[LETTER XII.]
My Dear Sir,
I SHOULD willingly refer you to abler advisers if M. de Chateauneuf's house were as real as it deserves to be; but although the conditions which you and the architect have proposed to yourselves have led to very definite arrangements in the structure itself, a pleasing uncertainty may be assumed to exist with regard to the decorations: in a word, I can scarcely shrink from a responsibility as ideal as the subject of our speculation.
I am sorry you have again referred to a certain "Pompeian" room; believe me, too much has been said of what you know was a rough experiment, to see the effect of a particular kind of decoration for small rooms, and which, as regards its details, can only deserve attention from the skill with which Mr. Harvey executed the animals that are introduced.
The word "decoration," however appropriate to fantastic ornaments, and in some degree to insulated figures, has, as you know, been considered vilifying when applied to works that are addressed to the mind. But, as we have no other term, we must consent to use it in both meanings. It is, indeed, important to remember, that no works of art, however elevated, can dispense with the appeal, the impressive or winning appeal, to the eye. Thus much for our definition of terms.
As a general principle in decoration, I would recommend that the eye should be solely or chiefly addressed where a passing glance only can be given to the work, and that the attention should be more taxed where leisure and surrounding circumstances permit or invite contemplation. The reverse of this would be manifestly wrong; but the recommendation itself is not to be understood too literally. Every display has its legitimate exuberance: the "over and above" in decoration can only be that of quality, for mere taste is supposed to define all that relates to quantity. As common poetic description sometimes exalts its subject less by accumulation than by supposing costly materials where mean ones would do, so in art the augmenting excellence ascends from sense to thought. If, therefore, the intention to afford mental pleasure is very apparent even in situations where this may appear superfluous and in a manner thrown away, the impression must of itself be elevating. But the indispensable condition is, that a gradation should still be maintained; that higher excellence should still be in reserve. What must be the character of works of art to which Raphael's Corridor in the Vatican forms the mere approach? The answer is given by the perfection of the works in the Stanze. All that is to be insisted on, therefore, is a due gradation in conformity with the principle first proposed. In the remarks that follow, I cannot strictly follow the plan of the house, but must often generalize; the observations submitted, if tenable at all, will, however, be easily applicable to your purpose.
The pavement of the halls might be enriched, but I can hardly approve the occasional practice of the ancients in placing mosaic "histories" under their feet:[6] the objections are sufficiently obvious. The forms and hues employed should be merely calculated to gratify the sight. Among other preliminary considerations, I would also include the nature of the mere surface, as well as the distinction of every apartment. Thus a pavement, however decorated, should still express the character of firmness and solidity. For this reason I would banish even the lowest kind of life, (that of plants,) and every approach to perspective. Geometrical forms would thus be alone admissible: the variety is infinite; but even here I would again exclude abrupt and irregular contrasts of colour, which have sometimes the effect of making the evenness of the surface doubtful: the last consideration is even applicable to carpets. With respect to the classic fashion of inscriptions on the threshold,[7] I merely remark, that letters are only ornamental in architecture when disposed symmetrically, and enclosed in a regular frame-work.