec Policletus,
Nec Zeuxis; nec sum nobilis ære Myron.
Sum Florentinus Leonardus Vincia proles;
Mirator veterum discipulusque memor.
Defuit una mihi symmetria prisca: peregi
Quod potui: veniam da mihi posteritas.”
“It is evident that these sentiments are not to be attributed to the imagination of the poet.”
Bossi, having no glimpse of the great principles for which Leonardo sought in vain, says: “Since, then, this great man could not satisfy himself in the difficult task of dimensions, while on other points he seems to dread no censure, it should give us a strong idea of the difficulty of determining the laws of beautiful symmetry, and preserving it in works with that harmony which is felt, but cannot be explained, and which varies in every figure, according to the age, circumstances, and particular character of each.
“And when we recollect that, though Leonardo sought successfully in Vitruvius the proportions which Vitruvius himself seems to have drawn from the Greeks, he yet lamented that he did not possess the ancient symmetry, it is easily seen that he did not mean by this science, as already stated, a determinate general measure for man, but that harmony of parts which is suited to each individual, according to the respective circumstances of sex, age, character, and the like.” Again, how clearly does this point to the harmonic method of proportion to be presently explained!
“But,” Bossi proceeds, “how difficult it is to combine the beautiful and elegant, with easy and harmonic measures, may be judged from the vain attempts of many otherwise ingenious men, as I will here relate for the benefit of artists. The difficulty will be still more evident if we reflect how arduous a task it is to make the proportions that the Greeks denominated numerical, harmonic, and geometrical, agree together, and to apply them thus agreeing, to the formation of rules and measures of a visible object so various in its component parts as the human body.”—In despair, Bossi tries to show its absolute impossibility!
“In the second place, to penetrate completely the natural reason of the proportions of the human body, would require a knowledge of physics, which it is not in man’s power to obtain. The universal equilibrium of the numerous constituent parts of the human machine, every one of which eminently attains the end for which it was destined, without interrupting the course that every other part takes to its respective end, in which true proportion seems to consist, is more easily stated than understood. And even if an artist could arrive at such a knowledge of man as to be able, so to speak, to compose him, he would have done but little, because he would have made but one man. By the alteration of only one of the infinite parts that compose the human frame, the equilibrium and respective relation of the others are necessarily altered: in short, each separate individual would be the subject of a totally new study.
“Every human habit, of whatever nature it may be, has an influence over the human figure, and from the indefinable variety and incalculable mixture of such habits, there results an infinite variety of figures. Thus, it is evident that true general proportions cannot be laid down without violating nature, which it is the object of art to imitate.”—If, by “general proportions,” Bossi here means proportions applicable to all or to a great number, he completely loses sight of the object of the great man on whose opinions he comments; for he sought a rule for the harmony of parts in each distinct individual!
Again, Bossi abandons, as impossible, the finding of the harmonic rule, which was the great object of Leonardo.—“From what has been said, we may finally conclude that large proportions only can be established, and that placing too much confidence in measures, retards, rather than favors the arts.
“It was written of Raphael, and is seen, that he had as many proportions as he made figures. Michael Angelo did the same, and it was his saying, that he who had not the compasses in his eye, would never be able to supply the deficiency by artificial means. Vincentio Danti, who treasured the doctrine of Michael Angelo, asserts in his work, that the proportions do not fall under any measure of quantity. We have seen the infinite exceptions of Leonardo, respecting the measurement of man, and his own few works confirm it. I speak no more of inferior persons among the moderns; but turning to the ancients, I find that the proportions of every good statue are different.”—And this will be found conformable to the harmonic rule.
“And speaking generally of works in relievo, what canons can determine the largeness or smallness of some parts, so as to obtain a greater effect according to the circumstances of light, distance, material, visual point, &c.? Certainly none.”—This was not to be expected from the rule sought for.
“I shall deem that I have gained some recompense for the toil of wading through so many tedious works, if it shall induce any faith in the advice I now give, namely, that ‘every student of painting should himself measure many bodies of acknowledged beauty, compare them with the finest imitations in painting and sculpture, and from these measures make a canon for himself, dividing it in the manner best suited to his genius and memory. If this plan were more generally adopted, art and its productions would both be gainers.’”—It might do so, among as ingenious a people as the Greeks, in as many ages as the same method cost them to do it in! Leonardo da Vinci wanted to abridge the time, instead of beginning again!
Winckelmann as little understands this great man’s object, when, after saying, “As the ancients made ideal beauty their principal study, they determined its relations and proportions,” he adds “from which, however, they allowed themselves to deviate, when they had a good reason, and yielded themselves to the guidance of their genius.” Why, the whole purpose of the rule sought for was to regulate every possible deviation, as will now be seen.
The harmonic method of the Greeks—that measure which Leonardo calls the “true proportion”—“the proportion of an individual in regard to himself”—“which should be different in all the individuals of a species,” but in which “all the parts of any animal should correspond with the whole,” which constitutes “the harmony of the parts of an individual,” and which, as Bossi adds, “varies in every figure, according to the age, circumstances, and particular character of each”—in short, this method for the harmony of parts in each distinct individual—this method presenting rules, perfectly precise, and yet infinitely variable, has, in all its elements, been clearly laid before the reader (though not enunciated as a rule)—in the relative proportions of the locomotive, nutritive, and thinking systems, or, generally speaking, of the limbs, trunk, and head, and in the three species of beauty which are founded on them.
These, it is evident, present to the philosophic observer, the sole means of judging of beauty by harmonic rule, the great object of Leonardo da Vinci’s desires and regrets. They present the great features of the Greek method—if that method conformed to truth and nature, as it undoubtedly did. This will be rendered still clearer by a single example.
Thus, if any individual be characterized by the development of the nutritive system, this harmonic rule of nature demands not only that, as in the Saxon-English, the Dutch, and many Germans, the trunk shall be large, but consequently, that the other two portions, the head and the limbs, shall be relatively small; that the calvarium shall be small and round, and the intellectual powers restricted; that the head shall, nevertheless, be broad, because the vital cavities of the head are large, and because large jaws and muscles of mastication are necessary for the supply of such a system; that the neck shall be short, because the locomotive system is little developed; that it shall be thick, because the vessels which connect the head to the trunk are large and full, the former being only an appendage of the latter; that the lower limbs shall be both short and slender; that the calves of the legs shall be small and high;[45] that the feet shall be little turned out, &c., &c.
So also, if any individual be characterized by the development of the locomotive system, the harmonic rule demands, not only that the limbs shall be large, but, consequently, that the other two portions, the head and the trunk, shall be relatively small; that the calvarium shall be small and long, and the intellectual powers limited; that the head shall be long, because the jaws and their muscles are extended, &c., &c.
So likewise, if any individual be characterized by the development of the thinking system, the harmonic rule demands, not only that the head shall be large, but, consequently, that the other two portions, the trunk and limbs, shall be relatively small; that the head shall not only be large, but that its upper part, the calvarium, shall be largest, giving a pyramidal appearance to the head; that the trunk and limbs, however elegantly formed, shall be relatively feeble, the former often liable to disease, the latter to accident, as we have seen in the most illustrious examples, &c., &c.
It must be borne in mind, however, as already explained, that there may be innumerable combinations and modifications of these characteristics; certain greater ones, nevertheless, generally predominating.
Such, doubtless, was the harmonic method of the Greeks; whether, by them, it was thus clearly founded on anthropology, or not.
It is curious that several writers, and Winckelmann among the rest, should have adopted a triple division of the body—without, however, duly founding it in anthropology. Thus Winckelmann says “the entire body is divided into three parts, and the principal members are also divided into three. The parts of the body are the trunk, the thighs, and the legs!”—a distribution and division founded neither in nature nor in truth.
That the Greeks were more or less aware of the principles here stated, though their writings have not descended to us, is proved by their idealizations founded upon them.
“If different proportions,” says Winckelmann, “are sometimes met with in any figure, as for example, in the beautiful trunk of a naked female figure in the possession of Signior Cavaceppi at Rome, in which the body from the navel to the sexual parts is of an uncommon length, it is most probable that such figures have been copied from nature, that is, from persons so formed.”—Nothing certainly would be better founded in natural tendency than such idealization.
All the three Greek methods of proportion being now before the reader, I must briefly notice other circumstances.
In the head in particular, may be observed CHARACTER, or a permanent and invariable form, which defines its capabilities, and EXPRESSION, or temporary and variable forms, which indicate its actual functions.
The teachers of anatomy for artists have not, that I know of, clearly described the causes of these. I may therefore observe, that as character is permanent and invariable, it depends fundamentally on permanent and invariable parts—the bones; and as expression is temporary and variable, it depends on shifting and variable parts—the muscles.
It is well observed by Mengs that, in relation to character, “the peculiar distinction of the ancients is, that from one part of the face, we may know the character of the whole.” And, of expression, Winckelmann observes that “the portion which possesses beauty of expression or action, or beauty of both added to the figure of any person, is like the resemblance of one who views himself in a fountain; the reflection is not seen plainly unless the surface of the water be still, limpid, and clear; quiet and tranquillity are as suitable to beauty as to the sea. Expression and action being, in art as in nature, the evidence of the active or passive state of the mind, perfect beauty can never exist in the countenance unless the mind be calm and free from all agitation, at least from everything likely to change and disturb the lineaments of which beauty is composed.”
Now the details which, during the period of perfection in art, were so skilfully employed, were these very means of expression or circumstances attending and indicating them—minuter forms which are universal, and without which nature is imperfectly represented—minuter forms of the highest order, because the means of expressing intellect, emotion, and passion, if required.
These higher details we find, for instance, in the turn of the inner end of the eyebrow, or constriction and elevation of the under eyelid, or a hundred other traits dependant on subjacent muscles. We find them in slight risings of mere cutaneous parts, when they lie over and are elevated by the attachment of muscles, as at the inner angles of the eyes, the corners of the mouth, and elsewhere. We find them in depressions or furrows, when they are drawn down by contiguous muscles. These are of higher character, because they belong to expression or its means; and there is a corresponding want of completeness, of truth, of nature, without them.
Between these intellectual means, these higher details, and those of a lower order, accidental details, the great artists of Greece distinguished. Accidental details have nothing to do with expression or the means of expression; they depend upon an inferior system, that merely of life, and constitute all the depositions, excrescences, and growths, which confuse the vision of the inexperienced, and embarrass that of the most discriminating, in the examination of higher beauty.
These lower details we find, for instance, in the puffings of adipose substance which project from the spaces between the muscles of the face, and from other accidents of the vital system, as wrinkles or folds from the absence of adipose substance, fulness or emptiness of the vessels, projecting veins, peculiar conditions of the skin, turbidity of the eyes, hairs of the head, beard, or skin, &c. These have always characterized inferior artists and inferior periods of art.
From these observations, it will be seen that such unqualified statements as the following by Azara, lead only to misconception: “A human face, for example, is composed of the forehead, brows, eyes, nose, cheeks, mouth, chin, and beard. These are the great parts; but each of these contains many other minor parts, which also contain an infinity of others still less. If the painter will content himself to express well the great parts which I have taken notice of, he will have a grand style; if he depicts also the second, his style will be that of mediocrity; and if he pretends to introduce the last, his style will be insignificant and ridiculous.”