It may be objected that the principles of art-criticism which now prevail are too closely bound up with a transient movement to be adduced as proof in a discussion of art in general. When the contemporary current of subjectivism has been succeeded by new schools of art, the claim for objective veracity may again acquire greater importance. We have no desire to contend that such an evolution would be wholly regrettable. It is impossible in estimating works of art to put aside all logical and ethical considerations; and attachment to truth is too ineradicable an ethical instinct not to influence—consciously or unconsciously—our æsthetic judgments. But although it is neither possible nor desirable to exclude regard for intellectualistic elements, it may be theoretically advantageous to emphasise the distinct character of the æsthetic judgment. Modern criticism, as it has developed under the influence of modern subjective art, exhibits, we believe, the essentially artistic way of enjoying and estimating art. Although this attitude, owing to different influences, has been now more, now less, strictly maintained in various periods of art history, it has always been adhered to by all who enjoy art for its own sake. Whenever we regard a work of art without any secondary motive, we are not concerned with the objective realities which it depicts. We are not interested in the historic Laura whose praises we read in a poem. For all we care she may in reality have been lame, and red-haired, and hump-backed. We are quite contented if we receive a faithful impression of the beauty with which she charmed her poet.
When it has been proved that the rules governing the artistic adjustment of reality, which have been stated and vindicated on the basis of intellectualistic theories, may be equally well deduced from an emotionalistic interpretation, the argument can easily be extended so as to cover the principles governing the selection of subjects and motives for artistic representation. It is required in the Hegelian æsthetic that every single phenomenon which is represented in a work of art should suggest the presence of a greater and more universal idea.[161] In Goethe’s theory of style in art we meet with the same claim—which is closely connected with his general philosophy of nature—that every individual form or movement should have something to tell us about the world-process.[162] And when Taine tries to lay down a scale of gradation for the relative value of works of art, he assigns the highest place to those works in which the qualities exhibited are, firstly, as remarkable and essential as possible, and in which, secondly, these remarkable and essential qualities have been made as predominant as possible.[163] It can easily be seen that the reasoning which is here applied to the choice between different things is exactly the same which was used with regard to the different features of the same thing; and the psychological interpretation is, therefore, also the same in both cases. As the craving for the fullest and most adequate expression of an emotional state influences the artist in his representation of a given fragment of nature or life, so this craving must also influence his selection of the model to be represented. Owing to variations in temperament and æsthetic predilections the relative significance of these two aspects may be differently estimated in different art-schools. But the main principle cannot be invalidated by the fact that, for example, in French art and French æsthetic the definiteness is emphasised at the cost, perhaps, of richness, while in English art suggestiveness is often allowed to make up for lack of concentration.[164] A catholic theory must necessarily account for all the varying æsthetic ideals which have influenced artistic production. Although it must be considered as essentially non-æsthetic to contend, as Mr. Ruskin did at one time, that “that art is greatest which conveys to the mind of the spectator by any means whatsoever the greatest number of the greatest ideas,”[165] it must, on the other hand, be admitted that an individual thing is adequate as a means of conveying the fulness of feeling only if through this individual thing there can be suggested a multitude of other things recalled and represented.
Without assuming the philosophical principles from which Taine has derived his theory of the ideal in art, we may therefore understand and accept his scale of gradation of the relative value of works of art. And similarly we may interpret in an emotionalistic way all the rules of artistic composition and of conventionalising treatment of nature which have been proposed by intellectualistic authors on æsthetic. The nude figure in painting and sculpture, as well as the simple mythological themes in poetry and literature, will thus for ever retain their pre-eminence as subjects of artistic treatment. But this pre-eminence does not depend for its justification upon the fact that they give us an incarnation of the philosophical notion of the ideal man. It is sufficiently accounted for by their power of conveying a fuller and richer emotional content than any individually defined motive. Thus it can be explained why even spectators who have almost completely outgrown—or, if the expression is preferred, have fallen away from—idealistic ways of thought are nevertheless ready to appreciate the idealistic feeling in the art of Puvis de Chavannes.
It cannot be denied, however, that those motives which in the Hegelian æsthetic are considered as beautiful par excellence have been relatively neglected in modern art. To some extent this circumstance may be explained by the notion which is gaining more and more ground in the public mind—to wit, that in every single phenomenon we may see a résumé of the whole process of evolution. For it is evident that a spectator who has once adopted this philosophical way of looking at things may find even a well-represented piece of still-life quite as rich and æsthetically saturated as a painting of the most universal motive. A more important cause, however, is to be found in the fact that modern art, when endeavouring to convey large and full contents by single vehicle-impressions, has learned to avail itself of vehicles which cannot, properly speaking, be called either typical or representative. In literature especially we may observe that authors dwell with instinctive predilection on the description of scenes and events which open our eyes to large views behind them. It would be impossible to characterise all such favourite motives as beautiful; it is also often difficult to show that there is any general idea embodied in them. But they have invariably the quality of being emotional centres, in which a multiplicity of feelings and sensations has been united. By this quality they become apt to serve the purposes which are essential to the artistic craving; and by the same quality they satisfy the requirement of fullest possible enjoyment which is made by the spectator. What we demand of the perfect work of art is—to resort to an often-used image—that it shall be as a shell, which we may lift in our hand and bring to our ear, but in which, notwithstanding its smallness, we may hear the roaring and singing of the sea.
CHAPTER X
OBJECTIONS AND ANSWERS
If the preceding discussion has been to any degree convincing, the reader may perhaps have put to himself a question which has often presented itself to the author—why no complete æsthetic system has been based on the psychology of feeling. In recent times some attempts have indeed been made to deduce the æsthetic value of art-works from their emotional content.[166] But we do not know of any comprehensive theory in which all the distinctive features of art had been consistently explained by reference to an emotionalistic principle. This fact is so much the more remarkable as the importance of feeling has been at least accidentally acknowledged by some of the greatest writers on æsthetic, such as, for instance, Taine and Ruskin.[167] It cannot have been without some reason that these authors have refrained from basing their art-theories on the notion of a craving for expression,—which would have provided a clear line of demarcation between æsthetic and non-æsthetic activities,—and have instead explained art as an intellectual function, which appears confused alternately with scientific, philosophic, and ethical activity. An attempt to trace the causes of this attitude will contribute to a further elucidation of the emotionalistic theory of art.
It may be contended with some appearance of truth that as soon as authors, who are themselves artists, have pronounced their opinion on the purposes of their own art, those who are not artists have no call to continue the discussion. But this would be to overlook the fact that the pure artist, as well as the purely artistic activity, must be considered as an abstraction. The bent of Goethe’s genius, for example, was perhaps by nature quite as much towards science, particularly philosophy, as towards art. Thus, although an artist may himself lay the chief stress on the intellectual or ethical elements in his work, his opinion should not induce us to give up the purely æsthetic criteria which we need for the theoretical definition of art-production as an activity to itself.
It is again only natural that intellectualistic elements should occupy the foremost place in the practical art-ideals which artists place before themselves and each other. Technical perfection is the only quality which can be consciously and intentionally aimed at. In works, therefore, which, like Herr Hirth’s Physiologie der Kunst, are written from the point of view of the executive artist, this quality has received special attention.[168] For those who teach it or learn it, art must unavoidably appear as being chiefly a power and a skill. But for the theoretical observer it is evident that no kind of technical accomplishment, however wonderful it may be in itself, can impart to a work that purely æsthetic merit, art-value. The differences in the opinions of artists and theorists may therefore to a great extent have their ground in the different aspects of art, differently emphasised by either side to suit its own purposes.
It may, however, be objected that in the case of many artists and æstheticians it has been more than a negative cause which has deterred them from the emotionalistic interpretation. Goethe’s zealous championship of the intellectualistic elements in art was no doubt part of his crusade against prevailing sentimentalism.[169] There are many expressions in the æsthetic writings of Schiller which in their exaggeration would appear quite incomprehensible if we did not take into account the polemic position which he maintained towards the romantic currents in art.[170] In more recent times the reaction against the sentimental ideals has given rise to theories which are still more intellectualistic than the maxims of German classicism. By their dislike of that art which exhibits all the personal and most intimate emotions of the artist, the French Parnassians have been led to deny completely the part of feeling in all genuine art; and the mere existence of such a poetic school may be thought to prove the inadequacy of the interpretation of art which has been put forward in the preceding chapters.
The noblest expression of the personal pride that compels the artist to conceive his production as a purely intellectual function may be found in Leconte de Lisle’s sonnet “Les Montreurs,” where the poet refuses to be a beggar for the gross pity or laughter of the crowd.