Greek Sculpture. Edmund von MachЧитать онлайн книгу.
Acropolis, Athens, c. 420–406 B. C. In situ.
Caryatid, from the Erechtheum, Acropolis, Athens, c. 420–406 B. C. Marble, h: 231 cm. British Museum, London.
Differing Technique of High and Low Relief Sculpture
The impressions of high reliefs and low reliefs in their proper places may be similar; their technique, however, is quite different. The technique of high relief is by far the simpler. The bulk of the figures, in so far as they are detached from the background, are almost the same as in nature. And if the figures are smaller than life-size, their bulk – that is, their thickness – can be proportionately reduced; for, as Sir Charles Eastlake[9] states, “The eye agrees as readily to the reduction in bulk as to the reduction in size.” The very prominence of the forms and their necessarily deep shadows require a simple composition. The figures must be designed so as not to obscure each other’s contours, so that they stand out clearly, each one on its own. To accomplish this they are carved in open action. The action of a figure is open when the two halves of the body are kept separate – the right arm and leg on one side, the left arm and leg on the other. In violent movement the arm or the leg of one side is apt to sweep over to the other side, which gives contrasted action.
If this was represented in high relief, the prominent shadow of the limb crossing the body would tend to obscure the outlines of the figure. Nothing, however, is of greater importance either in the art of painting or of carving than to keep the outlines pure. This does not at all mean that one must see every line, for the lines which are suggested are fully as important as those which are seen. The Greeks knew this, as is proved by the practice of their early vase painters, who before painting draped figures drew them nude. None of the drapery lines could suggest faulty contours below. Thus, great care had to be taken to avoid introducing into a composition any element that would suggest incorrect lines, and no other element is so apt to do this in sculpture as the shadow of actual members crossing the body. This is the main reason why contrasted action should be avoided in high relief. In fact, it occurs not once on any of the preserved metopes of the Parthenon.
An inevitable result of this restriction upon high relief is that figures from such compositions will rarely form suitable subjects for copies or adaptations in the round. There are exceptions – perhaps the Aphrodite of Melos. Figures in the round, on the other hand, have occasionally been adapted for transposition in high relief. On one of the metopes of the Parthenon the artist made use of the Harmodios of the Tyrannicide group first designed by Antenor (ca. 510 B. C.) and then probably copied by Kritios and Nesiotes (ca. 479 B. C.). The figure belongs to a very early period of Greek art, when contrasted action had hardly begun to be used even for figures in the round. The requirements for high relief, then, are a simple composition with open action, both for individual figures and for entire groups. Shadows supply variety and save the composition from monotony, which would be its fate if it were executed in low relief. Low relief offers the proper field for complicated groups and lively figures in contrasted action. Since confusing shadows are uniformly and almost completely absent, it is possible to represent rows of men two, three, four, or even more deep. Such a representation in high relief would be an anomaly. The nearest figures would show the highest projection, and the farther ones would be represented in gradually diminishing bulk. The shadows cast would be different, and their lack of uniformity would reveal the unreality of the composition, not to speak of confusion and obscurity, which must accompany such a design in high relief. In low relief one does not run this danger, because all the shadows are equally suppressed. Near the northwest corner of the Parthenon frieze a young man is represented as standing in front of his horse. The horse is seen in profile, the man in full front with his back to the flank of his horse. If one steps up close to the frieze and looks at it under strong light, one sees that what really is carved is a young man in the middle, front to, with the hind quarters of a horse on his left side, and its head and fore legs on his right, all carved on the same plane. At a distance and under its proper light the original illusion again returns – one sees a man standing in front of his horse. The explanation of this phenomenon is found in the uncertainty of human vision. Seeing really means projecting everything upon one definite plane. The distances of the objects thus promiscuously projected upon one common background, or drawn up to one front plane, are guessed at – for it really is nothing but guesswork – with reference to three chief and largely unconscious considerations: first, their relative size and distinctness; second, their shadows; and finally, one’s own general knowledge. The distances represented on the Parthenon frieze are not large enough to necessitate any marked differences in size and distinctness, especially when different species are drawn – as a man and a horse on this slab. The shadows are suppressed, it being low relief. One has therefore to rely upon one’s sense of suitability. A man before a horse is frequently seen; a man grafted in between the two halves of a horse, never. The second possibility, therefore, which the general lines of the composition admit, does not occur to one’s mind.
Nereid Monument, Xanthos, c. 390–380 B. C. Marble, h: 830 cm. British Museum, London.
And since there are no confusing contours or disturbing shadows to contradict the first idea, the spectator does not hesitate to read it into the composition, although it is the second one which is carved.
To speak of the complete suppression of shadows in low relief is not entirely correct, for even the lowest figures throw some shadows, although the introduction of curving contours may render them all but imperceptible to the human eye. On the Parthenon frieze frieze (Illustration 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12) the artists have at times used such slight shadows very successfully to strengthen the intended illusion and to guard against possible detection. The outlines of the man on the slab under consideration are relieved against the horse. In order to do this the body of the horse is not carved in one horizontal plane, but curves away gradually from the head and the tail alike to the background in the centre. Except up close, these curves are so gradual they escape notice. They nevertheless enabled the sculptors to give sharp outlines to the man, strengthening, by means of the shadows which his body seems to throw on his animal, the impression that he is standing in front of his horse.
In the same way the horse’s head appears to be removed from the spectator by at least the thickness of the man’s body. In reality, however, it is carved on the same front plane as he. This shows that in low relief farther objects need not be carved on more distant planes. The front, even in low relief, is the most prominent part of the composition. The artist may therefore pick out those details to which he wants to call special attention and carve them on this plane, provided he manages their contours so that not even the slightest shadows contradict the illusion. This device was a favourite with the Parthenon sculptors. Hebe, the messenger of the gods, is thought of as standing behind Hera on the east frieze.
The lower half of her figure is carved on a distant plane. The upper half, which could not be seen if it were carved there because at the height of thirty-nine feet the projecting lower limbs of Hera would have hidden it, curves forward to the front plane, on which her breast, head, and shoulders are represented. The result is as pleasing as it would have been painful if the drapery on Hera’s lap had shut Iris from view. Many such and similar devices or conventions are at the disposal of the sculptor of low relief. In the absence of prominent shadows and great distances he takes the spectator at his weakest point – his uncertain vision – and works an illusion wherever he can. The facility with which such an illusion is wrought is a dangerous boon for the artist. He carves one thing and wants the spectator to see another. If he actually represents his figures bulk for bulk, as in the round, or largely in high relief, there is little danger of having anyone imagine his seeing anything but what was actually represented; but when the sculptor makes use of conventions, and does not truthfully represent his figures, then the spectator is at liberty to pick out any possibility that may offer itself. This compels the artist to design his composition so that its lines cannot be interpreted in more than one way. The Parthenon sculptors have done this, and of the many hundreds of figures on the frieze not a single one can be misunderstood, although not one is carved as it is meant to be seen. The figures are
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Sir Charles Eastlake (1793–1865): English painter. Raised to the presidency of the Royal Academy in 1850 he became the Director of the National Gallery in London between 1855 and 1865.