The works of John Dryden, now first collected in eighteen volumes. Volume 17

Part 32

Chapter 324,159 wordsPublic domain

“The figures in the groupes ought not to have the same inflections of the body,” &c. Take heed in this contrast, to do nothing that is extravagant; and let your postures be always natural. The draperies, and all things that accompany the figures, may enter into the contrast with the members, and with the figures themselves; and this is what our poet means in these words of his verses, _cætera frangant_.

[*†145.]

“One side of the picture must not be void, while the other is filled,” &c. This sort of symmetry, when it appears not affected, fills the picture pleasingly, keeps it in a kind of balance, and infinitely delights the eyes, which thereby contemplate the work with more repose.

[*†152.]

“As a play is seldom good, in which there are too many actors,” &c. Annibal Caracci did not believe that a picture could be good, in which there were above twelve figures. It was Albano who told our author this, and from his mouth I had it. The reasons which he gave were, first, that he believed there ought not to be above three great groupes of figures in any picture; and secondly, that silence and majesty were of necessity to be there, to render it beautiful; and neither the one nor the other could possibly be in a multitude and crowd of figures. But nevertheless, if you are constrained by the subject, (as for example, if you painted the day of judgment, the massacre of the innocents, a battle, &c.) on such occasions, you are to dispose things by great masses of lights and shadows, and union of colours, without troubling yourself to finish every thing in particular, independently one of the other, as is usual with painters of a little genius, and whose souls are incapable of embracing a great design, or a great composition.

_Æmilium circa ludum, faber imus et ungues_ _Exprimet, et molles imitabitur ære capillos;_ _Infelix operis summâ: quia ponere totum_ _Nesciet._

The meanest sculptor in the Æmilian square, Can imitate in brass the nails and hair; Expert in trifles, and a cunning fool, Able to express the parts, but not dispose the whole.

Says Horace in his “Art of Poetry.”

[*†162.]

“The extremities of the joints must be seldom hidden, and the extremities or end of the feet never,” &c. These extremities of the joints are as it were the hafts, or handles of the members. For example, the shoulders, the elbows, the thighs, and the knees. And if a drapery should be found on these ends of the joints, it is the duty of science, and of decorum, to mark them by folds, but with great discretion; for what concerns the feet, though they should be hidden by some part of the drapery, nevertheless, if they are marked by folds, and their shape be distinguished, they are supposed to be seen. The word _never_, is not here to be taken in the strictest sense; he means but this,—so rarely, that it may seem we should avoid all occasions of dispensing with the rule.

[*†164.]

“The figures which are behind others, have neither grace nor vigour,” &c. Raphael and Julio Romano have perfectly observed this maxim; and Raphael especially in his last works.

[*†169.]

“Avoid also those lines and outlines which are equal, which make parallels,” &c. He means principally to speak of the postures so ordered, that they make together those geometrical figures which he condemns.

[*†176.]

“Be not so strictly tied to nature,” &c. This precept is against two sorts of painters; first, against those who are so scrupulously tied to nature, that they can do nothing without her; who copy her, just as they believe they see her, without adding, or retrenching any thing, though never so little, either for the nudities, or for the draperies. And secondly, against those who paint every thing by practice, without being able to subject themselves to retouch any thing, or to examine by the nature. These last, properly speaking, are the libertines of painting; as there are libertines of religion, who have no other law but the vehemence of their inclinations, which they are resolved not to overcome: and in the same manner the libertines of painting have no other model but a rhodomontado genius, and very irregular, which violently hurries them away. Though these two sorts of painters are both of them in vicious extremes, yet nevertheless the former sort seems to be the more supportable; because though they do not imitate nature, as she is accompanied by all her beauties, and her graces; yet at least they imitate that nature, which we know, and daily see. Instead of which, the others shew us a wild or savage nature, which is not of our acquaintance, and which seems to be of a quite new creation.

[*†178.]

“Whom you must have always present, as a witness to the truth,” &c. This passage seems to be wonderfully well said. The nearer a picture approaches to the truth, the better it is; and though the painter, who is its author, be the first judge of the beauties which are in it, he is nevertheless obliged not to pronounce it, till he has first consulted Nature, who is an irreproachable evidence, and who will frankly, but withal truly, tell you its defects and beauties, if you compare it with her work.

[*†183.]

“And of all other things which discover to us the thoughts and inventions of the Grecians,” &c. As good books, such as are Homer and Pausanias. The prints which we see of the antiquities, may also extremely contribute to form our genius, and to give us great ideas; in the same manner as the writings of good authors are capable of forming a good style, in those who are desirous of writing well.

[*†193.]

“If you have but one single figure to work upon,” &c. The reason of this is, that there being nothing to attract the sight but this only figure, the visual rays will not be too much divided by the diversity of colours and draperies; but only take heed to put in nothing, which shall appear too sharp, or too hard; and be mindful of the 41st precept, which says, that two extremities are never to touch each other, either in colour, or in light; but that there must be a mean, partaking of the one and of the other.

[*†195.]

“Let the draperies be nobly spread upon the body; let the folds be large,” &c. As Raphael practised, after he had forsaken the manner of Pietro Perugino, and principally in his latter works.

[*†196.]

“And let them follow the order of the parts,” &c. As the fairest pieces of antiquity will shew us. And take heed, that the folds do not only follow the order of the parts, but that they also mark the most considerable muscles; because that those figures, where the drapery and the naked part are seen both together, are much more graceful than the other.

[*†200.]

“Without sitting too straight upon them,” &c. Painters ought not to imitate the ancients in this circumstance. The ancient statuaries made their draperies of wet linen, on purpose to make them sit close and straight to the parts of their figures; for doing which they had great reason, and in following which the painters would be much in the wrong; and you shall see upon what grounds. Those great geniuses of antiquity, finding that it was impossible to imitate with marble the fineness of stuffs or garments which is not to be discerned but by the colours, the reflexes and more especially by the lights and shadows; finding it, I say, out of their power to dispose of those things, thought they could not do better, nor more prudentially, than to make use of such draperies, as hindered not from seeing, through their folds, the delicacy of the flesh, and the purity of the outlines; things which, truly speaking, they possessed in the last perfection, and which in all appearance were the subject of their chief study. But painters, on the contrary, who are to deceive the sight, quite otherwise than statuaries, are bound to imitate the different sorts of garments, such as they naturally seem; and such as colours, reflexes, lights, and shadows, (of all which they are masters,) can make them appear. Thus we see, that those who have made the nearest imitations of nature, have made use of such stuffs or garments which are familiar to our sight; and these they have imitated with so much art, that in beholding them we are pleased that they deceive us: such were Titian, Paul Veronese, Tintoret, Rubens, Van Dyck, and the rest of the good colourists, who have come nearest to the truth of nature. Instead of which, others, who have scrupulously tied themselves to the practice of the ancients, in their draperies, have made their works crude and dry; and by this means have found out the lamentable secret, how to make their figures harder than even the marble itself; as Andrea Mantegna, and Pietro Perugino have done; and Raphael also had much of that way in his first works, in which we behold many small foldings often repleated, which look like so many whipcords. It is true these repetitions are seen in the ancient statues, and they are very proper there: because they who made use of wet linen, and close draperies, to make their figures look more tender, reasonably foresaw, that the members would be too naked, if they left not more than two or three folds, such as those sorts of draperies afford them, and therefore have used those repetitions of many folds; yet in such a manner, that the figures are always soft and tender, and thereby seem opposite to the hardness of marble. Add to this, that in sculpture, it is almost impossible, that a figure, clothed with coarse draperies, can make a good effect on all the sides; and that in painting, the draperies, of what kind soever they be, are of great advantage, either to unite the colours and the groupes, or to give such a ground, as one would wish to unite, or to separate; or farther to produce such reflections as set off; or for filling void spaces; or, in short, for many other advantages, which help to deceive the sight, and which are no ways necessary to sculptors, since their work is always of relievo.

Three things may be inferred from what I have said, concerning the rule of draperies. First, that the ancient sculptors had reason to clothe their figures as we see them. Secondly, that painters ought to imitate them in the order of their folds, but not in their quality, nor in their number. Thirdly, that sculptors are obliged to follow them as much as they can, without desiring to imitate unprofitably, or improperly, the manner of the painters, by making many ample folds, which are insufferable hardnesses, and look more like a rock, than a natural garment.—See the 211th remark, about the middle of it.

[*†202.]

“And if the parts be too much distant from each other,” &c. It is with intent to hinder (as we have said in the rule of groupes) the visual rays from being too much divided; and that the eyes may not suffer, by looking on so many objects, which are separated. Guido was very exact in this observation. See in the text the end of the rule, which relates to draperies.

[*†204.]

“And as those limbs and members which are expressed by few and large muscles,” &c. Raphael, in the beginning of his painting, has somewhat too much multiplied the folds; because, being with reason charmed with the graces of the ancients, he imitated their beauties somewhat too regularly; but having afterwards found, that this quantity of folds glittered too much upon the limbs, and took off that repose and silence, which in painting are so friendly to the eyes, he made use of a contrary conduct, in the works which he painted afterwards; which was at that time when he began to understand the effect of lights, of groupes, and the oppositions of the lights and shadows; so that he wholly changed his manner, (this was about eight years before his death,) and though he always gave a grace to whatsoever he painted, yet he made appear in his latter works, a greatness, a majesty, and a harmony, quite other than what we see in his first manner: and this he did by lessening the number of his folds, making them more large, and more opposing them, and by making the masses of the lights and shadows greater, and more disentangled. Take the pains to examine these his different manners in the prints which we see of that great man.

[*†210.]

“As, supposing them to be magistrates, their draperies ought to be large,” &c. Yet make not your draperies so large, that they may be big enough to clothe four or five figures, as some there are who follow that method. And take heed, that the foldings be natural, and so disposed, that the eye may be directed to discover the folds, from the beginning of them to the end. By magistrates he means all great and grave persons, and such as are advanced in age.

[*†211.]

“If ladies or damsels, light and soft,” &c. By this name of ladies, maids, or damsels, he means all young persons, slender, finely shaped, airy, and delicate. Such as are Nymphs and Naiades, and Fountains. Angels are also comprehended under this head, whose drapery should be of pleasing colours, and resembling those which are seen in the heavens, and chiefly when they are suspended in the air. They are only such sorts of light habits as are subject to be ruffled by the winds, which can bear many folds; yet so, that they may be freed from any hardnesses. It is easy for every one to judge, that betwixt the draperies of magistrates, and those of young maids, there must be some mediocrity of folds, such as are most commonly seen and observed; as in the draperies of a Christ, of a Madonna, of a King, a Queen, or a Duchess, and of other persons of consideration and majesty; and those also who are of a middle age; with this distinction, that the habits must be made more or less rich, according to the dignity of the persons; and that cloth garments may be distinguished from those of silk, sattin from velvets, brocard from embroidery, and that, in one word, the eye may be deceived by the truth, and the difference of the stuffs. Take notice, if you please, that the light and tender draperies having been only given to the female sex, the ancient sculptors have avoided, as much as they could, to clothe the figures of men, because they thought (as we have formerly said) that, in sculpture garments could not be well imitated, and that great folds made a very bad effect. There are almost as many examples of this truth, as amongst the ancients there are statues of naked men. I will name only that of Laocoon, which, according to all probability, ought to have been clothed. And in effect, what likelihood can there be, that the son of a king, and the priest of Apollo, should appear naked in the actual ceremony of sacrifice? for the serpents passed from the Isle of Tenedos to the Trojan shore, and surprised Laocoon, and his sons, while they were sacrificing to Neptune on the sea-shore, as Virgil witnesses in the second of his Æneids. Notwithstanding which, the sculptors,[160] who were authors of this noble work, had well considered, that they could not give vestments suitable to the quality of the persons represented, without making as it were a heap of stones, whose mass would rather be like a rock, than those three admirable figures, which will ever be the admiration of all ages. And for this reason of two inconveniences, they judged that of draperies to be greater than that which was against the truth itself.

This observation well confirms what I have said in the 200th remark. It seems to me, that it deserves you should make some reflection on it; and to establish it the better in your mind, I will tell you, that Michael Angelo, following this maxim, has given the prophets which he painted in the chapel of the pope, such draperies, whose folds are large, and whose garments are coarse; instead of which, the Moses, which he has made in sculpture, is habited with a drapery much more close to the parts, and holding more of the ancients. Nevertheless, he is a prophet, as well as those in the chapel, a man of the same quality, and to whom Michael Angelo ought to have given the same draperies, if he had not been hindered by those very reasons, which have been given you.

[*†215.]

“The marks or ensigns of virtues,” &c. That is to say, of the sciences and arts. The Italians call a man a _virtuoso_, who loves the noble arts, and is a critic in them. And amongst our French painters, the word _vertueux_ is understood in the same signification.

[*†217.]

“But let not the work be too much enriched with gold or jewels,” &c. Clemens Alexandrinus relates,[161] “That Apelles having seen a Helena, which a young scholar of his had made, and adorned with a great quantity of golden ornaments and jewels, said to him, My good friend, though thou couldst not make her beautiful, at least thou hast made her rich.” Besides, that these glittering things in painting, as precious stones prodigally strewed over the habits, are destructive to each other, because they draw the sight to several places at the same time, and hinder round bodies from turning, and making their due effect; it is the very quantity which often makes us judge that they are false. And besides, it is to be presumed, that precious things are always rare. Corinna, that learned Theban lady, reproached Pindar, whom she had five times overcome in poetry, that he scattered through all his works the flowers of Parnassus too prodigally; saying to him, “That men sowed with the hand, and not with the sack;”[162] for which reason, a painter ought to adorn his vestments with great discretion. And precious stones look exceedingly well, when they are set in those places which we would make to come out of the picture; as for example, on a shoulder, or an arm, to tie some drapery, which of itself is of no strong colouring. They do also perfectly well with white, and other light colours, which are used in bringing the parts or bodies forward; because jewels make a show, and glitter through the opposition of the great lights in the deep brown, which meet together.

[*†220.]

“It is very expedient to make a model of those things which we have not in our sight, and whose nature is difficult to be retained in the memory,” &c. As, for example, the groupes of many figures, the postures difficult to be long kept, the figures in the air, in cielings, or much raised above the sight; and even of animals, which are not easily to be disposed.

By this rule we plainly see, how necessary it is for a painter to know how to model, and to have many models of soft wax. Paul Veronese had so good store of them, with so great a quantity of different sorts, that he would paint a whole historical composition on a perspective plan, how great and how diversified soever it were. Tintoret practised the same; and Michael Angelo (as Giovan. Bapt. Armenini relates) made use of it, for all the figures of his Day of Judgment. It is not that I would advise any one, who would make any very considerable work, to finish after these sorts of models; but they will be of vast use and advantage to see the masses of great lights, and great shadows, and the effect of the whole together. For what remains, you are to have a layman[163] almost as big as the life, for every figure in particular, besides the natural figure before you, on which you must also look, and call it for a witness, which must first confirm the thing to you, and afterwards to the spectators as it is in reality.

You may make use of these models with delight, if you set them on a perspective plan, which will be in the manner of a table made on purpose. You may either raise, or let it down, according to your convenience; and if you look on your figures, through a hole, so contrived, that it may be moved up and down, it will serve you for a point of sight, and a point of distance, when you have once fixed it.

The same hole will farther serve you, to set your figures in the cieling, and disposed upon a grate of iron-wire, or supported in the air by little strings raised at discretion, or by both ways together.

You may join to your figures what you see fitting, provided, that the whole be proportioned to them; and, in short, what you yourself may judge to be of no greater bigness than theirs. Thus, in whatsoever you do, there will be more of truth seen, your work itself will give you infinite delight, and you will avoid many doubts and difficulties, which often hinder you; and chiefly for what relates to lineal perspective, which you will there infallibly find, provided that you remember to proportion all things to the greatness of your figures, and especially the points of sight and of distance; but for what belongs to aërial perspective, that not being found, the judgment must supply it. Tintoret (as Ridolphi tells us in his Life) had made chambers of board and pasteboard, proportioned to his models, with doors and windows, through which he distributed on his figures artificial lights, as much as he thought reasonable, and often passed some part of the night, to consider and observe the effect of his compositions. His models were two feet high.

[*†221.]

“We are to consider the places where we lay the scene of the picture,” &c. This is what Monsieur de Chambray calls, to do things according to _decorum_. See what he says of it, in the interpretation of that word, in his book of the Perfection of Painting. It is not sufficient, that in the picture there be nothing found which is contrary to the place, where the action which is represented, passes; but we ought, besides, to mark out the place, and make it known to the spectator by some particular address, that his mind may not be put to the pains of discovering it; as whether it be Italy, or Spain, or Greece, or France; whether it be near the sea-shore, or the banks of some river; whether it be the Rhine, or the Loire; the Po, or the Tyber; and so of other things, if they are essential to the history. “Nealces, a man of wit, and an ingenious painter,” as Pliny tells us,[164] “being to paint a naval fight betwixt the Egyptians and the Persians, and being willing to make it known that the battle was given upon the Nile, whose waters are of the same colour with the sea, drew an ass drinking on the banks of the river, and a crocodile endeavouring to surprise him.”

[*†222.]

“Let a nobleness and grace,” &c. It is difficult enough to say what this grace of painting is; it is to be conceived and understood much more easily than to be explained by words. It proceeds from the illuminations of an excellent mind, (not to be acquired,) by which we give a certain turn to things, which makes them pleasing. A figure may be designed with all its proportions, and have all its parts regular; which, notwithstanding all this, shall not be pleasing, if all those parts are not put together in a certain manner, which attracts the eye to them, and holds it fixed upon them; for which reason, there is a difference to be made betwixt grace and beauty. And it seems that Ovid had a mind to distinguish them, when he said, speaking of Venus,

_Multaque cum formâ gratia mixta fuit._

A matchless grace was with her beauty mixed.

And Suetonius, speaking of Nero, says, he was rather beautiful than graceful: _Vultu pulchro, magis quam venusto_. How many fair women do we see, who please us much less than others, who have not such beautiful features? It is by this grace, that Raphael has made himself the most renowned of all the Italians, as Apelles by the same means carried it above all the Greeks.

[*†233.]