One of the arms at the side is drawn back and drowned in delicate light and shade. The gesture of the other arm holds the draperies over the thighs to gather below the belly fervent shadow.
Shadow, desired by the artist, makes for all this figure a first tunic, veiling certain shapes and discovering others of them. Looking closely, one sees that all these varied tones are underscored by a single dark line, the line of strength.
It is the principle of beautiful sculpture as of beautiful architecture. The expression of life, in order to keep the infinite suppleness of reality, must never be stopped or fixed. The dark element, essential to the effect, must then be carefully contrived.
One observes that the antique masterpieces have all been treated in this way. That is why they produce the impression of sweet measure and of durability.
Badly proportioned the results are truly blasphemies against nature. They no longer have eloquence, and breed only harshness and meagreness. From a distance, moreover, measure yields the most powerful results. The Venus of Melos in particular owes to this moderation her power of effect. There is nothing abrupt. Approaching her step by step, one imagines that she has been gradually modelled by the continuous effort of the sea.
Is this not what the Ancients wished to say in affirming that Aphrodite was born of the womb of the waters?
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
- Retained anachronistic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed.