There is no doubt but that Martisen and his son, who was named Usurtasen, were sculptors at the time when Egyptian art reached its highest point.
The earliest works of Egyptian sculpture are the bas-reliefs found in the chambers of the tombs; the walls are almost covered with them, and they are painted with colors which are still bright and fresh, though more than four thousand years have passed since they were put on. The subjects of these reliefs are taken from the life of the persons buried in the tombs, and even their possessions and occupations are thus represented. These sculptures were made by tracing the designs on the stone and then cutting it away between the figures. The mode of arrangement in these reliefs does not satisfy our ideas of what it should be. It seems as if the artists had no plan of their work in their minds—no aim as to what the effect should be when finished. On the contrary, the reliefs impress us as if the sculptors made one figure, and then added another and another in such a way as to represent the fact they wished to tell without any attention to the beauty of the whole; and so it does not seem as if there was any unity in them, but as if the large bas-reliefs were made up of disjointed parts which in one sense really have no relation to each other.
The same is true of the Egyptian statues. It appears as if the different parts might have been made separately or even by different sculptors, and then joined together. All this is because the Egyptians seemed to think of an object in parts and not as a whole. Then, too, the position of the early statues was so unnatural and awkward. The arms were placed close to the sides of the body, and there was no separation between the legs; and though in some of their articles of furniture, their pottery, and in the details of their architecture, the Egyptians made a great advance, they did not equally improve in their sculpture.
One great hindrance to the progress of Egyptian sculpture was the fact that figures were never represented in action. They were not figures moving and living in stone; they were like figures petrified and fixed: they were statues, and no one can forget this for a moment while looking at them. I can learn of but one Egyptian figure sculptured as if in action; this is a quoit-thrower in the Tombs of the Kings. A sitting statue, whether of a man or a woman, had the hands rested on the knees or held across the breast (Fig. 1).
Fig. 1.—Statue of Cephren in the Museum at Cairo.
There were very few groups in Egyptian sculpture, and these seldom had more than two figures. It was customary to represent a husband and wife sitting on the same chair holding each other's hands, or having their arms around one another's waists or shoulders. Sometimes the principal figure is of large size, and the inferior persons are made much smaller and placed at the sides of the larger figure. In short, very few attitudes are represented in Egyptian sculpture, and it almost seems as if there must have been fixed rules for a certain limited number of positions after which all sculptured figures were made.
In spite of this sameness and stiffness, Egyptian sculpture is remarkable, and it is probable that if they had not been fettered by prejudices and rules the Egyptians would have excelled both in sculpture and painting.
The sides of obelisks and, more especially, the walls of temples were covered with sculptures which gave the history of kings—of their wars and conquests, and of their great works in their kingdoms. The sculptures upon the temple walls could be estimated by square rods, or even acres, better than by lesser measures. Their amount and the labor it required to make them are simply marvellous.
I will describe the subjects depicted upon one inner wall in the palace-temple of Medemet Haboo, and will quote from Wilkinson's "Egypt and Thebes." On the west wall "the Egyptian princes and generals conduct the 'captive chiefs' into the presence of the king. He is seated at the back of his car, and the spirited horses are held by his attendants on foot. Large heaps of hands are placed before him, which an officer counts, one by one, as the other notes down their number on a scroll; each heap containing three thousand, and the total indicating the returns of the enemy's slain. The number of captives, reckoned one thousand in each line, is also mentioned in the hieroglyphics above, where the name of the Rebo points out the nation against whom this war was carried on. Their flowing dresses, striped horizontally with blue or green bands on a white ground, and their long hair and aquiline noses give them the character of an Eastern nation in the vicinity of Assyria and Persia, as their name reminds us of the Rhibii of Ptolemy, whom he places near the Caspian." ...