Part 2

It will be seen further on that no traces of colour exist at the present time on these marbles. They were moulded in Athens prior to their removal to this country, and whatever colour they may have then retained disappeared during the cleansing of the marbles by soap-lees, after the process of moulding.

We are therefore driven to the remains of colour on other monuments, and to analogy for the proposed restoration of the several colours.

BACKGROUND.

The colour of the background of some of the pediments of the Greek temples is known to have been blue, and if we admit that the bodies of the figures were painted at all, it could have been no other colours. The flesh colour being necessarily some kind of red, would have been injured by a red ground, while yellow would have advanced to the eye, and can form a background only to white, the only colour more advancing than itself. I believe, and it is generally accepted as proven, that the ground was blue; and as there are many who stop here, admitting the blue ground, but denying the colouring of the figures, a portion of the frieze has been left in this stage, to enable them to form a judgment upon it.

THE HAIR.

When I first attempted the experiment, I had a strong instinct that the hair should be gold; but not having the authority for it, I was induced to try it both brown and grey; neither of these colours, however, was satisfactory, but having afterwards seen the collection of terra-cottas in the Louvre, I became convinced that I was right in supposing that they should be gold. In all these specimens the hair is of an intense red, which can only have been the ground of gilding, now obliterated. In the Elgin frieze, in the British Museum, may still be seen the holes which were drilled to fix on the metallic trappings, which were also, no doubt, gilt; and were these affixed in our experiment, the effect would be much more harmonious.

THE FLESH.

The most difficult point to determine, is the colour of the flesh. It is evident that the Greeks would avoid every attempt at representing nature. Whatever colours they used, we may be sure that they were treated conventionally only, so as to suggest the nature of the object represented, yet not to attempt a direct imitation; we must feel, however, that they went to the utmost limit of conventionality.

M. Hittorff has in his possession a fragment of a figure from Selinus, retaining a flesh colour very similar to that which we have employed.

Although colour has been found on the hair, eyes, lips, and drapery of Greek fragments of marble, no traces have as yet been found on the nude portions. And those who believe that the marble of the Greeks was only stained and not painted, build up a triumphant argument on this. The explanation, however, is very simple; it is evident that the smooth portions of a coloured object would lose their colour first under the influence of time, and, in fact, all traces of colour that ever are found, are found in the folds and crevices, from which it is fairly argued that the surface of which they formed a part was of that colour.

Even in the Alhambra, which was entirely covered with colour, and which is so many centuries nearer our time than the Greek temples, colour is but rarely found on the surface: it is only by what is found in the depths and hollows, that we know how the whole was coloured.

On the terra-cottas of the Louvre there are figures where the white ground with which the whole surface of the terra-cottas was covered, remains perfect over the whole of the figures, at the same time that a fragment of flesh tint still remains upon some portion of it. Were this absent, it might equally well be argued, that the Greeks were in the habit of painting the flesh white on their terra-cottas.

HORSES.

In seeking a colour for the horses, I felt the choice lay between red, white, black, or grey; further, that whatever colour was employed, it would be in such a way as best to define and distinguish the various portions of the groups. I do not think that a single colour, or shades of the same colour, would have fulfilled this condition. White horses would have been too prominent, black too sombre. The red I have employed appeared to be the best colour for the principal horses, as best balancing by their masses the blue background, whilst the relief between horse and horse could be harmoniously obtained by the employment of grey for the back horses. Authority for this mode of treatment exists on the Greek vases and in the Etruscan tombs, where, when one horse passes before another, there is a change of colour. As the horses in this frieze are in ranks of nine, it is most probable that there was still more variety of colour than I have attempted, to keep the various groups together.

THE DRAPERIES.

I was led to adopt this mode of treating the draperies from the inspection of the Louvre collection of terra-cottas, where the draperies are very well preserved. They are mostly pale blue and pale pink, the pale blue with a pink border and the pink drapery with a blue border. I have arranged the draperies in the way I felt most conducive to the general effect, so as to bring the whole into harmony. The colours of the other portions of the dresses are suggested by the materials which they may be presumed to represent.

In placing this experiment before the public, I am quite aware how vain would be the hope that I had produced a result worthy of the Greeks; where there is so little to guide, success is well nigh impossible. The most that I could hope to attain was to produce a result that might have existed, and that would not have been discordant with the other portions of a Greek monument. My failures even would answer a useful purpose, if they served to direct other minds to work out this most interesting problem, and to induce further researches on the monuments of Greece, which have hardly yet been examined in this direction, because they have not as yet been examined with faith, but rather with reluctance.

The experiment cannot be fairly tried till tried on marble, and in conditions of space, atmosphere, &c., similar to those under which the originals were placed.

I would ask those critics who stand on the ground of traditional opinion, not too rashly by hard words to attempt to stop the inquiry which this experiment may suggest. The facts are too strong to be put aside by any opinion. If all who are anxious for the truth will only seek it, there is little doubt that we may approach, if we do not reach it.

I have done all in my power to aid the cause. I have stood in the breach, and shall be content should others walk over me to a more complete victory. I am only anxious, in the meanwhile, that the Greeks should not be condemned on my account.

I have no authority whatever for the colouring of the monument of Lysicrates in the Great Transept. One fact deserves to be recorded, the beautiful bas-reliefs of the frieze were absolutely invisible from below, when in white, and this made me certain that it was a monument designed to receive colour, and I therefore determined to attempt its restoration.

OWEN JONES.

CRYSTAL PALACE, _June, 1854_.

NOTE BY MR. PENROSE.

I have seen no reason to alter my opinion (quoted p. 6) that the surface of the marble played a considerable part in the general effect, and that it was not concealed with paint, but tinged or stained in some manner to the proper tone. An extensive and careful examination of the Pentelic quarries by the orders of King Otho has shown that large blocks such as were used at Athens are very rare indeed. The distance also from the city is considerable: whereas there are quarries on Mount Hymettus at little more than one-third of the distance (and most convenient for carriage), which furnish immense masses of dove-coloured marble (much prized, it would seem, by the Romans, Hor. ii. 18), and inferior in no respect but that of colour to the Pentelic. It could therefore only have been the intrinsic beauty of the latter material that led to its employment by so practical a people as the Athenians. With respect to the use of the outline traced with a sharp point (p. 16), had this been a provision for repaintings, its absence from the Doric echinus is at least conclusive that there was no ornament painted on that member; for on no part of the architecture would the difficulty of reproducing the pattern have been greater. But since these outlines are found indifferently both on small and large mouldings, it seems to be a sound conclusion which limits the painted ornaments to the parts so outlined.

REPLY.

I do not think that, with our present ideas of economy, we are able to appreciate the motives of the Athenians in choosing their marble from the Pentelic quarries in preference to those of Mount Hymettus. We must remember that the Greeks built for their gods; and the Pentelic marble, by presenting greater difficulties in its acquisition may have been a more precious offering. I can more easily understand this than the use of granite by the Egyptians, which was sought for from quarries much more distant, and presented difficulties of workmanship many times greater.

Mr. Penrose has examined most minutely the capitals of the columns of the Parthenon, and is convinced that no outline of any kind exists upon them; but I am not so convinced that there never was one there, because, although outlines are found on fragments of some of the mouldings, they do not exist everywhere on the same moulding: it is only under favourable circumstances that the outline has been preserved. A Doric echinus may yet be found with outlines upon it.

OWEN JONES.

HISTORICAL EVIDENCE.

NOTE.

I have been favoured by Mr. G. H. Lewes with the following arguments derived from a perusal of Quatremère de Quincey, Winckelmann, and the passages of ancient authors which are supposed to throw light on this question; these I have submitted to a well known authority on Greek literature, Mr. W. Watkiss Lloyd, and place here his observations on the argument of Mr. Lewes, as I am most anxious that the public should be in possession of whatever can be said on either side.

HISTORICAL EVIDENCE.

The idea of the Greeks having painted their statues is so repugnant to all our modern prejudgments, that the mind is slow in familiarising itself with the fact, even when indisputable evidence is brought forward. The Greeks were artists of such exquisite taste, and of principles so severe, that to accuse them of having _painted statues_, is to accuse them of committing what in our day is regarded as pure “barbarism.” The Greeks did not aim at reality, but at ideality; and the painting of statues is thought to be only an attempt to imitate reality.

Nevertheless, however startling, the fact remains: the Greeks _did_ paint their statues. Living eyes have seen the paint. Living testimony supports the testimony of ancient writers, and all that will be necessary in these pages is to furnish some of the principal points of evidence.

In the first place, the reader must get out of all sculpture galleries, erase from his mind all preconceptions derived from antique remains and modern practices. Having done so, let him reflect on the historical development of sculpture, and he will see this idea of painted figures falling in its true place.

Sculpture of course began in Greece, as elsewhere, with idols. It is the custom of all barbarous nations to colour their idols. The Egyptians, as we know beyond all doubt, not only coloured, but dressed theirs. So did the Greeks. It may be a question, whether the Greeks borrowed their art from the Egyptians, improving it, as they did everything else. Let scholars decide that question. This, however, is certain, that in either case the Egyptian practice would obtain—

1st. If the Greeks borrowed from the Egyptians, they would borrow the painting and dressing.

2nd. If they did not borrow—if their art was indigenous—then it would come under the universal law of barbarian art; and painting would, at any rate in the earlier epochs, have been employed. (We know that both painting and dressing were employed in all epochs.)

This being so, and the custom being universal, unless the change from painted to unpainted statues had been very gradual, insensibly so, the man who first produced a marble statue without any addition would have been celebrated as an innovator. No such celebrity is known.

Ancient literature abounds with references and allusions to the practices of painting and dressing statues. Space prevents their being copiously cited here. Moreover, many of them are too vague for _direct_ evidence. Of those which are _unequivocal_ a few will be given.

_Dressing Statues._—Pausanias describes a nympheum, where the women assembled to worship, containing figures of Bacchus, Ceres, and Proserpine, the heads of which alone were visible, the rest of the body being hidden by draperies. And this explains a passage in Tertullian (“De Jejun.,” 16), where he compares the goddesses to rich ladies having their attendants specially devoted to dress them—_suas habebant ornatrices_. For it must be borne in mind that the Greek idols, like the saints in Catholic cathedrals, were kept dressed and ornamented with religious care. Hence Homer frequently alludes to the offerings of garments made to propitiate a goddess; thus, to cite but one, Hector tells Hecuba to choose the most splendid _peplos_ to offer to Minerva for her aid and favour. Dionysius, the Tyrant of Syracuse, according to a well known anecdote, stripped the Jupiter of his golden cloak, mockingly declaring that it was too heavy for summer, and too cold for winter.

“The golden cloak of the Sicilian Jupiter seems scarcely to illustrate the subject of dressing statues—as it was probably not drapery, not cloth enriched with gold—but solid, like the golden Ægis of the Minerva of Phidias, which could be removed and replaced.”—W. W. LLOYD.

These _dressed_ statues were for the most part _dolls_, however large. The reader must remember that the dolls of his nursery are the lineal descendants of ancient idols. Each house had its lares or household gods; each house had its dressed idols. Statues, in our sense of the word, were, it may be supposed, not dressed; but that they were painted and ornamented there seems to be ample evidence.

_Coloured Statues._—If we had no other evidence than is afforded in the great _variety_ of materials employed—ivory, gold, ebony, silver, brass, bronze, amber, lead, iron, cedar, pear-tree, &c., it would suffice to indicate that the prejudice about “purity of marble” _is_ a prejudice. The critic may declare that a severe taste repudiates all colour, all mingling of materials; but the Greek sculptors addressed the senses and tastes of the Greek nation, and did so with a view to _religious_ effect, just as in Catholic cathedrals painted windows, pictures, and jewelled madonnas appeal to the senses of the populace.

The Greeks made statues of ivory and gold combined. They also combined various metals with a view of producing the effect of _colour_. One example will suffice here. Pliny tells us (lib. xxxiv. cap. 14) that the sculptor of the statue of Athamas, wishing to represent the blush of shame succeeding his murder of his son, made the head of a metal composed of copper and iron, the dissolution of the ferruginous material giving the surface a red glow—_ut rubigine ejus per nitorem æris relucente, exprimeretur verecundiæ rubor_. Twenty analogous examples of various metals employed for colouring purposes might be cited. Quatremère de Quincey, in his great work, “Le Jupiter Olympien,” has collected many.

The reader may, however, admit that statues were made of various materials, and that the bronze statues—which were incomparably more numerous than the marble, may have been tinted, but still feel disinclined to believe that the _marble_ statues were ever painted. A few _decisive_ passages shall be adduced.

Let it be remembered that Socrates was the son of a sculptor, and that Plato lived in Athens, acquainted with the great sculptors and their works; then read this passage, wherein Socrates employs, by way of simile, the practice of painting statues: “Just as if, when painting statues, a person should blame us for not placing the most beautiful colours on the most beautiful parts of the figure—inasmuch as the eyes, the most beautiful parts, were not painted purple, but black—we should answer him by saying, Clever fellow, do not suppose we are to paint eyes so beautifully that they should not appear to be eyes.” (_Plato_, “De Repub.” _lib._ iv., near the beginning.)

This passage would long ago have settled the question, had not the moderns been pre-occupied with the belief that the Greeks did _not_ paint their statues. They, therefore, read the passage in another sense; many translators read “pictures” for “statues.” But the Greek word ανδριας signifies “statue,” and is _never_ used to signify “picture.” It means statue, and a statuary is called the maker of such statues, ανδριαντοποιος. (Mr. Davis, in Bohn’s English edition of Plato, avoids the difficulty by translating it “human figures.”)

“This passage is decisive as far as it goes, but it does not touch the question of colouring the flesh. It proves that as late as Plato’s time it was usual to apply colour to the eyes of statues; and assuming, what is not stated, that marble statues are in question, we are brought to the same point as by the Æginetan marbles, of which the eyes, lips, portions of the armour and draperies were found coloured. I forget whether the hair was found to be coloured, but the absence of traces of colour on the flesh, while they were abundant elsewhere, indicates that if coloured at all it must have been by a different and more perishable process—by a tint, or stain, or varnish. The Æginetan statues being archaic, do not give an absolute rule for those of Phidias. The archaic Athenian bas-relief of a warrior in excellent preservation, shows vivid colours on drapery and ornaments of armour, and the eye-balls were also coloured; but again, there is no trace of colour on the flesh.”—W. W. LLOYD.

Here is a passage which not only establishes the sense of the one in Plato, but while unequivocally declaring that the ancients painted their statues gives the reason why the paint is so seldom discoverable in the antique remains. It is from Plutarch (“Quæst. Roman.” xcviii., at the end): “It is necessary to be very careful of statues, otherwise the _vermilion with which the ancient statues were coloured will quickly disappear_.”

“This passage refers to archaic sacred figures, and at Rome (not in Greece), where after providing for the sacred geese and ganders, the first duty of certain officials on taking office was to furbish the _agalma_, or statue, which was necessary on ‘_account of the quick fading of the vermilion with which they used to tinge the archaic statues_.’ This is an accurate translation and a literal—and implies a difference between the archaic and the more modern in respect of colour, though not necessarily excluding all colour from the latter.”—W. W. LLOYD.

Had this passage been generally known the dispute could never have maintained itself. There is nothing equivocal in the use of the word μιλτινον, which means “vermilion;” nothing which admits of doubt in the phrase ῳ τα παλαια των αγαλματων εχρωζον. And there are abundant notices extant which illustrate it. One will suffice. The celebrated marble statue of a Bacchante by Scopas is described as holding, in lieu of the Thyrsus, a dead roebuck which is cut open, and the marble represents living flesh. People have tried to explain this by saying that Scopas discovered coloured veins in the marble, which he used to indicate living flesh. The explanation is absurd. In the first place veins do not so run in marble as to represent flesh; in the second, unless statues _were_ usually coloured, such veins, if they existed, would be regarded as terrible blemishes, and the very thing the Greeks are supposed to have avoided—viz., colour as representing reality—would have been shown.

But colour _was_ used, as we know, and Pausanias (“Arcad.” lib. viii., cap. 39) describes a statue of Bacchus as having all those portions not hidden by draperies, painted vermilion, the body being of gilded wood. He also distinctly says that the statues made of gypsum were painted, describing a statue of Bacchus γυψου πεποιημενον, which was—the language is explicit—“_ornamented_ with paint” επικεκοσμημενον γραφη.

“This statue was apparently ithyphallic, and probably archaic. Not drapery, but ivy and laurel, concealed the lower part of it. The colour of the exposed part was not local, but applied to the whole of it.”—W. W. LLOYD.

Virgil, in an epigram, not only offers Venus a _marble_ statue of Amor, the wings of which shall be many-coloured and the quiver painted, but he intimates that this shall be so because it is customary—

Marmoreusque tibi, Dea, _versicoloribus alis In morem_ pictâ stabit Amor pharetrâ.

And in the seventh Eclogue, Virgil, speaking of the statue of Diana, describes it as of marble with _scarlet_ sandals bound round the leg as high as the calf.

Si proprium hoc fuerit, levi de marmore tota Puniceo stabis suras evincta cothurno.

And there is a passage in Pliny which is decisive, as soon as we understand the allusion. Speaking of Nicias (lib. xxxv. cap. 11), he says, that Praxiteles, when asked which of his marble works best satisfied him, replied, “Those which Nicias has had under his hands.” “So much,” adds Pliny, “did he prize the finishing of Nicias”—_tantum circumlitioni ejus tribuebat_.

The meaning of this passage hangs on the word _circumlitio_. Winckelmann follows the mass of commentators in understanding this as referring to some mode of _polishing_ the statues; but Quatremère de Quincey, in his magnificent work “Le Jupiter Olympien,” satisfactorily shows this to be untenable, not only because no sculptor could think of preferring such of his statues as had been better polished, but also because Nicias being a _painter_, not a sculptor, his services must have been those of a painter.

What were they? Nicias was an _encaustic painter_, and hence it seems clear that his _circumlitio_—his mode of finishing the statues, so highly prized by Praxiteles—must have been the application of encaustic painting to those parts which the sculptor wished to have ornamented. For it is quite idle to suppose a sculptor like Praxiteles would allow another sculptor to _finish_ his works. The rough work may be done by other hands, but the finishing is always left to the artist. The statue completed, there still remained the painter’s art to be employed, and for that Nicias was renowned.

Even Winckelmann (“Geschichte der Kunst,” buch I. kap. 2), after noting how the ancients were accustomed to dress their statues, adds, “This gave rise to the painting of those parts of the marble statues which represented the clothes, as may be seen in the Diana found at Herculanæum in 1760. The hair is blonde; the draperies white, with a triple border, one of gold, the other of purple, with festoons of flowers, the third plain purple.”

There are still traces visible of gilding in the hair of statues. Even the Venus de’ Medici has such. And the bored ears speak plainly of earrings.